Page 94 of She Who Holds My Wrath

“And guide them,” Elyistria adds. “Daisy will need your mind. Korithax will need your stability.”

Maelkar smirks, thumping me on the arm. “And I need someone to keep me entertained, so don’t you dare curl up and die on me now.”

I huff out the ghost of a laugh, pushing his arm back. They’re right, and I hate that they’re right. She died for a reason. She sacrificed herself for a reason. I can’t sit here and wallow in self-pity when people need me. She needs me to continue the legacy we were set out to do by Saevyn. Only now, I’m doing it alone.

Sariya clasps my hands in hers, her deep bronze skin shimmers with golden flecks, a beautiful contrast to my pale white. “You are not alone, Aran. Not in grief. Not in purpose.”

I nod, feeling Velentha’s last words burn through me like a second heartbeat. Live for me aeshira.

When we finally leave the war room, Maelkar falls into step beside me. “You going to be alright?” he asks.

I let out a small breath, letting my shoulders sag. Somehow, I feel like I can be honest with him. Let my broken parts show. “No.”

He smirks in response and I frown at him. “Good. Only boring people are fine after shit like this.” He shrugs.

I glance at him. “Are you?”

His smirk falters for the briefest second. “No.”

Shock ripples through me, but I don’t let it show. I didn’t expect him to allow me in. But he has, for the briefest moment. Maelkar lets me see a side I don’t think many, if any, see. That he’s struggling too.

We continue to walk in silence. And whilst we step down the long, dark hallways, I realise… I’m not entirely alone. The largest, most important part of me may no longer be here. But I know she’s watching. And I know, somehow, I’m going to make her proud. I have to make her proud.

I arrive back at my chambers and stop outside the door, my hand curling around the knob, but unable to turn it. Fear roots me in place. I rest my forehead against the wood, closing my eyes as the truth settles over me like a weight too heavy to bear. The last time I slept in that room with her, I didn’t know it would be the last time I would ever hold her in my arms. I thought we were going together. I didn’t realise I would be here… alone.

I push the door open slowly and my eyes instantly land on the crumpled bedding. When I’d awoken and noticed she wasn’t there, I moved so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. I’d gotten dressed and sprinted down the hallway looking for everybody. As soon as I’d opened that door and saw Korithax, I knew. He didn’t even have to say anything. I knew what she’d done. And for the first time in centuries, there was no sound in my mind. No thoughts. Just the hollow ringing of a man who had lost the last piece of himself.

I walk towards the bed, running my fingers slowly along Velentha’s side. If only I’d have known. I would’ve held her tighter, told her I loved her a thousand times over. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I should’ve stayed awake until she was ready to go.

My knees hit the floor as I fall into a broken sob, burying my face in the sheets where she laid just hours ago. My aeshira. My love. My everything. Gone. She deserved so much more than what life had given her. She deserved to be free from those monsters. We deserved more time, more love, more laughter, more life. We deserved to go and be free and travel the universe together.

She always spoke about how much she loved Sariya’s realm, and I had promised her that when all of this was over, I would take her there. When I had witnessed Korithax and Daisy’s wedding, I knew I wanted to have the same with Velentha. She was already my wife, but she deserved that kind of wedding, and not the rushed service we had in a time of fear and desperation.

But now, I’ll never have that. I’ll never get to see her walking down the aisle in a beautiful realm, surrounded by golden sun, wildflowers, and everybody I love.

I knew when I agreed to Saevyn’s plan of ensuring her son took down the Divine Six, that life would be difficult. But never did I imagine such a large scale of heartbreak and loss. Never did I think I would fall in love with the woman burdened with the same task as me. And never did I think the same woman would sacrifice herself to bring back the man that became like family to me. But that’s just it, isn’t it? You never know what war will bring.

I was young, back then. Twenty-thousand years ago when Saevyn named me her newest second-in-command, I was just eighteen-thousand years old—barely a man. I should’ve ran the other way when she asked me to come protect the boy she was about to birth. But she was my queen, and I wanted so desperately to be someone she could be proud of.

And now? Korithax is back. Daisy is broken, and I think it’s beyond the point of repair. Velentha is gone. And I… I have a promise to keep. To Saevyn… To Velentha.

I stand and straighten my spine, gripping Velentha’s letter tightly in my pocket, and take a long, deep inhale. “I’ll make you proud,” I whisper.

Chapter 34

KORITHAX

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

Dying feels nothing like I expected.

There’s no flare of agony at first. Instead, it’s just an impossible, crushing weight that forces the air from my lungs as Calrix’s blade punches through my gut. The way it slid through my armour, the way he ripped it free; it instantly had me dropping to my knees. The way it felt all wrong. The first thought was, I shouldn’t be on my knees. The only person I ever get on my knees for is her. But my body knows. It knows that something is so very fucking wrong.

But nothing is more wrong than the way Daisy screams. The way the sound rips the world open. I feel it more than I hear it—a raw, broken tear through the bond that hits something inside me far deeper than any blade ever could. My vision blurs and all I see are flashes—her golden hair, her white flame flaring, her mouth forming my name⁠—

“Korithax—”

I expected death to be silent. Instead, it’s screaming. Not sound. Not voices. Magic. A roar of power that’s cold, endless, and ravenous. It drags me down, down, down, swallowing the scene around me, swallowing Daisy, swallowing Hell itself. There’s no up or down, no body, no breath—just a churning vortex of shadows that strip away everything that makes me me. My name, history, flesh. All torn away in jagged strips.