The noise tears through the room. His back arches, body convulsing. The light crawls up his throat, bursting through the fissures across his chest.
Kieran doesn’t stop. The chant builds, cresting into a final phrase that doesn’t belong to any language I have ever heard.
Zane’s eyes find mine one last time. For a heartbeat, there’s something human there—pain, regret, recognition—and then, it’s gone.
The light explodes, and his body fractures, shattering into ash mid-scream. For a moment, his outline hangs in the air, a ghost made of dust. Then it collapses, falling through my fingers in a slow, gray rain.
A hush follows. Thick. Suffocating.
Kieran sways, catching himself on the edge of a table. Lucian lowers his knife, chest heaving. I just stand there, staring at the pile of ash on the floor.
Selene’s voice breaks the silence. “Seth?”
She’s across the room, near Astra. Her hands aretrembling, her eyes bright with shock. The bond between us buzzes—so alive, so loud.
Kieran wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “The undead is destroyed. Whatever bound him—it’s gone.” His gaze flicks to my mate. “And you, Selene—you’re free. The binding he had on you snapped when he disintegrated.”
Selene exhales, a sound somewhere between relief and anguish. Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, the room fades away.
Lucian’s tone cuts through the haze. “The necromancer?”
Kieran shakes his head weakly. “He must have anticipated that we would come, that someone would come. He remained hidden. If he were on the estate, I would sense him.”
Lucian’s jaw tightens. “Then, we’ll find him.”
I nod, but I can’t stop shaking. The ash clings to my skin, sticking to the sweat and blood. No matter how hard I try to brush it off, it stays.
When I finally look up, Selene is coming toward me, watching me. Her mouth opens, words caught behind the tremor in her breath.
“Are you hurt?” she asks softly.
“No.”
Her gaze holds mine, steady despite the fear still in it. The bond between us pulls tight with heat and gratitude and something else I can’t name.
Zane is gone. Selene is free. But the air still tastes like ash.
She steps closer, just enough that I can feel her warmth, though we don’t touch. My chest aches with everything I don’t say.
“Don’t,” she whispers. “Don’t shut me out right now.”
“I’m not.” My voice comes out rough. “I just…can’t let go yet.”
The corner of her mouth shudders, but she nods. “Then don’t.”
Behind her, Lucian steadies Astra, the last echoes of the spell on her fading from the air. The scent of burnt magic lingers—iron and smoke and the faint trace of something old leaving the room.
I keep my eyes on Selene. The dust still swirls around us, catching the light like embers.
Zane’s gone. But she’s here.
And for the first time in too long, I can breathe.
The aftermathof this whole incident is nothing compared to the guilt my mate feels.
It’s been a week, and the castle feels quieter now, though maybe that’s just me. Selene spends most of her time in the healers’ compound, looking after her friend. Although Daciana is recovering, Selene holds herself responsible for what happened.
Astra has tried to convince her it wasn’t her fault. Daciana, too. But my mate refuses to leave her friend’s side. At this point, I’ve simply accepted it.
