The fire-lit faces in the cave, circling around me.
The sword going through Wilder’s heart.
A hand appears, but it is not made of flesh and bone. It is magic. Flecks of gold remind me of the embers that spit from a fire. Its fingers reach for me, wrapping around every limb, thrusting me to my feet. I nearly fall, but I catch myself on Wilder’s bare chest.
His runes glow. His scar is a river of gold.
The space is dark again.
Empty.
But his eyes…
There’s so much brewing inside them that I’m not alone.
His magic weaves up my back and around my neck. It dances through my hair and lifts my chin. My skin tickles with his touch—his nearness.
My eyes flutter closed as his breath twines with mine. His lips so close I feel the static of a kiss before the winds pull us apart, and I plummet.
Screams and blood and death drip from my fingers. They burn at my touch. I can still feel Wilder’s hands lingering on my skin as fate weaves me into a new web. It paints me a picture of death and pain.
A fate of Alyssium turning to dust.
With a final gasp, I take another step, and I’m out of the mirror. My eyes blink open to the temple, and I return to myself. Wilder and the king are still beside me, having traveled out the other side.
I survived the blessing. I made it through.
So why did it not feel like a blessing at all?
Wilder’s arm brushes mine, and our eyes meet. I don’t know what he saw, but I’ll never forget my vision. Accepting him was the end of the realm. It was destruction. Even if his touch woke my heart.
Just like mine woke his.
Chapter 37
Elorie
The king must becontent with what he saw in the mirror because his grin is wider and his eyes are brighter than they were before stepping through it. When we walked out the other side of the pool, he pulled me close and kissed my temple before leaving. I still feel the pressure of his lips on my skin at midday as we gather to leave for Solace.
King Malachi holds Selia at his side, wearing his crown and smiling like the gods are granting his wishes. Whatever he saw in the mirror left him in an entirely different mood than me. I glance at Wilder, noticing he might be more on the same page as I am.
Wilder barely glanced at me before walking out of the temple, and that was for the best. If I’d have held his gaze, I’d have been forced to remember his magic holding me. The comfort of being in his arms. The static of our near kiss.
The death that followed.
I knew walking in that my choice was made if I wanted to save Lyrichia. But to see it in such clear terms, to feel the pain of the realm dying, has reality settling in. Especially when Wilder’s gaze meets mine, and I’m torn for an entirely different reason.
Maybe it’s the bind of the Rite that draws me to Wilder. But if that were the case, wouldn’t I feel the same connection to the king? Glancing at King Malachi, who is readying the party for our trip, I shiver. My tie to him is empty and cold in comparison.
Cyan leans closer to the king, whispering something in his ear that makes his smile falter. King Malachi has been boasting about our trip to Solace all morning, so I can’t imagine what could sour his mood that quickly. He shakes Selia off his arm and storms over to Greer.
“I wonder what that was about.” My eyebrows pinch.
Callum frowns. “Nothing good.”
I can’t tell if he heard what they were whispering about or if he’s reading their body language like I am.
“Why are we going to Solace exactly?” I ask Callum.
