If I hadn’t seen my own fire mirrored in the eyes of someone more afraid than me—someone Ihadto save.
If a stubborn camel hadn’t led me through the heart of the storm.
I rise. Kel reaches to steady me, but I shake him off. My legs are trembling, hands soaked with dirt and blood. I stare down at the briars,mybriars, wilting, crumbling…dead.
“Yes. My thorns are gone.” My voice breaks. “They were never mine. Only a gift.”
Then I lift my chin.
“But shadows…” I whisper. “Shadows are in my blood.”
The air shivers. Something deep inside me stirs to life after nearly being ripped away. I raise my hand, fingers trembling, and call the shadows to me.
They answer.
Gods, they answer too well.
They pour through me like fire made smoke, searing up my spine and down my arms, veins alight with darkness.
The blade against Rosalina’s throat dissolves into mist.
Sira screams as black tendrils surge from the shattered stones, thick as ropes. They lash around her wrists, her arms, herwaist. She thrashes violently, teeth bared, spitting curses that curdle the air. But I don’t flinch.
My knees nearly buckle. My vision swims. Sweat beads along my brow, soaking into my tangled hair. My chest heaves like I’ve run a hundred miles.
She’s fighting me.
I feel the moment her will strikes mine. Her rage tears into my magic, trying to reclaim it. To bend it back. The shadows hesitate, pulled in two directions—mother or son, creator or heir. I grit my teeth and shove harder. I cannot let her win. Not again.
Not when Rosalina is still in her grip.
I only have seconds. Just seconds before Sira rips through the magic and takes it back. She’s older. Stronger. She shaped these shadows long before I ever touched them. The only reason I’m holding her at all is because she didn’t expect me to fight.
Or because I’m fighting for her.
For my mate.
What are you fighting for, Mother?
Power? Control? Love will always prevail. Rosalina showed me that. And I will not let her down.
I wish I could hold Sira long enough for one of the others to strike. But I won’t last. My magic is weakened, frayed from the spell that nearly made me human. I can barely keep the shadows from collapsing in on themselves, let alone attack.
The only thing that matters now is getting Rosalina free.
If Sira drags her down to the Below, I don’t know how we’ll ever get her back.
So I hold.
Every muscle in my body shakes as I anchor the shadows around my mother. My vision blurs at the edges. Blood drips from my nose. But I don’t stop.
If I fall, I’m taking Sira with me.
In a rush of darkness and wind, Rosalina breaks free and stumbles away from the shadows.
“Farewell, Mother,” I whisper.
My shadows drag her under, into an abyss of my making.
