Auryn blinked. “Try it?”
He turned to her, eyes catching the firelight.
“No Estâr. No Companions. Four Cycles—Dark, Ice, Fire, Growth. A full year,ilphara, with no Estâr. Let Us see the results.”
Her heart thudded once, hard enough to echo. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Her toes had gone numb. No Estâr?Truly?So simply? To take the pain of the man she loved—his suffering, his ritualized torment — andreleaseit with no fanfare, no conditions?
It didn’t feel real.
“The Council will oppose you,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled. “Certainly, they will try.”
Then, with the soft heat of a flame curling around a wick, he said: “But they, too, must be reminded that the Doctrine isn’t in books and scrolls and paintings. It is inUs.”
“Father,” she breathed, her voice wavering. “Father, I—”
“Careful,” he murmured.
His voice didn’t sharpen. It quieted. A whisper of a blade.
“We know what you would say, and We must caution you against it. If you wish to rule, you must standabove. Above gratitude, especially. A strong ruler isn’t thankful. He is strong enough totakeand togive.”
She nodded, slowly.
A kingly gift. Yet it makes no difference. Compared to those willing vessels, I would much rather occupy your every thought, your every dream. Buy his freedom, little ember, knowing you will never be free of me yourself.
Shu’Khan spoke again.
“You’ve been hiding these summons from Iridias, have you not?” His tone was light, nearly fond. “And Our gifts.”
Auryn said nothing. The silence stretched. Taut as wire. Sharp as judgment.
“It pains Us to think you may be ashamed to align yourself with Us before Our brother.”
Her fingers clenched around the tome.
“It isn’t about alignment,” she said.
But the rest of the sentence wouldn’t come.
He rose.
One step.
Another.
Descending from his dais as though gravity bent itself to his command.
“He does not trust Our intent,” Shu’Khan murmured. “And he is right to doubt. We were…different, before We knew you. But now? Now We see your potential. Your light.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“So, tell him,ilphara.” He was close now. Reaching—his hand suspended in the air between them. Not touching. Hovering.
“Tell him of Our talks. Of Our efforts. Tell him everything. Do right by him.”
His voice dipped.
