And for Penyth—even forCrea—for those who sacrificed themselves in the trials, and those living on Kauri, for my friends and those who gave themselves for the good of the empire, I would do it.
“You don’t know me,” I snarl, twirling the blade in my hand. “You met me as Amira, but I’m Lunaria, too. Daughter of Evelina, Queen of Penyth. Rider of Zephyr. Daughter of two worlds. Goddess-forged.”
I take a step toward him, closing the gap between us. His shadows swirl around him, snakes preparing to strike.
“The blade won’t help you, no matter who you are,” he sneers. “Opal is at least smart enough to be afraid of what I’m capable of—of whose power I harness.”
In an instant, Moros’s shadows lash out at me, vying for Nightfall as they strike.
My own shadows meet his, clashing in a tangle of darkness.
Opal falls away from me, blown back by the impact. The shadows around Adrian fall away, but the moment they slide off of him, he’s blasted back too. His head cracks against the wall, causing him to slump against the ground, unconscious.
“It isn’t me that should be afraid.” This time, it’s my turn to smirk. “It’s you.”
Moros’s shadows are held off by mine, but they’re getting closer to my hands with each passing second.
Nightfall hums in my grasp, wildly thrashing against my mind, demanding to be let in as it reacts to my magic pouring out of me.
Finally, I stop resisting.
I gasp as ancient magic rushes through me like a tidal wave. It’s like a roaring fire that consumes everything in its path. My magic grows stronger, fire bursting from my hands at the same time shadows do, both of them winding together in a beautiful dance of darkness and light.
It’s working, exactly as the warning predicted.
But then something changes.
Nightfall keeps consuming, and my magic stutters around me, my fire flickering like it did when I used it the first time.
It’sdrainingit. Just as the shard began to drain the magic I presented it, the dagger does too. Only it’s faster—more ruthless.
The connection to my Undine side goesfirst, quickly followed by my Aegis and Woodland pieces. So fast that I don’t have time to blink, let alone try to stop it. It’s a virus that leaves nothing but destruction in its wake, devouring my Essence like it’s its final meal.
My shadows begin to wane as it finally strikes my Nocturna side. Just as my shadows begin to drain, I slam the barrier down between my magic and Nightfall.
Now, only the wisps of shadows remain, quiet—not gone, just…hiding. Curled up against my soul as if sensing that they’re alone now. What’s left of my magic dulls to a whisper, leaving me with an empty ache deep in my chest.
But the dagger keeps pulling, snapping the threads that bind my Nocturna side to me in a sharp, soul-shattering cleave. There’s an emptiness in my soul where the fire used to be—same as my connection to the ocean and earth.
Moros grins, thinking he’s simply stronger than me.
With a heartbreaking finality, I feel the last of my magic give over to the dagger in my palm. Just as quiet as when the shard took it, but this time feels final. Painfully and horribly final.
That’s when I know.
The price of using the shard was giving it pieces of my magic.
Whoever sent that warning about needing to make Nightfall whole was right; itdidgive me my magic back. But not to keep.
So I could pay the price it needed in order for me to wield it.
In the same breath the realization hits, Moros’s shadows race for me.
Behind him, I hadn’t noticed Adrian move—hadn’t heard him wake from the floor or move behind Moros. Just as Moros’s shadows wrap around me, Adrian snaps the collar around his uncle’s neck.
Moros’s magic dissipates instantly.
The last human king, the kindle that ignited the rebellion in the first war, stumbles away from me. He claws at his neck,yanking at the magic suppressor he once gave to Adrian to use on me.
