“Just outside the city walls ...” Hailey shoots a panicked glance at Jihun.
I don’t wait to hear what he has to say. Thegiof Mountains flares in my veins and flickers over my skin as I run until I’m a blur in the streets. I don’t know what I’ll do if I find her.
I can’t leave and abandon my kingdom ... my people, but she can’t stay. The very fate of the worlds is at stake. She is the only one who has a fighting chance of stopping Daeseong and the Amheuk, an ancient force of darkness.
I’ll think about that when I find her. In this moment, all I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her I love her.
I love you more than anything, Sunny.
A growl rips out of my throat as I push myself faster, and a teardrop slides across my temple and flies into the air. I streak past the city gates, and I hear her—a cry of pain.
“Sunny,” I roar, and I race toward her voice.
My neck muscles strain tautly, near their snapping point. I taste blood in my mouth as my lungs burn. I don’t need to fucking breathe. Sunny is hurting, and I have to find her. She needs me.
But I feel myself slowing down, no matter how I urge my body faster. I’m too weak. I’ve pushed myself too hard. I stumble as I force my legs to keep moving. Pain rips a low moan out of me, but I don’t stop—I won’t stop until I’m at her side. I have to tell her.
I love you more than life.
I see her at last. She stands in the distance—a speck on the moonlit hill. With the last of my strength, I stumble toward her.
“Sunny,” I shout, but only air rattles past my lips. I watch in horror as she takes a faltering step toward the Gray Void. Then another. My hand reaches out for her as my legs give out, and I fall to my knees. “Please. Stay.”
But ... she is already gone.
Even Then
Fire burns everywhere. Rivers run dry. Trees wither. The earth hardens and cracks. The very life forces of Mountains, Sky, Water, and Underworld feed the fire. Together they are infused with all the colors of light, and a blinding white gi—full and wild—is born.
A female stands in the midst of the fiery ruin with her arms spread wide. Her snow-white hair billows around her head as though she’s floating in water. Her eyes are closed, her expression serene, as though she is soaking in the warmth of the winter sun.
Suddenly, she opens her eyes, and white fire burns in them. Her face hardens even as tears stream down her pale cheeks. She clenches her fists and screams, a piercing sound of sorrow and defeat. White light bursts from her chest.
I welcome the fire as everything I know burns around me. I welcome her even as the fire consumes me. I am awed and terrified by her beauty, by her power.
I burn until I am nothing.
Even then ... I love her.
Chapter Two
Ethan
“Sunny!” I jerk awake with a hoarse whisper, my hand grasping at air. With wakefulness comes the ache, and I dig the heel of my hand against my chest, just to the left of my sternum.
Where is she? Is she okay? Her cry of pain as she disappeared into the Gray Void still rings in my ears. Is she hurt? Or ... worse?No.
Sunny heals faster than even the Shinbiin. She’s okay. She has to be. I would know if anything happened to her. But I won’t be able to take a full breath until I’m holding her in my arms again.
I rub one bleary eye, then the next and scan my surroundings. Even in the dim glow of the light orbs, the royal audience hall of the Shinsi Palace oozes opulence. The dark, gleaming floors, the thick wooden columns with their intricate etchings, and the imposing throne—carved from a thousand-year-old tree—with gold branches and jade leaves stretching toward the ceiling and to the ends of the wall. All of it screams wealth and power. The former King of Mountains, my father, would never have held audience anywhere ...less.
NowIam the King of Mountains, but I can’t even make myself sit on the throne. My father killed my mother, and made numerous attempts on my life, to cling on to it. I think it understandable that I’m hesitant to sit on the blood-tainted thing.
Instead, I slept on the floor, with my back against its arm. Now, I straighten away from the throne, then cringe when my shirt clings to me, soaked with sweat and splattered with blood.
Not mine.
It could have been, with the right weapons, though. I don’t know how many weapons my father made with the sacred tombstone of Dangun, the god of Mountains, or who has them. But I can’t fall back on my invincibility to protect me, with those still out there.
