Was it guilt driving her, the horror of what she’d done under Laran’s Tears? Or the fear of losing herself again? Maybe she thought jumping was the only way to keep them safe—from her, from the raging magic she couldn’t control.
The look of silent apology she gave him tore him to shreds. She was already slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.
Not like this.
Not broken, bleeding, half-collapsed on his knees.
All he had were words—words he should’ve spoken long ago, when they still mattered.
He wanted to tell her she was the fiercest, most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The first moment she’d stood in the arena, bloodied and unyielding, had sparked something inside his frozen heart. And when she’d defied Aurelius, refusing to bend, he’d remembered how it felt tohope.
He’d been a fucking fool. Even back in Tiryns, he’d let her go. Told her to send word if she needed him, when he should’ve gone with her.
But all that came out was a whisper, cracked and ruined. “Don’t go.”
For a breathless instant, the storm seemed to pause around them.
Katell stared at him, and for the first time since escaping the Tears’ influence, he truly saw her—not the weapon the Rasennans had twisted her into, not the broken shadow teetering on the edge, buther.
Katell, the Freefolk girl who’d once met his smart remarks with fire and fury, who’d fought with the ferocity of a lioness, defending those she loved without a second thought, even at her own cost.
She looked at him like someone watching a dream die. In that aching silence, her gaze revealed everything he’d almost lost and everything that might’ve been.
Then it was over.
Katell shook her head again and again, as if the motion alone could keep her from falling apart. “I have the memories.” Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. “The memories—they all came back.” She clutched her head, nails digging into her scalp. “You don’t understand… the things they made me do…”
She trailed off, and Nik’s heart twisted. Hedidunderstand. He’d heard the reports: rebel camps turned to ash, the Eluvites slaughtered by the Makhai—men, women, children. The Rasennans had made her hurt those she’d always tried to save.
He reached for her anyway. “Kat?—”
She flinched, retreating another step. Her heel hovered at the cliff’s edge now. “No. I’m dangerous. Stay away!”
“Don’t do this?—”
“Tell Alena… it’s better this way. They won’t use me again. Tell her—” Her voice cracked.
He surged upright, ignoring the fire screaming through his ribs. “Kat, listen to me?—”
But she didn’t. She took one final step back. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
Then she turned, and his hand snatched empty air as her silhouette disappeared over the cliff’s edge.
“Kat!”Nik peered over the brink, heart in his throat. Below, her dark form struck the churning river with a splash, then vanished into the roiling depths.
She’d survive the fall. She had to.
But he might not.
And by the Twelve, he didn’t care.
Reckless or not, he’d already sold his soul to the North Wind—might as well let the bastard collect early and save everyone the trouble.
“Hope you’re watching,” he muttered through gritted teeth, then jumped.
The wind shrieked in his ears, stealing the last of his warmth. He twisted midair, bracing for the impact. The river rushed up to meet him?—
Then—pain.
