Kaldrek loosened his grip slowly, waiting for any type of movement, but none came. So he let her go.
She was at her brother’s side instantly, dropping to the marble and gathering him into her lap, holding him as if she could keep his soul tethered to her through sheer will alone. But his skin was pale, his face slack.
Kaldrek knew deep in his bones that Cillian was gone.
Alaric dropped to his knees beside them, resting a steady hand on Evelyne’s back. The sight of another man touching her stirred no possessiveness in Kaldrek. This was not a battle for dominance, nor a fight for her attention. It was a moment of grief, a quiet offering of comfort between two friends bound by sorrow.
Kaldrek moved with quiet hands, tearing a strip of cloth from Vaelora’s dress and gently covering Cillian’s body before sinking to his knees beside them in silence.
“Evelyne,” he said gently, but she did not respond. She cradled Cillian against her chest, pressing desperate kisses to his forehead.
Her voice cracked as she pleaded with him, her words unraveling into broken sobs. “It’s me, Cillian. Evelyne. Please come back. Please, please don’t leave me.”
Every word ripped through Kaldrek’s heart. He couldn’t stand the sight of her in pain.
“Evelyne, he is gone,” Alaric said hoarsely.
“No! No, please, gods, no!” Evelyne sobbed, clinging to Cillian tighter, rocking him back and forth like she could bring him back through sheer love.
Alaric bowed his head, a low, strangled sound escaping him.
The throne room was silent, the air heavy with grief.
Evelyne had fought so hard to find her brother, to save him. And now she held him dead in her arms, another life stolen by Vaelora’s cruelty.Kaldrek’s eyes burned with unshed tears. They had won the battle, but it felt hollow.
“Kaldrek!” Obren’s voice rang out through the silence. “Look.”
Everyone’s attention shifted as Obren pointed toward Cillian. Kaldrek followed his gesture, his gaze landing on Cillian’s face.
His eyes were open, vacant and unfocused as he stared up at the ceiling. Something sparked behind them, like a flicker of light.
A moment later, his eyes glowed with a vivid, unmistakable gold.
The pale cast of his skin began to lift as a gentle light stirred within him, growing stronger with each steady heartbeat. It spread outward, spilling over the marble floor like warm sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Everyone watched in awe as Cillian’s entire form began to glow, as if the darkness inside him had been driven out by the sheer force of the light rising from within.
Cillian blinked. “Evelyne?” His voice was hoarse and confused, but unmistakably his own.
The room exhaled as one. He was alive.
Holden spoke first. “How did you do that?”
Cillian slowly pushed himself upright, his hands trembling slightly, still flickering with golden light. When he spoke again, his voice was steady. “I am a keeper of light. The one chosen to purify the darkness. The one who can cleanse a soul consumed by shadow.”
Evelyne stared at him, stunned and disbelieving. “What?”
Cillian swallowed and let out a long breath. “I had to purge myself of her power, in order to be me.” His gaze locked onto Evelyne’s with fierce intensity. “It’s gone, Evelyne.” His voice broke as a sob escaped him, his face crumpling under the weight of relief and grief.
Evelyne threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. “Of course you figured it out,” she whispered. “You’re the only one who could.”
Kaldrek let out a low exhale and felt something inside him finally ease. They had done it. The Noskari might still haunt the world beyond the shattered palace walls, and more battles surely lay ahead, but none of that mattered right now. Right now, he found himself captivated, unable to do anything but admire Evelyne’s strength.
He saw the pain in her eyes when she glanced at him, the betrayal and hurt that still lingered, and it cut deeper than any wound. Yet he managed a small, broken smile as he watched her hold her brother tightly, as if her love alone could somehow make him whole again.
Minutes passed before Kaldrek noticed the faint tremble of her hands and the subtle shift in her expression. Then, suddenly, Evelyne jolted. Her arms slipped from around Cillian. Kaldrek’s instincts flared as she gasped and fell backward, her body hitting the marble hard. Every muscle in his body went taut as he watched her drop onto all fours, her fingers clawing at the floor.
“Evelyne?” he called cautiously, stepping forward. But she did not seem to hear him.
She clutched her chest, her breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps. When she lifted her head, Kaldrek’s blood turned to ice.
