Drakonis.The god of fire. The eternal flame waiting beyond the mist. That’s what we’re told. That’s what they all believe.
But something in Cassian’s voicemakes the word sound less like worship… and more like a warning.
We walk barefoot from the lake house, our white gowns trailing through crimson rose petals. The scent is heavy in the air, thick and cloying, clinging to our skin like a final blessing.
A narrow path of red stretches ahead, splitting into twelve branches, each leading to a single boat. I take my place last in line, pressing my bouquet to my chest.
When I turn back toward the crowd, I see Kat watching grimly on. Standing beside her are Tobias and Aaron. Aaron gives me a curt nod of farewell—a merciful assurance that he will follow through on all he has promised.
The Oracle moves down the line along the shore, slicing each girl’s palm with Azariel, reopening the wounds she made when they were selected.
We do not cry out; we’ve been taught not to all our lives. When she reaches me, she pauses. For a split second, she hesitates, and I wonder if she’s experiencing a vision, or perhaps remembering my cousin walking this same path five long years ago.
Just when I think she’s about to say something, to stop me, to end this ruse, she makes a sudden cut.
My blood blooms against the white. It doesn’t hurt, not at first. Just a sting, like the bite of a thorn. But the blood quickly soaks my palm, curling into the threads of my gown like roots claiming the earth.
As we climb into the ceremonial boats, another wave of mist rolls in like a sigh. The boat rocks gently beneath me as I step in. I adjust my grip on the paddle, my fingers slipping once, twice, the cut in my palm throbbing in time with my heartbeat. Blood, oil, saltwater—it all smells the same now. Like something sacred.
I take one last breath of dry air, one last glimpse of land. My sister. My home. My humanity.
I let it all go and push off.
The haze blankets the lake, silver and soft, swallowing the boats one by one.
Behind me, the Oracle whispers something I can’t make out, and the crowd begins to chant.
I press my hands against my ears, but the song crawls under my skin.
Come, god of flame. Come take her away.
This bride is yours forever.
We give her heart. We give her soul.
Bring prosperity and good fortune to us all.
Let fire cleanse. Let ashes fall.
A prayer and a curse.
As the mist thickens, I lean forward into the fog and paddle on into the unknown. Toward the fire. Toward whatever waits beyond the mist.
And I do not look back.
Because if I do, I’ll break. And I cannot afford to break.
Not now. Not ever. Not for them.
Let the beast come for me. Let it see I am not afraid.
Even if I burn.
Chapter 6
The Beast
The mist swallows everything. There’s no shore. No bones, no ruins, no screams—just endless water, dark and impossibly still, bathed in the glow of a ghostly moon. My paddle moves soundlessly through the lake’s surface, each stroke the only sign I’m still tethered to this world.
