“No!” My voice shatters in the void as I push harder,running, stumbling, nearly falling into the abyss more times than I can count. By the time I reach the far side and drop next to her, reaching out with shaking hands, she dissolves into smoke.
An illusion.
“Fuck.”My hand slams against the stone floor. My chest heaves, rage and terror crashing together.
I can’t let my emotions break me. Not here. Not in this godsdamned place.
I force myself to breathe, though my hands still shake.
Anger surges through me as I stand, but underneath it, fear tightens its grip. Why didn’t she tell me she had to face the final trial? Why did she hide it from me? I grit my teeth.
Why would she tell you? She doesn’t owe you anything.
The whisper slithers through my mind. The Labyrinth’s voice.
My jaw clenches as fury burns in my chest. I know Serenya is strong—more than strong, a force of nature. But even a force can break. Everyone has a weakness. I think I know what hers is.
And I can’t let her face it alone. Not again.
I shove forward, taking the next spiral staircase two steps at a time. Shadows curl along the walls, whispering in her voice. Her laugh, her sighs, her soft “I love yous” spoken to Kallan. Each one slices me open, twisting into something jagged.
Still, I don’t stop.
At the top, a single old wooden door waits. I slam it open and walk onto a battlefield.
The stench of blood hits first. Dead fae and vampires litter the ground, their magic of shadow and steel, fire and icestill crackling in the air.
I turn in every direction, heart pounding.
I see Torin, blade flashing, fighting back-to-back with Kallan, their movements seamless, a deadly dance.
Farther off is the king. I’ve never seen him before, yet Iknow. His presence is unmistakable. He cuts through enemies like the battle is nothing more than sport.
Beside the king is a man in a captain’s uniform. I’ve heard Torin mention him before, but I haven’t met him yet. He fights with the same ease as the king. A wave of sadness washes over me as I watch him. I can’t explain it. I feel a pull towards him—different from the one I feel with Serenya. His presence provides a comfort I don’t understand.
A lump forms in my throat as I continue to look around. I don’t know these fae, yet watching them fall, it feels like I’m losing friends, comrades. Blood slicks the ground. A vampire charges me, and I draw my sword, ready—
Only for the enemy to vanish before it reaches me.
The battlefield melts away.
I stand in a palace corridor now. Darker than Syltheriel’s halls, older. Heavy drapes, carved wood, everything steeped in shadowed elegance.
The hall is short, leading into a library. Lanterns glow against stone, books piled in careless stacks. By the hearth, a vampire reclines on a couch, reading, her long pink hair tied at the top of her head.
I hear Serenya’s voice.
My head snaps toward the sound. She’s at a table, tomes spread before her, notes scattered in wild disarray. Standing tooclosebehind her is Dimitri.
He murmurs something I can’t hear. She shoots him an exasperated glare, but a smile breaks through, and she laughs.
The vampire on the couch lifts her gaze, smiling faintly. “You two are never going to find any answers if you keep goofing off.”
“I’m not goofing off,” Serenya snaps, fire flashing in her eyes. I almost smile…until Dimitri speaks.
“Come on, Ren. You’ve been working non-stop. You need a break. Have some fun with me while you’re here.”
Her eyes roll, but her lips curve. “Fine. What did you have in mind?”
