The Ember Vein trembles with every SoulTaker who tries to get near the tunnel.
Idris threads his poison through stone and root, trying to reach the forges that fuel every dream in every world.
Alaric, Kael, and Thorne have their viyellas. Their bonds blaze bright. They stand stronger together.
I have been alone.
Until now.
Until her.
I set her gently back on solid ground but do not step away. The zareth thrums between us, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
“Alina,” I say, and her name comes out rough. “You asked what I wanted from you. Why I came.”
Her lips press together. “Yeah. Kind of hard to forget the whole ‘you’re my fated mate’ speech.”
I nod once.
“Then understand this: the quakes here are not random. They are linked to breaches in my realm. Every fracture, every sinkhole, every failed foundation tied to this pattern…” I gesture to the crack, now sealed but still present in the stone’s memory. “They will only grow worse if nothing is done. The SoulTakers are digging. Our enemy is pushing. When Nightfall breaks, your world will feel it.”
Her fingers curl at her sides.
She looks back toward the trailer, toward the lot, toward the silent houses farther away that will one day stand on this stolen land.
Toward the people who will live in them.
“So I’m involved whether I like it or not,” she says slowly. “Because the earth responds when I’m near. Because of this bond thing.”
“Because you are my viyella,” I confirm. “The earth hears you. It quieted when you arrived. It stays when you stand your ground.”
She swallows.
“And what are you offering, exactly?” she asks. “Because you said something about a choice. I like choices.”
Of course she does.
I square my shoulders, wings itching just beneath the glamour.
“Two paths,” I say. “The first: you stay here. I leave you to your life. Your Jeep. Your contracts and reports and flawed attempts to patch problems that are not of your making. You watch your instruments spike. You watch the news tell you ‘minor tremors are nothing to worry about’ while sinkholes swallow neighborhoods. You do what you can, with tools that were never meant to fight this war.”
Her jaw tightens.
“And the second?” she whispers.
“You come with me to Nightfall,” I say. “To the Rooted Marches. To the Ember Vein and the fault-halls where the SoulTakers chew. You stand with me where the fractures begin. Your presence strengthens my wards. Our bond gives me the power I lack alone. Together, we close the breaches from the source.”
I take a breath.
“This is not just for my world,” I add. “This is for yours. For all the worlds that dream because Nightfall feeds them hope. If Nightfall falls, they fall with it. You have seen enough today to know I do not exaggerate.”
She stares up at me.
The wind tugs at her hair, whipping dark strands across her cheeks. Her eyes are fierce and assessing, weighing more than just my words. Weighing me.
“You really won’t just grab me and go?” she asks.
I hold her gaze.
