A roar that wasn’t the sea rang in my ears. “But he’s the strongest dragon in existence.” I scoffed, brittle. “How the fuck could I be his mate? I’m cursed. I’m…broken.”
She rose, floating closer until the space between us folded. Her hands, cold as glacial water, clasped mine. “You are everything.”
The words struck like a tidal wave. And I couldn’t breathe. Silk clung to me like a snare, suffocating where it once draped. Sweat slid down my spine in thin, frantic lines. Above, dragons screamed, too loud, too close.
Ronan. The man I had sworn to destroy. The one who had burned a cuff around my wrist, burned my village to ashes, was my mate, my equal? I had hated him,hated. Csolenia did not deserve what he did. But...
Obrann did. Fritz did.
No one had died in the fires that day. Houses had collapsed, but innocents had been left standing. Left to rebuild. And they did. Reinforcements had been left.Anonymously.
Ronan had done that. He had attacked so they would know. That he remembered who they were. What they did. And that he was coming for them next.
I pulled my hand from Willa’s, brushing the healed burn at my wrist, the serpent’s mark that had once ached like a brand. I couldn’t feel it anymore. Not the heat. Not the ache. My body had already forgiven him. Long before I even realized I had too.
“Why wouldn’t he tell me...”
“Perhaps,” she murmured, stepping back as if distance would sharpen her truth, “some make their choices before we are wise enough to understand the significance of them. Like your precious serpent,” her head tilted, “has losing it hollowed you, or has it honed you? Did its absence leave you shattered, or did the pulse inside you grow louder, truer, when it was gone?” The ice that had frozen the balcony melted when her gaze deepened onto mine.
It had been a strange leniency, the way I felt lighter without it. A distant hold finally snapping. But then came Callum’s distance, little by little he had drifted further, trusted less. Like he had suddenly lost a hold on me that let him see me beneath the mask.
“That doesn’t change what Ronan did. He hadn’t known losing it would free me in any way.” I shook my head in refusal, not denial, just lost. “Did he?”
“I do not know. But maybe after he had, he didn’t feel good enough for who you truly are. And that is why he didn’t tell you.”
My heart clenched, a fractured laugh clawing out of me. “He’s—” I swallowed, eyes searching for sense that wouldn’t come, “the best thing I’ve ever known.” My lips trembled, but the truth steadied. “And he’s mine.”
“He is yours,” Willa said, feet shuffling closer. “But fate will see it doesn’t last.” My eyes whipped to hers. “I was meant to die,” she paused, and even the sea seemed to hush for her next breath. “You and Ronan have shifted the path of my death. Twisted the thread. And now I am here to warn you.”
A knock sounded against her chamber door.
“Warn me?” Nope. I didn't like the sound of that.
“I know who you are, Verena Vyratheon of the Fallen.”
The name struck like a thunderclap. Maerin had called me the same thing. Her eyes lit with silver fire, fingers drawing invisible symbols along her palm. A harsher wind cut through the balcony, strands of my hair dragging across my mouth like a gag.
She jerked slightly, swaying, catching herself right before she stumbled. “There is something in you far fiercer than what you fear.” Her head snapped to the side, following something only she could see. “Do not be mistaken, everyone will witness your prominence. But choose who stands beside you faultlessly. Words are enchanting but often laced in deceit.”
My jaw almost cracked at the pressure. “I am surrounded by those I trust the most. Friends who have stood by me in my worst. They’re all honorable.” Give or take one. Elysian didn’t count.
She winced, swaying again as a tremor ran over her shoulders. “Sweetness is often the mask of venom.”
The railing dug into my palms as I gripped it for balance. “What do you see that I can’t?” The knocking at Willa’s door had become a dull drumbeat in the distance.
A twitch of her fingers. “The tethers that bind us.”
My knuckles whitened. “What does mine show?”
Her face was solemn when she whispered, “It shows me what must transpire. Who is meant to rise with you.” A pause. “And who will succumb at your feet.”
A chill slid beneath my skin, loosening my grip on the railing.Of the Fallen.The name crept like an old curse I’d never been taught. No histories bore it. No songs whispered it. Unless—
“Who is the Fallen?”
A faint hum left her mouth. “The sacrifice.”
It just kept getting worse. “Sacrifice forwhat?”
