It laughed again, delighting in my impatience. “He didn’t fail.”
No. That couldn’t be. If the King had succeeded in creating something inhuman, the realms would already be in ruin. My gut tightened.
“I can hear the clock ticking in your mind, Dark one,” it whispered, voice slick like oil. “The weapon… has been in your life for a long time. You never saw it, never knew it… and the King will take it. He will take it and consume all the realms, as he was meant to. Everyone dies, and you had no idea that you were in love with the very thing he created.”
Something inside me snapped. Shadows erupted from my skin like living black fire, tendrils writhing with teeth and claws of their own. The vampire's heart tore free in my hand with a wet pop, and I shoved it down its throat, making him choke, gag, writhe.
But the shadows didn’t stop. They surged up my arms, across the walls, over the floor, devouring the light. The dungeon screamed with the sound of cracking stone and metal bending, as if reality itself was trying to escape my fury. My chest heaved uncontrollably, heart hammering.
I could feel the darkness within me stretching, hungry, unbound, whispering that I was no longer me. I saw the vampire squirm, every limb twisting like a puppet on fire. The tendrils shredded everything in reach, including him.
Tunnel vision consumed my sight. Faces, walls, even Dean's presence vanished beneath the black tide. All that existed was the fire of my rage, the cold clarity of antihalation, and the shocking, unbearable truth.
A truth I didn’t want to believe.
Chapter 39
RAVENA
“I’ve never seen a unicorn before.”
The sound of his voice pulls a smile from me, even with everything hanging over us.
The unicorn nibbles on the berries in my palm, its soft lips brushing against my skin. I glance over my shoulder and see him standing there, wearing that charmingly handsome grin. His eyes shine with a light that makes it impossible not to feel love—pure and unshakable—with every beat of my heart.
He’s beautiful—always has been—in that unfair, pretty-boy way that makes it difficult not to look at him. But now… now he’s something else entirely. The stubble along his jaw softens and sharpens him all at once, rugged in a way that makes my chest twinge, because he shouldn’t be allowed to look this good. His hair has grown out just enough to fall into a messy tangle, dark and wild, and every time it slips into his eyes, I want to reach up and push it back. I want to touch him constantly—run my fingers through it, trace the lines of his face, remind myself he’s real, that he’s mine.
“Come closer. Stroke him—he won't bite,” I say, tilting my head at Ronan and daring him.
He quirks a brow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, that’s usually the line right before somebody loses a hand. Pretty sure I’ve seen that movie.”
I smirk, not letting him off easily. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a unicorn?”
His laugh is low and teasing. “Afraid? Cherry, I’ve fought monsters twice my size and uglier than Malrik on a good day. I just don’t usually cuddle with things that have spears growing out of their heads.”
I bite back a smile. “Then prove it.”
He steps forward and the unicorn studies him warily, but Ronan's focus never wavers—it’s on me, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist to him.
When he finally stops by my side, his warmth envelops me, steady and overwhelming at the same time. His eyes drift down to my mouth, lingering there as if he's battling with himself. It’s unclear why, because I am his, and he is mine. Then, he leans in, closing the distance and stealing the breath right out of me.
The kiss is unhurried at first, careful in a way that makes me want to hold onto him, and then his tongue brushes over my bottom lip. I can’t help the smile that curls against his mouth, a quiet surrender, a soft laugh caught between us.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I love you too.”
I don’t think I will ever tire of hearing those three words.
The unicorn nudges my hand again, pulling a small laugh from me. “Alright, alright,” I murmured, offering it the rest of the berries. My fingers trail through its silken mane, slow and careful, as if I press too hard, the moment might shatter. Its trust feels fragile. Precious.
“Did you know they’re hunted for their blood and horns?” The words slip out quietly, and when I peer up at Ronan, there’s a sad curve to my smile that I can’t quite hide.
His brow furrows, but I keep going. “Humans think their blood is magic—cures for sickness, bottled miracles. Andshifters.” I exhale. “They kill them for sport. That’s why they are endangered.”
“And how do you know all of this?” Ronan asks curiously.
His hand finally brushes the unicorn’s neck, tentative at first, and the creature lets out a soft, pleased sound, its horn flickering with a faint glow under the light. For a moment, the world feels impossibly still—him, me, and this fragile bit of magic caught between us.
