Page 158 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“There’s something behind that wall,” I explained. “It’s calling to me, like the lighthouse and portal did. It’s blocked.”

“Sweetheart,” Everett said. “Remember how I said you and your brother both like to stab or fire-breathe your way out of things?”

I pursed my lips. “Maybe.”

His mouth twitched. “Perhaps we should try another way before you destroy the cave and kill us.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lightbringer,” Tessa said, drawing out the word. “Maybe you should bring the light.”

I stared at her. Bring the light. The glowing stones from that one enchantment had responded to my fire. Maybe she was on to something.

I turned toward the wall and shifted my wings, watching fire dance off the tips. Raising my arms, I sent a wave of flames pouring over the rock.

At first, nothing happened. But as the light billowed against the wall, the rock began to change. It started at the edge first, a faint glow in the stone, spreading outward in thin cracks. The surface darkened, then turned red, like embers in a fire. Slowly, the solid wall became translucent. A low groan sounded from inside, and at the very center, the wall peeled away from itself, smoking like parchment that caught fire.

Before us stood a brand new room. A stone platform was in the center, with a single, glowing altar on top. Symbols with overlapping loops and swirls were etched into the surface.

“This is it,” I breathed out. I could feel the ancient magic. It thrummed around me, pulsing in time to my own heartbeat. The pull was so strong, I couldn’t stop my feet from taking a step up the platform.

But then I paused.

Anxiety curled in my gut. I turned back to them one last time, and I found Tessa. Her jaw was set in determination, but her eyes were heavy with grief. This woman had crossed oceans for her friends’ happiness. For my happiness. She was the best friend I could’ve ever hoped for both my brother and Everett, and if this was where my journey ended, at least I knew she’d keep taking care of them. I gave her a quick nod, and she returned it, throat bobbing.

Then my gaze fell to Everett. To those immovable gray and green eyes.

His brows knit together. “Vera, what⁠—”

I stumbled off the platform, took his face in both hands, and crushed my lips to his. I threw everything I couldn’t say into the kiss. His hands came up to grip my arms, and I felt him go still for half a second before he kissed me back, his fingers tightening and pulling me closer.

When I leaned back, his eyes were still closed. “Everett,” I panted, struggling to stay steady. “You have to know that you’re the reason I survived it. All of it. Every single day of the last seven years, it was you.” I pressed my forehead to his, needing him to feel the truth. “No matter what happens, just know that I love you, Swift. More than you could possibly know.”

His lips parted. “Why does that sound like a goodbye?”

I didn’t answer.

“Vera.” His voice cracked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“The originals died,” I whispered. “Forging the amulets. The sacrifice was too much for them.” I watched his face change, watched him understand what I meant, and made myself hold his gaze. “I don’t know if the same thing will happen to me. It might not. But I needed you to know before⁠—”

“No,” he growled, gripping my waist.

“Everett—”

“No.” His eyes were bright and terrified and furious all at once. “You don’t get to tell me that, and then turn around and⁠—”

“You have to let me,” I urged, breath hitching. “You know you have to let me. Odessa, you, the infection, everyone in this kingdom, everyone the Elders could still hurt—you know there’s no other way. We have to get that amulet.”

“Then let me do it. Let me go with you.”

“It has to be me, Everett,” I said softly. “It’s my blood, my fate.”

He worked his jaw. I could see the war taking place in his mind, his analytical side that knew I was right versus the emotional Swift who had watched me through a hole in the wall. He looked at me the way he did back then. As if I was a fixed point in a world that kept spinning and spitting us back out.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me again,” he rasped.

Tears filled my eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry, Swift. I⁠—”