Page 135 of Only Flames Remain

I took a deep, stabilizing breath. My hand quieted. “Then you do not know me at all, Sorin Blackwater. Mate or not, it is not my responsibility to keep your darkness away. Go. Now. Or I will make you. If I loose this arrow…I will not falter.”

His expression morphed from one of confusion to one of hurt, bleeding across his features in a way that wrenched my heart from my chest. I needed to get this out before I lost the nerve.

“You hate your father so much, but you are just like him. Two of a kind.” I swallowed hard, taking a step back from him. “Deny it all you want, but he will always live on in you.”

I stepped back again. And again.

His onyx hair was tousled, his cape whipping out behind him as if it were a second pair of wings.

“I never wanted to be your villain,” he said, gaze dropping to his hands as if he didn’t recognize them.

“But you are, Sorin. You should have thought before you destroyed everything I have ever known.” My voice was raw. “Before you placed the fated bond above your own morals—and mine. Before you waged a war that could have been prevented, simply because your emotions got the better of you.” I swallowed hard as my voice cracked. I cast my gaze across Majur and watched for one silent moment as it burned. “There is nothing here for me anymore.” My gaze snapped to his—one last time. “But there is nothing for you, either.”

I turned from him, throat swollen with emotion as I dropped the bow back to my side. I wished desperately for Enora to be at my side.

She remained across the sea, safe with Quinnick. The thought brought with it a short respite from the grief that threatened to drown me.

I carved a path through the remnants of Majur, toward clean air. South…toward Elenwyth or Lysvarin.

Sadness and anger warred equally in my chest. But I did not look back.

I could feel the bond between us now, drawing me back toward him as I left him standing among the ruins of his own hell fire.

The old gods would not choose my fate for me.

If I chose Sorin, it would be because I wanted to.

But I couldn’t want this…nobody could.

Myros had fallen. The Ashbourne royals were dead. My mother was presumably dead—her body lost among the rubble.

On summer solstice, I never imagined the prince across the sea would have the capacity to take my heart in his hands and crush it.

But he had.

All because the old gods had thought to match us, twining our fates together for all eternity.

It only took one dragon to fly to Myros to incite a war, and it only took one dragon to reduce it to ash.

As soon as Sorin was out of sight, I fell to my hands and knees.

Kneeling among the debris of a city covered in soot and embers, my heart shattered into a million pieces. I had lost everything. Innocents had their lives taken over a bond that was supposed to be a blessing.

It was more of a curse.

My gaze fixed on the burning sky as I wiped my soot-stained cheeks.

Sorin had betrayed me and everything I stood for. Everything good.

He had become the villain of my story.

And in the end…only flames remain.

EPILOGUE

Morrathil

In the wake of the destruction Sorin Blackwater wrought on the kingdom of Myros, something ancient stirs.