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“I didn’t know you knew him,” I breathe out, careful not to meet his eyes.

“How could you?” he replies softly. “It’s not your fault. But your reputation…” A weak exhale. “It does precede you.”

“Yes,” I say. “It always will.” Regret races through me, guilt close behind. This is the life I chose for myself, the one that I refuse to break free of. A woman who cannot afford to lower her walls for even one person without the world ripping them apart.

I turn away from him, the tears threatening to spill. I swallow and lift my chin, forcing them back along with everything else. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You didn’t do this. He did.” Each word costs him, drawn between ragged breaths. Korrin was just doing his job, same as me by sending him to do it in the first place. However, Korrin took it too far. Elias is right. “If you’d have come to me first… I would have told you who I am.” He inhales sharply once, then exhales slowly again.

I move to kneel next to him again, ignoring the putrid smell of death emanating from him. “I will end it for you now,” I say quietly. Mercy, at least, I can give him. “Any last words?” I always ask this, but only now do I really care to hear the answer.

I move closer, bringing my face level with his. His lips tremble, releasing the words.

“Burn the throne.” Before I can press the dagger to his heart, his chest stills. The final breath leaves him in a thin, quiet exhale. He’s gone.

Fuck. I hang my head.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Korrin shouldn't have nearly killed him. If Korrin did what he was supposed to have done, Elias could have walked out of here with nothing more than a few scars and a memory he’d never outrun.

Instead, he was left in this room for over a week. Rotting. Broken long before I ever reached him. I stare at his still face.

I did this.

Maddoc would never forgive me, so how can I ever forgive myself for this? Elias is on his way now, to that place where souls go. He’ll stand beside Maddoc and tell him what I’ve become. How I’ve spent the second chance I was given.

And Roman… Roman will not forgive this either. Not with the way he protects his rebellion. I killed someone tied to his cause, someone tied to the king who could have been leveraged. I silenced a player in the revolution.

This death doesn’t just take a life. It draws a line. More than that, it draws a target on my back and on the backs of everyone at the Slayers Academy. It began the moment Korrin forgot restraint and it ended with me. I lift a hand and gently close Elias’s eyes myself.

Chapter twenty-five

Bow or Bleed

I leave Elias’s body in the cell behind me. A male slayer stands guard in the corridor, hood drawn low, silent and unmoving beneath the dim torchlight. Anger tears through me, something feral dragging its claws up the length of my spine.

I stop in front of the guard without meeting his eyes. “Do not let anyone else into these cells without my order,” I say, my voice level despite the wildfire burning through my veins. “The others are not to be touched. The one in the room I just left—see that he is handled with respect.” This is not a request. He nods once, already understanding the cost of failing my command.

I pull my hood over my head and turn toward the stairs to find Korrin. He does not get to torture relentlessly simply because someone is chained. That makes him no better than the king with his captured creatures.

Things will not be run the way Silas ran them, blind executions, cruelty for cruelty’s sake, blood spilled without reason. That era is over. This academy will be ruled with intent, with authority, and with purpose.

I step into the main common area where nearly all the slayers linger during the day. All conversation dies the moment I cross the threshold. I scan the room slowly, finding Korrin on the far side.

I make no effort to hide the storm in my eyes as I walk straight toward him. He sets his freshly poured coffee down and draws his blade.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath cuts cleanly through the silence. I tilt my head, incredulous at the audacity. “Korrin,” I say, my voice low, sharpened with fury, “you really must have a death wish to draw a blade on me.”

My hands move without haste as I reach for the two daggers at my sides. I hold them loosely, their points angled toward the floor as I square my shoulders. Every breath in the room is held. Korrin has been here long enough that people hate him for what he’s done to them, infesting their nightmares with the sounds of torture.

To me, he’s disposable. After all, I managed to get answers from Elias myself. What do I need him for? I wait for him to speak, but he only straightens, lifting his blade in front of himself as if that sad strip of steel might somehow stop me. He’s hardly a worthy opponent.

“I draw a weapon whenever anyone steps up to me the way you just did,” he counters.

A mocking laugh bursts free from my chest. “If you think you have any ground to stand on right now, you don’t. Put the weapon down.” A direct order from his superior. He lowers it a fraction, then hesitates before bringing it back up.

I arch a brow. “I don’t take well to threats,” I add. This time, he lowers the blade, though he keeps it in his hand at his side, knuckles tight around the hilt.

“You went too far with the interrogation,” I say.