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Once outside the city’s edge, we slipped into the forest running parallel to the mountain trails. To me, everything looked the same. The trees were cloaked in snow, branches bowing under the storm. But Bomani moved as though the path had been carved for him. Even as the flurry thickened, he pressed forward without hesitation, as if the forest itself parted to let him through.

The sapphire glow of Arianna’s dome peeked through the trees ahead, but the forest air carried a strange mixture of warmth and chill. Above us, the sky shifted from hazy purple into a deep inky black, and the snow that fell was no longer pure white, its flakes stained murky grey, streaked with drifting ash.

Steam rolled into the sky from the direction of the clearing, thick plumes rising where the storm had finally forced the weeks-long fire into submission. It was the most nourishing sight I’d seen in days, making my chest swell as we cut along the trail toward Arianna’s home. Maybe this was one victory. I didn’t want to place my hope too soon, but the way my cloak clung damp to my skin in the middle of a blizzard felt like a good sign.

The tea lights nailed to stumps along the path flickered weakly, the snow and ash falling heavier from the clouds. Wind whistled sharp past my ears, carrying an earthy wet scent tangled with its usual undertone of combustion and decay. Coughing, the three of us passed through the gate, the dome unlocked to admit us into its calm, temperate air.

I lingered, letting the others step through first, giving myself a moment alone. Sheets of storm water slid down the dome overhead, black snow streaking like shadows across the pale blue hue of the spell. We were locked inside a pitch-dark world. Above us, the shimmer scattered like a thousand stars straining through night.

Even after the horrors of tonight, with everything still burning outside, there was still beauty here. And somehow… that was enough to let me breathe.

Pivoting off the stone path, I climbed the path to Arianna’s door. There was only one person I needed to see. The fragile light I’d carried in my chest on the trail snuffed out the moment I let reality catch up to me. My mother. She needed to know what had happened. Tragedy had left her a widow once again.

I didn’t want the details. I didn’t want to imagine how Mark’s body broke beneath Kleitos. I only remembered his final scream. It was blood-curdling, short, and merciful in its brevity. Kleitos had spared him something in that end, but I couldn’t picture it. I wanted to remember him as he once was, frozen in a capsule my heart refused to tarnish.

The cottage door creaked as I opened it, my eyes already searching for her. My heart pounded against my ribs with every step. Maybe this was how Valentina had felt when she confessed to me about beheading someone. I was somewhere caught between guilt and duty. I hadn’t killed Mark, but I had been complicit in his death. His blood wasn't on my hands. But my silence had helped spill it.

She wouldn’t judge me. I knew that. Still, it didn’t erase the truth: tonight had changed me. There was a cruelty in me I hadn’t recognized until William’s death. I didn’t just want him dead. I had wanted him to suffer. I needed him to understand pain the way I did. To choke on it. To feel power break him the way he had wanted to break me.

And what unsettled me most? It didn’t frighten me. It intrigued me.

There she was. Brown hair spilled across her cheek as she sat hunched in her chair, listening to Kleitos fill her in. The moment my boots creaked across the wood, her head snapped up. Her eyes locked with mine, and she was already on her feet. Crossing the small space in a rush, her arms flinging around my shoulders, clutching me as if she’d never let go again. I crushed her against me, arms cinched around her waist.

“Alex,” she sobbed into my ear, her voice trembling so close it rattled my eardrum. “I missed you so much.” One of her hands slid up, cupping the nape of my neck like she needed to anchor me there.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, forcing a smile. “I missed you too. More than you know.” Her hand moved from my neck to my cheek, thumb grazing my skin. The warmth of it poured through me, familiar, steadying. “But…” My smile faltered. The word caught on my tongue like glass. Her own mouth curved downward, warped with sorrow and some deeper knowledge I could only guess at. I dropped my hands from her waist and threaded my fingers through hers, grounding myself in her grip. “I—” The word snagged in my throat. A hard lump rose, choking off the rest. My chest tightened until it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned at the edges of my eyes, spilling despite me.

Her thumbs brushed them away before I could even blink them down. Her voice, raw and quiet, steadied me. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I promise you. It’s going to be okay.”

The others stood silent, watching from the edges of the room. Even Arianna kept her distance, her sharp tongue absent in respect for the weight of this moment.

Finally, I found the strength to say it. My voice cracked under the weight of it, barely a whisper. “Mark’s gone.” The words bled out of me, and with them the dam broke. Every ounce of grief I’d shoved aside to survive the night surged forward as I looked down at her face.

Her hands froze on my face at the finality in my voice, and she closed her eyes. I felt it. The frantic drum of her heart pounded against her ribs, so quick and panicked it was like it wanted to break free. Then, a breath later, it steadied… settling back into her chest with quiet resolve.

Only one tear slipped down her cheek when she opened her eyes again. In a hiccup of breath, soft as a prayer, she whispered, “It’s okay.”

TAINTED| CHAPTER 40

Velsera

Alexander’s POV

Even with my mother’s reassurance, I knew it broke her to accept that Mark was truly gone. They shared memories, children, grief, and dreams for the future. If her love ran as deep as mine did for Valentina, then I understood. A loss like that would feel like death clawing from the inside out. Valentina and I hadn't known each other for twenty years, but I wanted a thousand lifetimes with her.

My mother had peeled off toward her room, and Kleitos followed close, nearly rushing to her aid. A flicker of possessiveness stirred in me. I wanted to shield her from him. But the way he had calmed me the night before…it would be selfish to deny her that same balm. His words could settle nerves like salve on torn skin.

When they disappeared from sight, I sank into the chair Kleitos had vacated. Arianna had been watching in silence, her expression as unreadable as ever. But instead of cutting me down with her usual “bastard king” bite, she slipped into the chair beside me. Bomani, still in his hyena form, sprawled at her feet, his flank rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

With a long sigh, she shut her eyes for a moment before speaking. “The weight of taking a life for the first time. It never leaves,” she said at last, her voice low, stripped of mockery. “Even for me. A demon. Once, I was just a healer. But I wanted more. I craved the taste of power.” Her eyes opened, sharp in the dim light. “And the price of that power? To slaughter someone closer than a parent. A sibling.” The words hung heavy between us, pressing the air thin. “I know the guilt that chains itself to that act. It won’t fade. Not with time. Not with distractions. You will carry it forever.” She paused, her gaze flicking to mine. “But at least you had a reason. A real reason.”

Sitting with that thought for a long moment, I reconciled the decision. Every step I’d made tonight had purpose. I went in with a plan, and I executed it with almost alarming precision. It should have scared me how easy it was. But it didn’t. William had to go. He was a danger to the city, to me, to my secret, to everything I stood for. He was nothing more than a criminal.

Mark, though… Mark was harder. On paper, I could justify it. But my heart stayed conflicted. Could he have been saved? Did any part of his words carry merit? Did he really believe I never wanted to confide in him? Questions I’d never have answers for. And I’d have to live with that. I loved him fiercely, but he loved me recklessly. And recklessness… it couldn’t be contained without permanence. I’d said he didn’t deserve another eulogy, but still every memory of him replayed in my head. I loved him. I really had.

Clearing my throat, I tried to push the weight aside. “Thanks for that,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance. “Solid advice… from a psycho bitch.”