Her other hand walked its fingers along Naerysa’s chest, clawing for the pulse of her heart.
“You tookeverything. Every life, every dream, every breath and joy we were meant to have…you stole them.” The words left Esmyra, but they echoed with Kaelypso’s voice as they condemned their twins together. “And now, both you and Syrena will pay.”
As one hand remained at Naerysa’s throat, the other hovered above her chest for only a moment before plunging through cloth, flesh, and bone. Her grip was iron, lightning crawling from her fingertips into her sister’s skin. The magic flared white-hot between them, seeking the pulse of the goddess’s heart.
The moon burned above, the tower shuddered below, and in that instant, it was as if the world itself held its breath.
Naerysa thrashed beneath her, nails clawing at Esmyra’s wrist as her face contorted in horror. The usual veil of smug arrogance was gone, stripped away in an instant, leaving behind only raw fear. Her amber eyes that once gleamed with cruel delight were now widened in disbelief, the reflection of the Blood Moon casting them in a frantic, desperate light.
A strangled scream tore from Naerysa, ragged and panicked as it echoed through the crumbling throne room, realizing that her stolen power and wicked games meant nothing in this moment. For the first time, the Goddess of the Surface looked helpless, and Esmyra felt a thrill roil through her as Kaelypso reveled in it.
Naerysa’s lips moved, strangled words bubbling from her throat as her claws dug deeper. The sound was garbled and broken, too faint to catch over the roaring chaos surrounding them.
Esmyra’s brows furrowed, her voice cutting sharp as a blade. “It’s too late for words,Sister. Nothing will save you now,” she finished as she felt their heart within her grasp.
But then, instead of fighting back, Naerysa’s lips curled into a cruel, bloodied smile. Her eyes glittered with a shard of triumph even through the terror. “If I fall,” she rasped, “then your beloved burns with me.”
Esmyra’s eyes flared, her head whipping around instinctively as her heart plummeted.
Amidst the madness, Azarian stood, his battered armor glinting dully in the red, blazing light, as a weapon was raised. Her eyes trailed up the spear’s shaft, and horror seized her as its velsinyte tip gleamed—aimed directly at Draevyn’s unguarded back.
Her breath caught, time fractured, and the sounds of the battle dimmed as it all became drowned beneath the thunder of her pulse.
No. Not him.Anyonebut him.
Esmyra had single-handedly fought kingdoms and armies. She had risen from death and storm and carved her vengeance from the bones of a past life.
But the thought of Draevyn’s body crumpling before her, of hisfire being snuffed out by that cursed shard was unbearable. And if there would come a time where he fell, then she would go with him.
She vowed today would not be that day.
Her sister’s life was in her hands, victory squeezing within her grasp, but none of it mattered. Not vengeance. Not the kingdom. Not even the godhood that thrummed in her veins.
Because Esmyra’s choice had been made, carved into the marrow of her soul the moment his fire met her storm.
And her choice would always be him. Even if it meant everything else burned.
The world fractured into pieces as Azarian began closing in on Draevyn, each stride carrying the velsinyte shardshebrought here closer to its mark.
“Irah didn’t save me,” Kaelypso started, making tears sting the back of her eyes, “but we can save Draevyn.”
Esmyra’s heart twisted violently, and her body moved before her mind could catch up.
With a desperate snarl, she shoved Syrena away. Her sister’s shriek tore through the collapsing chamber as she was hurled aside, tumbling down the jagged slope of broken stone. But Esmyra barely spared her a glance, only witnessing her plummet out of the corner of her eye.
Because all her focus was locked on Draevyn.
Her power unfurled, propelling her forward. Every detail of her surroundings turned sharp and merciless: the crimson glow of the moon bleeding through the fractured ceiling, the gleam of the shard’s deadly point, the broad span of Draevyn’s back, unaware of death stalking him.
“DRAEVYN!” His name ripped from her throat in a raw and desperate scream.
He whirled around, those whiskey eyes widening the instant they landed on her, on the terror she knew was etched into her face.
The distance between them shrank and stretched all at once in a cruel distortion of time. Her bare feet skimmed the rubble as if the ground barely existed, each stride weightless and driven by desperationalone. Her hair whipped back in the wind, strands catching the light like threads of silver flame.
Esmyra’s hands snapped forward, lightning sparking violently at her fingertips as she aimed for Azarian’s heart. The bolt shrieked across the air, only to collide with a wall of solar heat as Naerysa’s power blocked her strike.
The force of it nearly made her stumble as her sister’s laughter echoed like shattered glass in her ears.
