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“You finally proved your innocence, Helion. You are free.”

Astaroth’s power tore through me, the sensation like a thousand insects burrowing beneath my skin, but even that pain was nothing compared to the loss that followed.

One moment, I was cradled against Helion’s chest, wrapped in his warmth and the desperate strength of his arms.

The next, he was gone.

Cold bone armour pressed against my body instead, the guard’s unyielding grip replacing the arms that had fought so hard not to let me go.

“Get your fucking hands off her!”

I should have panicked. I should have fought, screamed, begged them to let me go. Fear should have been clawing through my chest, demanding that I do something.

But there was nothing left.

The grief had hollowed me out so completely that even fear could no longer find a place to live. I was nothing but an empty shell, watching from somewhere far outside myself.

Flames exploded across Helion’s body so violently the air cracked with the force of them, fire spilling from his hands, his shoulders, his very skin until he burnt as bright as the sun.

He threw both hands forward and fire detonated across the chamber.

The blast struck Astaroth’s shoulder, white-hot flame sinking into the god’s flesh. Heat punched through the room in a wave that made the guard holding me stagger back.

Helion charged straight through the smoke, flames still pouring from his skin, murder written into every line of his face.

Astaroth’s roar split the air, sending shivers over my body as if a thousand ghosts were pressing against my skin.

The flames spluttered out, leaving smoke wafting with the sickening stench of burnt flesh.

Nausea rolled through me at the sight of what remained.

Half his face was blackened and split, peeling back in places to reveal angry, blistered flesh beneath. His hair had been singed away at the temple, and the fire had eaten through his clothing from shoulder to hip, leaving one side of his chest raw and charred.

Blisters swelled across his ribs, some already ruptured, while patches of skin had burned so deeply, they had gone dark and leathery.

His eyes flooded white and he lifted one hand.

Helion stopped so abruptly his entire body jerked.

The flames coating him convulsed, fighting to stay alive, before sputtering out one by one. Helion snarled and strained against the invisible force, every muscle trembling as he tried to force his body forward.

“No.” His voice cracked. “No. Let her fucking go. Take me instead.”

Astaroth curled his fingers and Helion’s knees hit the stone.

“You will pay for that,” he promised in a cold voice.

Panic flickered weakly beneath the weight of my grief as Helion struggled.

“Leave him,” I breathed through numb lips. “Helion, you have to let me go.”

For most of my life, I had clawed at every cage that tried to hold me. I had bled for freedom. Killed for it. Thrown myself from cliffs and into oceans rather than let another person decide where I belonged.

But this was a cage that I would not fight.

Helion let out a defeated cry as the bone guard carried me from the temple, down the stairs and into the forest.

The flowers now bloomed with vibrant blues and purples, and the decayed vines turned green as life flooded back through them.