Page 90
“You chose immortality.”
“I know.”
“You chose to betray the only person who ever saw you as something other than a monster.”
“I know!” The admission tore out of his chest, ragged and furious. “I know what I did. I know what I am. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for hers. I’m telling you that I am done repeating this fucking loop.”
A sound like shattering glass tore from the Entity’s throat as it laughed. “Prove it!”
The stone floor split open beneath Malachi’s boots. He staggered back, his heels catching the edge of a widening chasm that plunged into absolute void. Freezing black mist poured from the fissure, dropping the chamber's temperature so fast that my breath condensed into thick white clouds.
“Surrender the Devil’s power,” the Entity demanded, gesturing toward the abyss. “Surrender the function. Surrender the authority you built from your original betrayal. Cast everything you are into the dark, and I will let the heir walk free.”
“Malachi, don’t—” I lunged forward, but Khaos caught my arm in an iron grip.
“Wait,” Khaos murmured, his mismatched eyes tracking the fissure. “Let him make the move.”
Malachi turned his head. For a long, breathless moment, his gray eyes met mine, carrying a century of accumulated regret, fierce possession, and desperate penance. Then he turned back to the void.
“You want the Devil?” Malachi said coldly. “Take him.”
He stepped toward the edge.
“No!” Wrenching violently away from Khaos, I threw myself forward, but Rook caught me around the waist, his scarred arms locking me in place like iron bands. “Don’t you fucking dare! Malachi, stop!”
“I’m not asking for your permission, Zinnia.” Malachi’s voice remained steady even as the tremor in his hands worsened. “I’m not asking you to love me, forgive me, or remember me as anything other than the bastard who ruined you. I’m asking you to let me do this one thing right.”
“By dying?” Furious tears burned my cheeks. “By throwing yourself into a pit and pretending that’s love?”
“It’s not love,” he answered, his mouth curving into a bitter, broken smile. “It’s penance.”
“Fuck your penance!” I twisted against Rook’s grip, driving my elbow back into his ribs, but the Hound held fast. “You don’t get to decide that suicide is the cure. You don’t get to make that choice on my behalf.”
“I’m not making it for you. I’m making it for myself.”
“Bullshit,” I choked out. “You’re doing this because you think it wipes your ledger clean. It doesn’t. It won’t bring back the life I had before you broke it. It won’t erase the century you spent feeding this meat grinder. And it sure as hell won’t make me worship you.”
Malachi flinched as if struck. “I know,” he said softly.
“Then why?”
“Because I can’t watch you die.” His composure splintered on the words. “I can’t stand here and watch this place consume you the way it took everyone else. I won’t live in a world where you don’t exist, Zinnia. I can’t.”
The chasm groaned, widening another foot as tendrils of black smoke coiled around Malachi’s calves and dragged him toward the drop.
“The Devil has chosen,” the Entity declared, its voice echoing from the stone. “The debt is collected. The heir is released.”
“No.” I stopped struggling and let my muscles go completely still against Rook’s chest. “That’s not how this works.”
“The bargain is sealed.”
“The bargain is void.” Staring Malachi straight in the eyes, I forced air back into my lungs. “You don’t get to trade your life for mine. You don’t get to dress up your guilt as a gift. I didn’t ask for it, I didn’t consent to it, and I never gave you permission to decide my fate.”
Malachi stared back, his expression stark and unreadable.
“Let me go,” I told Rook.
“Zinnia—”
