The massive head lowers, and its front legs fold, bowing to the obsidian floor.
One by one, the other six follow—massive creatures bending their forelegs, horned heads dipping low in perfect synchronization. Smoke wraps around Bree like a shroud, and the veins pulse brighter in response.
The first in generations. We felt her waking across the realms.
The lead Nightmare’s attention returns to Stellan.
You called. But not for you. For her.
Stellan’s composure shatters.
His breath comes in ragged gasps, shoulders shaking. He sinks to his knees like someone cut his strings, and the sound that tears from his throat is raw—years of control breaking all at once.
“Please.” His voice cracks. “I’ve kept them alive this long. I’ve kept them moving. But I can’t—” He presses both hands to his face. “I can’t save her. Please. Help her.”
The words come broken, desperate. Nothing left of the elegant, controlled man who’s led us through a year of hell.
Just someone who’s finally, completely, out of options.
I move before I think, dropping to one knee beside him. Not as a rival. Not as someone competing for Bree’s attention.
As someone who just watched another man break.
The lead Nightmare is silent for a long moment, silver eyes fixed on Stellan’s bowed head.
Then, quietly:We will guard what remains.
“Can you stop what’s draining her?” Stellan asks, voice barely above a whisper.
We cannot break what feeds the Void. But we can hold the line until you find a way.
“That’s not good enough,” I snap, fire flaring.
The Nightmares shift, smoke curling thicker from their hooves.
But Stellan holds up a hand. “It has to be.” He looks at the lead Nightmare. “Just… keep her safe. Keep the darkness from taking her until we can get her out.”
“Please,” he whispers.
The single word lands like a prayer.
The Nightmare inclines its massive head.For you, we hold the line.
The Nightmares move as one, forming a perimeter around Bree and Seth. Their presence fills the chamber—not threatening exactly, but absolute. Like they’ve claimed this space and nothing will move them from it.
“You really think they can save her?” I ask quietly.
Stellan’s hands are shaking. “No.” His voice is barely audible. “But they can keep the dark from taking her before we do.”
The hoofbeats have faded to a slow, steady rhythm—matching Bree’s heartbeat. Matching the pulse of the veins.
I look at her, then at Seth, then at the black smoke still seeping into his unconscious body.
“What happens to him if we shatter the Void?” I ask.
Stellan’s silence is answer enough.
He doesn’t know.
