The shadow pulsed.
Blight kicked her small feet on Mal's shoulder with childish glee. "Excellent! The matter is settled."
"This is wrong," I growled. "You're treating her like a pawn."
"We're protecting her," the flaming huntress said coldly. "The fae can give her what you cannot."
"I will give her everything—"
"He can give her children," she cut in. "A normal life. Stability. Peace."
Something twisted in my gut.
Her eyebrow arched. "Did you assume that your love was enough?"
The question cut deep because it's true. I hadn't asked. I had just loved Rhianelle and hoped that would be sufficient.
"Here are the terms," Blight announced, every ounce of playfulness gone. "You will not tell Rhianelle who you are. You will not reveal your past or your marriage to her. You will not interfere with the bond between her and Landon."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I act." Blight's smile was terrible on that child's face. "I am a god, vampire. I could take more than just her memories of you. I can take all of them."
"You wouldn't—"
"I'm being merciful. Rejoice, vampire." Blight leaned forward. "I only erased you."
The threat was clear. Cooperate or lose her forever.
"Step aside, let destiny unfold, or lose everything," Deanna said, her voice steady and unmoved. "Those are your options."
"This conversation is over," Blight announced.
The world snapped back.
I was in the healing house again, standing beside Rhianelle's bed. She slept peacefully, unaware of the dark forces arguing over her fate.
Blight was gone. The Un were gone. But the message remained crystal clear.
I shake my head, pulling myself from the memory. I've been standing here frozen, lost in that nightmare conversation.
The metal on the anvil has cooled, losing its malleable glow. I thrust it back into the forge and work the bellows to raise the heat. Sparks fly upward, disappearing into the darkness above.
Rhianelle is alive.
That's all that matters.
The metal glows orange-red again. I pull it from the forge and resume hammering. Each strike releases the frustration building in my chest. The rage I can't express.
"Well, this is depressing."
I look up to find Shade leaning against the forge entrance. The assassin is dressed in his usual dark clothing. His wolf sits beside him, tongue lolling.
Behind him, Garrett approaches with his easy stride.
"What do you want?" I ask them.
"Can't a friend visit another friend?" Garrett asks innocently.
