Her merciless expression sharpens.
“And once their worship fills me…” Her voice gains an edge. “I’ll have power. Real power. Enough to tear this world apart.”
Beside me, Kaelzar goes rigid. “Don’t do this, Calista.” His voice is rough. “Don’t punish these people. They’ve done nothing to you.”
She turns to him, saccharine and smug. “You should die for your treachery, Kaelzar, but our arrangement is fulfilled.” She flicks her hand with theatrical flair.
That’s when I see it.
The chains across his chest melt—dripping like candlewax, dissolving into shadow. His arms are exposed, the mysterious sigil etched along his forearm shifting. The circle of black fire contracts to a single ember, and the chains wrapped around it slide free, their links disintegrating as they fall.
Calista watches me watching him, basking in the horror spreading across my face. “The shadows he tore from himself and marked your arm with,” she says, tilting Peonica’s head to point at the ink wrapped around my forearm, “are a promise. He and I had one of our own, made when I sent him to be your Godbeast.”
My blood turns to ice.
“We struck a deal,” she continues calmly. “He would make you win, deliver me your body, and in return, I’d unshackle him. Set him free and give him his friend.” She leans closer, as if sharing a sweetsecret. “Both our obligations have now been fulfilled.”
Kaelzar’s voice drops to a growl. “Where is she?”
Her smile doesn’t falter. “We agreed I’d release her into this world.”
A beat.
“We never agreed where she’d land.”
My stomach drops. The full scope of it clicks into place all at once. From the moment I swore myself to Calista, I thought I was choosing my fate, taking control. I thought I was becoming the people’s champion. But I was only ever being used, and now the truth hits hard enough to hollow me out.
I was never free.
Calista closes her eyes and exhales, soaking in her victory. My mind races for anything—any loophole, any idea—that could stop people from feeding power into her. I’ve made her a hero, and unleashed a monster.
Her voice lowers, steady and cold. “When my power returns fully, we’ll burn every temple but mine. We’ll undo the cities. Baptize the land in blood and rot. The entire realm will worship me, because they will have no other choice.”
Something inside me gives way and my knees hit the floor. Kaelzar is beside me in an instant, but I shove him off. Even his touch feels wrong. He flinches, yet stays close. The guilt in his eyes only sharpens the pain.
“What are you doing to her?” he snarls at Calista.
Doing to me?
I look up and freeze. That grin on Peonica’s face. A grin I knew better than my own. Wrong now in every way.
“The Godbound thread,” Kaelzar says, panic creeping in. “She’s still connected to you. She’s been pulling magic through it while you were distracted.” His hands grip my shoulders, steady but urgent. “Pull it back.”
His words barely register. I can only see his eyes—wide, desperate, pleading. Concern for me. After weeks of knowing I was meant to die. After guiding me straight toward it. And yes, he tried to stop it at the end—but only by letting Peonica take my place. I don’t know whichbetrayal cuts deeper.
“You knew this would happen,” I whisper. “These past few days… you knew I’d lose her again.”
“Peonica wanted it that way,” he says, jaw tight. “She made me swear to keep her secret. And what would it have changed? She had to give the ring back willingly. She never would have.”
I have so much to say—anger, grief, questions burning through me—but nothing comes out. My gaze drops to his chest.
No ink. No chains.
He follows my stare. He sees the question forming before I speak it.
Kaelzar shakes his head. “Our bargain”—he gestures to the remaining puddle of ink on his skin—“forbids me from harming Calista. Even now, after it’s done. I can’t stop her, Trouble.” His voice softens. “But you can.”
I hate the way he looks at me with his storm-gray eyes full of trust I don’t want and need anyway. Because right now, as Calista draws in every prayer meant for me and strips power straight from my core, I don’t know who I am without it.
