I stare at him, at the man I love, the monster he can’t escape.
I whisper. “I know, husband.”
He steps forward, his hands gripping my shoulders.
“Now that Emranth is fed,” he says quietly, “he is stronger and so am I.”
The night wind brushes past us, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of smoke and death away with it.
I lift my chin, meeting his gaze.
“Then now is the time.”
Chapter 46
Amara
The dawn breaks not with birdsong, but with silence.
The kind that hums beneath the skin and sets the heart to trembling.
The Tenders line the path, their heads bowed, hands clasped over their chests. Mirael stands among them, her face streaked with tears she doesn’t bother to hide. Keeper Erania holds her staff high, offering final blessing as Daed and I pass.
They murmur prayers to the Souls, soft and reverent.For the Jewel. For the Awakened. For Estra.
I touch their hands as I pass, each one a goodbye, each one a promise that I will return.
Then I look back one last time at my home, my heart, the Grove that gave me life and light.
“This is it,” Daed says quietly. “Once the gate is open, there’s no turning back.”
“I know.”
He extends his hand, and I take it. The earth stirs beneath my bare feet.
His jaw tightens. “You don’t need to…”
“I do.” I meet his gaze, steady and sure. “You know I do.”
For a moment, the storm in his eyes breaks, not with fury, but sorrow. Then, with a breath that sounds too much like a prayer, he raises his other hand. The air splits open with a sound like the world tearing. Within the wound, there is only darkness, endless and ancient. The rift widens until it becomes a doorway, a mouth yawning toward eternity.
One by one, they step through. The last of the Blades of Baev’kalath, then Zyphoro, Orios and Solena, Reon close behind, Ronin last of them until only Daed and I remain.
He squeezes my hand, steadying me, the pounding heart, the rushing blood, the swirl of fear and faith. A breeze sweeps through the village, brushing a strand of hair across my face, and he tucks it back behind my ear with a tenderness that hurts.
I manage a breathless smile. “Maybe I should’ve braided my hair before going to battle.”
He studies me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “No. I prefer you like this,” he murmurs. “This is how I want to remember you.”
For a heartbeat, we simply look at each other, the golden threads between us glowing faintly, dusting the air like fireflies only we can see. Then, we turn together to face the void.
The rift seals behind us as we step through, the world stitching its wound closed until all light vanishes. Darkness folds around us, thick and absolute. The Fae move with ease, their eyes keen in shadow, but Ronin and I are not so blessed. I refuse to stumble blindly, so I lift my palm.
A single green flame blossoms to life, small, but it burns bright enough to guide us through the dark.
It does not improve the view.
There is only infinite darkness, an unbroken sea of shadow, but at least now I can see it with my own eyes.
