“And me,” Jax says, stepping forward without hesitation. Ronyn’s eyes meet hers, and understanding passes between them. He raises his eyebrows at her.
“I already have a black heart, how much worse could it be?” she mutters, and Ronyn huffs a laugh.
Seren moves next. “I’ll take some.”
A sob slips from Elyssara’s throat. “And me.”
She nods.
“Do it.”
Elyssara and her Fallen gather around Kael, bodies broken, hearts split in two, and a world on fire around them. And they give more.
Not because they are unafraid, but because they have already chosen each other. No hesitation. No bargaining. Just choice.
“We share it,” Ronyn says, nodding like it’s obvious. Because it’s the way he does everything—connected.Human.
Seren draws from the fractured world around her, gathering life force in her palms and transforming it into magic. Golden threads form at her fingertips, and she casts them out, each thread moving between the group.
It moves differently this time. Not tearing. Not consuming. Sharing.Connecting.
This is what power looks like when it is not hoarded. When it is given.
She casts her magic wider, golden threads slipping under Kael’s skin, drifting through blackened veins.
The Decay shifts.
It fractures.
Spreads.
Kael’s body jerks, the violence in him faltering as the weight of it is pulled from him, divided, carried by those who refuse to let him bear it alone.
A low, undeniable rumble drifts through her mind.Tarrakai.
You are worthy, Ronyn Holt.
The words are simple, clean. As if Tarrakai would never waste a syllable that wasn’t required.
Ronyn closes his eyes for a heartbeat. Two. Like he’s accepting the words. As if they have been bestowed upon him with great purpose.
Kael groans.
Elyssara moves. Stumbling in front of him, her hands shaking as she strips away the armor covering her chest.
“I’m here,” she says, reaching for him without fear, guiding his hand to her chest, pressing it there over the place where her heart beats steady and unbroken. “I’m here. I’m with you.”
His eyes flicker.
Still dark.
Still lost.
“Come back to me, my love,” she continues, her voice steadier now, stronger. “I am Elyssara Dawnmere.”
Her hand tightens over his.
“You are Kael Thorne.”
