“You don’t speak about her,” Alderic growls, bound fists clenched.
“Oh, come on. You really think she wantedyou?” Alder crouches in front of him. “She spread her legs because your face looks like mine. That’s all this ever was.” He flashes a wicked smile. “You were a safer version of the person she can’t resist.”
Alderic explodes forward, a snarl ripping from his throat, but the guards crash over him like a wave. Blades flash, steel sings, fists slam into his ribs as they wrench his bound arms. He fights like a man possessed—like a manwho has nothing left to lose.
One guard stumbles under the weight of Alderic’s fury. Another loses hold of his dagger entirely as Alderic jerks free, only for more hands to seize him again, dragging him backward. His roar echoes through the chamber as metal scrapes stone and blood spatters the floor.
I want to move, to tear this place apart, but all I can do is watch as they beat him.
He clenches his jaw, breath coming hard and ragged, but he doesn’t fall. Doesn’t give Alder the satisfaction of seeing him break.
“Alderic!” My wrists pull against the restraints, my whole body screaming for movement, for a fight, for him.
The guards drag him to my feet, force him to his knees. Blood streaks down his forehead, his arms, dripping into the cracks of the stone. He meets my gaze, blue eyes burning with pain and fury, and I don’t know if I want to cry or scream or tear open the sky with my bare hands.
Alder turns slowly and tilts his head toward Delphara. “Told you she’d keep him busy.”
My rage detonates. If I could get free, I would end this whole kingdom. “Fuck. You.”
“You’d like to, wouldn’t you?” Alder’s grin sharpens. “If only there were time.”
“Enough.” Delphara’s voice cuts clean through the chamber. “I admit, I had my doubts. However, you were right to let him move about the islands. A clever trap, indeed.”
Alderic thrashes again, twisting against the handspinning him down and the twin blades now pressed to his ribs. “Cowards,” he spits. “You hide behind your masks and your magick and call it power.”
Delphara doesn’t flinch. She steps forward, her voice calm, almost kind. “That one dies first.”
Alder doesn’t even look at Alderic. He simply nods.
My lungs seize. My vision narrows. The air feels too thin, the walls too close. My pulse beats in my ears, frantic and stuttering.
This can’t be happening.
“Alder…” It slips out—a plea wrapped in panic.
He looks at me, and the cruel curve of his mouth deepens like a crack in ice. “Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs. “Now you want to beg?”
Delphara begins to chant. The low, lilting hum slips from her lips and winds through the air as the Masked guard joins in. Their voices rise together, a replay of the bathing chamber. Of Clara. Of death.
“Too little,” Alder murmurs, stepping toward me. “Too late.”
Delphara lifts her arms, eyes closing as her fingers begin to move, tracing invisible shapes in the air. Sparks of blue magick flicker at her fingertips—cool, crystalline drops that shimmer like rain suspended mid-fall.
The Tower groans in response. Water weeps from its ancient stone, slipping down the walls in rivulets that pulse with silvery light. The stones beneath us dampen with seawater, pooling in patterns that spiral beneath my feet.
“Now,” Alder says as he steps forward, his smile cold and final. “Shall we begin?”
Thirty-Four
The walls of the Tower loom around me, pressing in,heavy with centuries of sacrifice, of death, of blood offered in devotion, of magick twisted into fate. The machine hums behind me, patient, waiting, its ancient gears groaning, its rusted lungs sighing.
“You said Sylvie saw them take me?” I ask Alderic, my voice a whisper beneath the melodic chant.
He nods once, a flicker of something fierce sparking in his eyes.
We don’t have to say the rest aloud. We both understand what it means.
I lift my chin. My pulse steadies. My breathing smooths. The fire rising inside me is no longer fear—it’s fury. It’s power. This fight isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.
