A terrible thought strikes. What would happen if I pulled?
The idea turns my stomach. My body recoils. It feels wrong, invasive, like reaching into her chest and tearing out something that should stay there. I almost step back from it, but then have to remind myself that if I don’t try, I lose her anyway.
So I reach again. And I pull, taking away the healing magic I’vegiven her.
A sharp breath tears from Peonica’s lungs. Her body jerks. Her scream cracks through the air—pain returned through the thread. I flinch, but I don’t stop.
I tell myself that it isn’t Peonica screaming. It’s Calista.
I hold on, careful not to shatter the thread fully. Calista’s reaction is immediate; her hold on the Godbound thread slips.
That’s all I need.
I yank.
She reels back with a howl. Her whole body seizes as the magic she stole rips free. Every scrap of it—every prayer, every shred of power—flows back into me. And beyond that, I feel the other end of the Godbound thread.
Distant, bright. Reaching toward her true body in Elysium. I know I shouldn’t reach that far, but I do, unable to stop myself, soaking in the power, the limitless magic that just became available to me. I reach through.
At first, it feels like victory, like everything I lost has finally come home. But then comes the sharp, cold edge beneath it. It’s wild, it’s chaotic. It hits me like lightning. This power, vast and ancient, floods into me. It’s intoxicating. Consuming. Too much of it, too fast. I want more of it, even as part of me recoils, terrified.
I take.
And take.
And take.
Magic roars through me like fire in the open air, filling every hollow space I ever carried. Somewhere far away, Kaelzar’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Raylane, stop.”
I ignore everything but that hunger. Eyes closed, lips parted in a silent gasp, I drink deeply. Gulping magic like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. I drown in it, gluttonous, ravenous, consuming without restraint. Calista’s cries twist into wet, choking sobs. But then suddenly?—
Silence.
Just before it falls completely, she gasps out one final breath, “You will neverget her back.” She goes still, and the absence of sound is louder than any scream.
I stop, my chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged bursts. The threads I’d clung to go slack, unspooling in my grasp. The power still swells inside me. But now, it’s laced with panic.
It rushes in like ice water. I’d wanted Calista to suffer like Peonica did. I’d pulled the magic back slowly, just enough to make her hurt, to weaken her. Not enough to destroy the vessel. Not enough to destroy Peonica. At least, that’s what I thought.
My eyes snap open, and the sight that greets me stills my breath. Calista—Peonica—is lying crumpled, motionless. Her limbs twisted, but her chest moves.
A numb horror seeps into my limbs, hollowing me out from the inside. I don’t feel triumphant. I feel sick. “What did I do?” I whisper, my voice a ghost of itself.
Kaelzar’s sudden growl cuts through the fog, snapping my focus back to the world, just in time to see the figure standing over Peonica’s body.
Seraphina. She looms above her like a shadow, her lips curled in a twisted, triumphant grin. I’d forgotten she was even here. I let her come, let her sobriety return in this place and now, too late, I realize what that meant. My breath stutters in my throat as Seraphina drags her hand over her chest with a slow, deliberate inhale. And I see it.
The ring. That damn ring.
“No,” I breathe, staggering back. No. No. No.
Seraphina rolls her eyes with lazy disdain, as though testing the contours of her new flesh. Her movements are sharper now, wrong in that subtle, skin-deep way that screams of possession. She tilts her head, as if listening to something far away, then shakes it off like it no longer matters.
“She was so ashamed,” Calista says, using Seraphina’s voice. “She offered her body freely. Just wanted to be rid of it.” Then her lips curl into a snarl. “At this stage, any body will do.”
And then it suddenly dawns upon me. She’s no longer in Peonica’s mortal frame. She’s taken the body of a Champion, a vessel built fordivinity, forged to hold power, to wield it.
