I screamed.
Magic answered.
It burst outward, flooding the hall in a tide of light and blood that devoured the shadows. The Demon King threw up both hands, his power roaring in protest. The shield he desperately tried to keep in place crumbled again with a sound like shattering glass. The flames hit him with full force.
He staggered backward, clothes burning, skin cracking under the intense power. The red veins in my fire tightened, pulsing faster, matching the wild rhythm in my chest. I could feel Malakai in every heartbeat, guiding and fightingwithme.
The King fell to one knee.
“Stay down,” I whispered, tears cutting through the blood on my face. “This ends with you.”
He tried one last time to rise, power gathering in a desperate surge. But I didn’t let him. The final wave of fire tore through him, light, blood, and love fused into one unbearable brilliant force.
For a long moment, the world held its breath.
The light faded, leaving only ash, wind, and silence.
I stood trembling in the wreckage, smoke curling around me, the last embers fading from my hands. The King was dead.
And at my feet, Malakai was still. The glow in his skin had not returned, but his face was peaceful, almost serene. I dropped to my knees beside him, the world blurring again.
“Hey,” I whispered, brushing blood from his cheek. “It’s done. You can come back now.”
No answer.
My own heartbeat stuttered, unsure if it should keep going.
For a long, fragile moment, I waited for him to stir, to make some terrible joke about my aim, to open his eyes and tell me it was over.
But there was nothing, only the stillness of someone who had giveneverything.
I pressed trembling fingers to his throat, then to his chest.
Cold. Silent.
“No,” I whispered. The word didn’t sound like mine. “No, no, no—”
The words he had spoken, I thought it had been poetic, out of love… I thought he meant it metaphorically, some vow born from our feelings. But as I knelt there, feeling my own heartbeat steady where his should have been, the truth cut through like glass.
He hadn’t borrowed my fire. He had replaced my life with his.
The realization shook me—rage, grief, disbelief colliding until I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at his shirt, sobbing, shaking him as if I could wake him through sheer stubbornness.
“What have you done?” I barked through my sobs. “Damn you, Malakai. Why? I never asked for this, I never asked you to do this!”
But he had.
He had fought harder than any of us.
And I, his bargain, his tether, had been the weapon he chose to wield last.
“This willunravel us,” I whispered.
A cry escaped me, raw and broken. I folded over him, the warmth of my tears vanishing as soon as they touched his cooling skin. Every thread of my magic ached for him, called for him, but there was nothing left to reach.
“Take it back!” I screamed, pulling at his shirt. “Take all of it, I don’t care! As long as… As long as you come back.”
Arms came around me from behind, strong, shaking, familiar. Lionel pulled me back against his chest, his voice cracking near my ear.
