Then he turns, and the moment shifts.
The noise of his family floods in the second he opens the door. I follow him inside with my chin high, heart racing, and that single word still lodged in my mouth like a promise.
After.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Haide
Knight looks across his family, slowly settling his attention on me. “Let’s move.”
Legend doesn’t waste a second. His arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me with him like the decision was already made the moment I opened my mouth and asked for this, making that wild thing in my chest burrow deeper.
“Come on, little monster,” he mutters against my temple, voice a dark promise. “Show us what the Exile taught you.”
I grin, sharp and pleased. “Oh, I will.” I glance over my shoulder to see Creed still standing there with his arms crossed, eyes cutting straight through me. “Try to keep up, Royal.”
He bristles.
Good.
“Open the gates, Legend.” Creed orders.
But nothing happens.
Legend frowns at the space in front of him, his hand pushing out, but his limbs start to shake. Unease slips into my bones. He evades my attempts at catching his gaze as he runs his fingers through his dark hair. Slowly, his head swivels to Sinner.
A silent conversation takes place between them before Sinnertsksand waves his hand.
A tear in the air rips open as a portal appears, Rathe hummingbehind it. Lightning sparks not in warning, but in welcome. The realm instantly recognizes the blood of its Kings—and Queen. Singular.
Knight and London step through first, followed by the rest of us, and the portal closes the moment Creed’s feet hit the soil.
The scent shifts—metallic smoke, iron-rich air, magic old enough to bite in an intoxicating way. My skin prickles, every instinct purring like it finally has room to breathe again after being suffocated in the mortal world.
Weird, considering my entire life was spent on an island that is literally located on Earth. Here, in the real realm of Rathe, everything is wild.
The air itself thickens, heavies, leaving no question or uncertainty—but making it undeniably clear that these lands are wild and you are at their will.
It’s untamed.
Unmatched.
“What do you know of the weapon? How does it work?” Knight pushes without meeting my gaze, his eyes focused and scanning for a threat in the distance, just like his brothers.
“You were right before,” I tell him. “Isle’s Kiss doesn’t attack the senses. It eats the soul.”
Everyone jerks their heads my way.
“You’re sure?” Legend asks, a curiosity in his gaze rather than the acidic looks I’m getting from his brothers that say they think I’m full of shit.
“As sure as Creed is an asshole.” Creed scoffs, but I press on. “On the isle, some called it the island’s gift. The one and only mercy it gave the discarded.”
“Mercy?” London peers at me.
“Yep.” I nod, climbing the hillside and turning toward the sound of howling coming from the forest surrounding us. “The island is intended to torture. It’s a free-for-all of chaos; and mypeople don’t hate that. They crave it, but sometimes even the damned get tired and when they do…Isle’s Kiss is the answer. It kills slowly. Painfully. It’s the only way of death on the island that leaves you dead long enough for them to rest.”
“What do you mean?” London asks. “Is it a false death?”
