“Keep your eyes down,” Elyssara whispers.
Kael casts them down.
“They’re still dark, my love,” she says tightly.
And he can’t help but think: maybe his soul is too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Loyalty cannot be compelled
Obedience kneels where fear is held
The blade is colderthan Seren expects. Cold and decisive.A single bead wells, rich, perfect, unmistakably hers… and drops.
It falls into The Widow’s Waters.
“Remember,” Lara murmurs, “The Dreaded will be your first priority or your last breath. You must answer the question, witch. What will you sacrifice to stand among us?”
Seren sucks in a sharp breath, ribs still screaming. But the words land in her mind softly. They don’t feel as much like a threat as they should. They feel like a game. No—a riddle.
Yes, a riddle she will solve.
The surface does not ripple.
It opens.
The pool deepens, darkening from black glass to something older, thicker—like ink poured into memory. The air tightens. The Perils holds its breath. Even the bones at the mouth fall silent. Candles gutter as the waters begin to move. A breezepicks up through the cave, and the witches surrounding her are unmoving as their hair whips wildly. But Seren’s attention does not stay on The Dreaded as figures rise slowly from the waters, as if drawn upward by a tide that knows their names.
Familiar.
Close.
Seren’s heart stutters as faces break the black glass surface.
Teddy.
Elyssara.
Ronyn.
Revryn.
People she knows.
People she loves.
The shape of their shoulders. The cadence of their breath. The way Ronyn’s mouth tilts after he’s said something inappropriate. The way Elyssara’s eyes gleam with defiance. The way Teddy stares at her like she’s a gift. The way Revryn always stands half a step in front of her—protective.
Her friends.
Her family.
Alive. Whole. Here.
But their faces shift. Wide-eyed and violent. They do not look at Seren. They lookthroughher to the witches beyond.
Their blades are drawn, mouths twisted in snarls so wicked Seren flinches.
