Page 3 of Blade of the Nightking

I lifted my good hand and cupped his cheek. His eyes met mine, and the despair in them nearly broke me.

“Don’t,” he whispered, pleading. “Don’t even say it.”

“Go,” I rasped. My throat felt flayed, every word scraping over burned vocal cords. “Leave me.”

Something flared in his gaze, a hard, rekindled resolve. “Never.”

The floor split beneath us, a jagged crack racing across the marble. Heat gusted upward. Aedric straightened despite the shuddering earth and held me tighter in his arms.

“Alright,” he said, looking over my head toward his cousins. “Let’s go.”

The Cauldron’s rumble deepened, swelling into a low roar as they stepped to Aedric’s side. Calantha lifted her hand. Flame leapt from her palm and spun outward, widening into a suspended ring of fire. Aedric shifted me carefully, extending one arm to conjure a second circle beside hers.

“As soon as we reach Dheren,” he tightened his grip around me, “run for the healers.”

For a heartbeat, pity softened Calantha’s features, as if he were a child who couldn’t grasp the reality before him. “It’s Firstborn magic, Aedric. Nothing can be done for her now.”

“Obey your orders!” Aedric bellowed, rage tearing through him. His circle flickered violently before steadying again.

Calantha’s jaw clamped shut. Her expression reset into its cool, unreadable mask. Without a word, she seized Hamish’s hand and stepped through the circle. It vanished behind them.

A heartbeat later, the Cauldron roared. The walls lit in a sudden wash of orange, and heat slammed into us. The volcano was erupting.

Aedric didn’t spare it a glance. His blue eyes locked on mine, fierce and unyielding.

“Hold on.”

“Aedric, I⁠—”

I love you I love you I love you.

“No,” he cut me off firmly. “If you say it now, I’ll know you’re saying goodbye. And I won’t let you say goodbye.”

He lifted me higher and stepped through the ring of fire. Over his shoulder, I saw the first surge of lava spill into the chamber, just as the circle sealed—and then we were gone.

The flames swallowed us whole.

Last time, they’d been gentle, licking at my skin with playful, harmless heat as Aedric carried me through the world-between. But this time the fire hit like a storm.

It slammed into my burned flesh, blistering agony flaring through every nerve. The flames coiled tighter, hotter, growing vicious the deeper we went. They didn’t stroke; they struck, snapping at my skin as if the magic itself wanted to tear us apart.

I tried to breathe, and ash seared up my nose. It stung my eyes, burning under my lids until everything blurred. The sound roared in my ears, a wind of fire so loud it drowned my own thoughts. And still Aedric held me, his arms locked around me like a vise.

I felt him shaking with effort as he fought to control the magic that transported us. Something was wrong. Terribly, impossibly wrong.

My vision tunneled. The pain—gods, the pain.

Aedric snarled in my ear as if fighting an invisible current. “Hold on—just hold on until Dheren⁠—”

And then, without warning, the fire yanked us forward. The world of flames vanished, snuffed out like a candle.

We fell.

Aedric twisted midair, pulling me onto his chest so he hit the ground first. The impact slammed the breath from his lungs in a single hard grunt. Darkness rushed up to meet me, closing over me at last.

I wanted it to.

I wanted the blackness.