Chapter 75
“ I t’s true... Blessed Kindred, look at her Crown—she has four of them now.”
“We have to kill her, or she’ll kill us and take ours, too.”
“Doriel, what now? What do we do?”
“I... I don’t know...”
“Fuck this. I’m going back to my realm.”
The Crowns were shouting, arguing, clumping in groups, snapping out threats.
None of them dared to come near me.
I struggled to push upright through the drumbeat in my ears and the smothering weight on my head.
“Call the army in now, Sophos. Arrest her. Hurry, before she kills again.”
“ You’re the one who killed Umbros, you ass.”
“Sophos can’t arrest her now. She just claimed the sixth vote. She and her mother are pardoned.”
My eyes flew open.
Pardoned.
We were pardoned. We were free .
Unless my mother or I committed another crime on this island, the Crowns couldn’t hold me. My mother and I could take Teller and go home. We could be together as a family, mourn my father, and begin to pick up the pieces of our lives without him.
I could rule my realms in peace—and take control of the Emarion Army.
My chest shook as delirious laughter bubbled out. The other Crowns fell silent.
“You fucking traitors,” I choked out between uncontrollable giggles. “You Kindred-cursed pieces of shit.” I snorted loudly. “You absolute rancid, stinking prunes .”
“I think all those Crowns have made her go mad,” someone murmured.
I stood and wiped the tears streaming from my eyes. “Even your own gods know you’re worthless. I got half his realm killed, and Umbros still thought I was a better candidate than—” I grabbed my side and doubled over into more laughter before I could finish.
“Let’s retake the vote,” Ignios insisted. “Sophos, Meros—one of you needs to change your decision.” He raised his blade, Yrselle’s blood still dripping from its edge. “Do it or else.”
“Or else what, you’ll kill us and give her a fifth Crown to vote with?” Meros snapped. “Try it, and I’ll make sure she gets your Crown next, Ignios.”
“Don’t worry, Yrselle already took care of that,” I said, tapping my wrist with a wink.
Ignios looked at my arm and frowned, his head tilting to and fro like a dog staring in a mirror. When his eyes dropped to the beads of blood on his own wrist and finally bulged in understanding, I burst out in laughter again.
He stormed to Yrselle’s corpse and grabbed her hand, squinting close at her nails—then let out a shriek. “She scratched me with fucking godstone! ”
I grinned. “She sure knew how to give one hell of a coronation gift.” I rolled my neck to adjust to the added weight of the Umbros Crown, then grabbed my fallen blade. My eyes ticked to the cauldron above the Umbros arch, now relit with midnight flame.
Four Crowns—soon to be five, once the godstone did its work on Ignios. If I claimed one more, I would control every vote.
The temptation was staggering .
The bloodlust must have been screaming on my face, because even the confident Faunos Queen quietly edged away.
“I’m going to die,” Ignios wailed. “That bitch killed me!” He scraped frantically at his wrist. “Someone cut my arm off—quick, before it gets to my heart.”
“I’ll do it,” I chirped. And my blade might slip and slice your throat in the process .
He was so desperate, he actually started to walk toward me.
“Stop, Ignios, before you get yourself killed,” Doriel muttered, their eyes rolling high. “Come to my realm after the ritual. My researchers have a cure.”
His orange eyes bulged. “They do?”
I frowned. “They do? ”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Meros asked softly, a small crease forming on his brow.
“It’s new,” Doriel rushed out. “We didn’t know it worked until the battle. When we tried it on the wounded, it stopped the toxin on every last one.”
I fell still. “All of them? They all recovered?”
Ignios cackled loudly. “Hear that, Umbros?” He slammed his sandaled foot into Yrselle’s corpse.
“Stop it,” I hissed, feeling a sudden, strange new protectiveness over her body.
He turned to me and flashed a toothy grin, bright like pearls against his ruddy, sun-darkened skin. He held my stare as his foot connected with Yrselle’s lovely, lifeless face.
Fury scorched the inside of my skin. “You know what? Fuck your coronation. Let the Forging spell rot. Let all your borders fall. I don’t care.” I snapped on my heel to storm from the Temple.
“Diem,” Doriel said with a tone of warning. “You’re going to want to stay.”
“Go freeze in the glaciers of hell, Doriel. I’m getting my Prince, and we’re going h—”
“ Diem! ”
I stilled mid-step.
That voice... gods , please, not that voice.
“I was worried something like this might happen,” Doriel said. “I brought someone along to ensure your cooperation.”
My head turned, and there he was—two brown eyes and a splash of auburn hair.
Flanked by a host of army soldiers with a blade pressed to his neck.
“Teller!” I screamed. “Don’t you touch him. Don’t you fucking touch him! ”
“They won’t. Not as long as you do as I say.”
My temper exploded behind my eyes in a scarlet mist of blood and brimstone. If I’d had access to my magic, I would have razed the Temple to dust. I would have razed the whole damn island to dust.
“I’m going to destroy you,” I seethed, stalking toward Doriel. “I’m going to make you—”
“Diem,” Teller cried out again, his voice—that familiar, most beloved voice—now shrill with pain.
I jerked to a stop and looked out to see him on his knees, a rivulet of blood trickling down his neck.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t take one more step,” Doriel warned. “They’ve been ordered to kill him if you get within striking range of any Crown.”
I lurched backward into the Lumnos arch, staring in horror at my bleeding brother, unable to look away.
He hadn’t come easily. The two guards who held him had blood on their uniforms and still-healing bruises on their faces.
And so did Teller.
The sight of it set me ablaze.
“You have no idea the mistake you’ve just made,” I whispered in a voice hushed but unstoppably destructive, like a loosed arrow whistling toward its mark.
“I have people to protect, and I’ll use whatever means I have available to protect them. Don’t deny that you would do the same.”
My jaw ground tight. “Your people will die for this.”
“Is that a threat?” they hissed.
“It’s a fact . Ophiucae will strike again, and by the time you realize you need me, it will be too late.”
“Well I’ll know where to find you,” they muttered. They glanced at the sunset. “We need to hurry, we’re running out of time.”
My instincts prickled. “Time for what?”
Doriel ignored me and turned their attention to the others. “My fellow Crowns, I also bring a proposal for a vote. Something that has not been done since the days of the Blessed Kindred. Rather than merely refreshing the Forging spell for the coronation... I propose we revise it.”
Ignios grunted. “If you say you want to give yourself control of her realms, Sophos...”
“Not at all. My proposal is for this island. We must secure this Temple from rebel control.”
“You can do that by working with me and my mother,” I snapped.
“Even if we trusted you, your mother won’t lead the Guardians forever. She’s a mortal, and an older one at that. She’ll be dead before we know it.”
I flinched at the reminder.
“We need a permanent solution, and luckily, the Blessed Kindred provided us one.” Doriel pointed to the glassy rock on the pedestal at the Temple’s center. “I’ve been researching everything the Kindred wrote on the Forging spell. In it, they built wards around the heartstone to protect it from harm.”
“So much for that,” I mumbled.
Their eyes flashed to me in subtle warning. Explaining why my blood cracked the heartstone would reveal the truth about Omnos. Tempting as it was to betray Doriel in retribution, I held my tongue. Disclosing my heritage now would do me more harm than good.
“I propose we enhance those protections,” they went on. “We take the heartstone’s existing defenses, and we expand them to kill any person who steps foot on Coeur?le without a Crown.”
“We can do that?” Faunos asked.
They nodded. “The magic that protects the heartstone is already deadly. We’re simply unleashing it to its full extent.”
“If the Blessed Kindred approved of that, wouldn’t they have done it themselves?” Arboros asked. I found myself nodding in agreement, then wondering when I started caring what the Kindred approved of.
“They gave us the power to modify the Forging spell as long as we act unanimously. They wouldn’t have done that if they didn’t trust us to use it.”
Faunos groaned. “I’ll agree to whatever you want, if it will get this over with.”
Doriel looked to Ignios, who smirked eagerly, then to Arboros, who looked pained as she lowered her eyes and nodded. They exchanged a quick look with Meros, then approached the heartstone and pulled out the ritual dagger.
It wasn’t lost on me that no one confirmed my vote. The implication was clear—I would agree, or my brother would pay the price.
As Doriel shed their blood and began reciting the ritual’s script, my eyes skimmed the island and paused on the Guardians being held back by the patrolling gryverns.
“There are people on the island now,” I blurted out, stopping Doriel’s speech. “Won’t they all die if we cast this spell?”
“They’ll have until sunset to leave.”
“ Sunset? Doriel, the sun’s nearly gone now. That’s not enough time!”
“Then you should stop interrupting me.”
“The Guardians don’t even have boats docked. They need at least a few days to send hawks.”
“There are army vessels at the Fortos port. If the rebels give up peacefully, they’ll be given safe passage to the prison.”
“That’s not—”
“ Back to the ritual ,” they said archly with a discussion-ending glare. “As I was saying...”
Bile rose in my throat. I’d walked the mortals straight into a trap. Either certain death on the island, or torture and imprisonment on the continent.
A throat softly cleared to my right.
My gaze lifted and met two sad emerald eyes. They darted to the Guardians, then cut over her slender shoulder—toward the Arboros port.
I didn’t dare show any reaction, but a gasp of relief left my lips at her offer. If I could get the rebels to the Arboros port, its Queen would get them to land.
“With this spell,” Doriel began, “we bind Diem Bellator to this island. May she never again leave these shores.”
A heavy clang resounded in my skull at the weight of those words, at their inescapable finality. There were no loopholes, no exceptions. There would be no rescue.
I was trapped.
Just like Ophiucae all those years ago.
“Furthermore,” Doriel continued, “from the setting of this day’s sun, may the heartstone strike dead any person who sets foot on this island, or any beast who flies over its borders, except for the nine Crowns of Emarion.”
“You’re even banning the gryverns?” I said bitterly.
“Well we can’t have yours attacking us when we come to the island for rituals, can we?”
“Right,” I muttered, looking up. “Only you and Meros get to do that.”
Their jaw twitched, but they didn’t respond.
I stared out at my brother through the wall of flames from the two circling gryverns, wishing with all my heart that I could push my thoughts into his head. An apology— so many apologies. A promise to make this right somehow. And a plea for him to fight. To survive.
One by one, each Crown stepped forward to shed their blood, and I threw every ember of my hatred into my glare. I refused to look away from the uncertain resignation of Meros, the forlorn shame of Arboros, the jaded indifference of Faunos. Only Ignios would look me in the eyes, and only because he reveled in my fury.
When my turn arrived, Doriel laid down the ritual dagger on the pedestal and stepped out of my reach. I curled my upper lip and picked it up, but as I brought the blade to my palm, my body felt as if it were fighting against itself. My hands quivered, refusing to press the edge to flesh.
“The spell only works if the blood is given willingly,” Doriel reminded me. “If you can’t convince yourself you want to do this—”
“Then you’ll torture my innocent brother, a subject of your realm, who you vowed to protect?” I gritted out. “Yes, I’m aware.”
They shifted on their feet, unable to meet my eyes. “We’ll need your brother to ensure your cooperation for future rituals, so keeping him safe will be my highest priority. He can do whatever he pleases in my realm. Full access. I’ll even put him on the selection committee for mortals invited to study, so he can address the inequities you spoke of. I’ll make sure his every need is taken care of.”
“How very generous. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled with his golden shackles.”
They sighed. “I take no pleasure in this, Diem. I am genuinely grateful for what you did in my realm. Once Ophiucae is dead and your magic is lost to the bargain, we’ll recast the spell and let you go.”
“Ignios will never agree to release me.”
They dropped their voice. “Then we’ll get a new Ignios who will.”
Our gazes met. I looked for some sign of doubt in their eyes, but there was only the firm resolve of a ruler who believed this was the only way to save their realm.
Maybe this was for the best. I didn’t want to kill Ophiucae—at least now, I wouldn’t have to. And if my magic was gone, my enemies would lose their interest. My family would be safe. Luther and I could have our quiet life of irrelevance.
Isn’t that what I claimed to want, to run away and leave all my problems behind?
A deep, sorrowful ache settled in my chest.
I sliced my palm before the regret could spread any further. The stones on the ritual dagger flashed a steely grey, but this time, there was no thunder, no earthquake, only the hiss of bubbling blood as it fell and melted into the stone.
A glowing orb built within the heartstone’s center, illuminating its jagged, glassy peaks. A blinding pulse of light shot out in a ring and rippled over the planes of the island. My body flushed with energy as it passed over me, binding me to my fate.
“The spell is cast,” Doriel announced.
I tossed the bloody dagger at their feet. “Now get my brother off this island.”
“Not until you’re in the cell.”
“Doriel,” I snarled.
“ In the cell , Diem.”
I looked out at the dark doorway in the brush. My throat squeezed shut, my lungs clawing for breath. A sudden overwhelming terror seemed to trap me, bury me, suffocate me in open air.
That cell had destroyed Ophiucae. It had turned his heart cold and gnawed at his soul until there was nothing left of it but a thirst for revenge.
And it would do the same to me. I could feel it—the hate that would fester in that lonely, unrelenting darkness.
The monster I would become.
“No,” I breathed. I was ashamed of the whimper that shuddered out and the tremble that overtook me, but I was powerless to stop either. “I—I won’t. I can’t.”
“Diem, you—”
“I don’t want to become like him, Doriel. Please. Please .”
Their glare broke, a glint of understanding in their eyes. They stole a look at the thin orange sliver of the setting sun. “You will stay in this Temple until everyone is off the island. If you don’t—”
I nodded frantically. “My brother, I know.”
“Give me your weapon.”
Shit . I would need that to hunt for food and build a shelter.
And to kill the other Crowns the second they came back to the island.
But more than that, I needed Teller to live.
I grabbed my dagger and threw it to the ground, then scrambled backward with my hands raised and a nervous eye on my brother’s guards.
Doriel grabbed the two blades and rushed out of the Temple. They set off in a run down the path toward their dock, their gryvern flying overhead and spraying flames to keep the rebels away. Their guards fell in behind them and dragged my kicking, screaming brother in their wake.
I heard a piercing whistle, and the wall of soldiers around the island began to retreat. The other Crowns had already fled for their boats, and the Meros gryvern was no longer in sight.
I ran to the edge of the dais. “Run!” I yelled at the Guardians. “You’re all in danger. You have to get off the island before the sun sets.”
They stared at each other, at me, at the sun, at the receding army, unsure what to believe. A few began to walk toward me, while others stubbornly held their ground.
“Head south,” I shouted, pointing for the Arboros port. “If you stay here, you’ll die— hurry! ”
Slowly, they started for the southern coast. My heart thrashed at their tentative pace, too oblivious to the invisible threat chasing them, but my attention was stolen by sounds drifting from deep within the brush—grunts, shouting, and the clash of metal-on-metal.
I squinted into the horizon, and my body locked up. Near the path to the Sophos port, the tall grass was shaking—not the slow sway of the evening breeze, but a violent disturbance that could only be man-made.
Icy fingers slithered over my skin.
Seconds later, my fears became cruelly well-founded. The grass parted, and three men broke free.
Three familiar men.
A shrill, desperate “ No! ” tore out of my throat.
Teller, Luther, and Perthe sprinted toward me at a furious pace, with Doriel and their guards in hot pursuit.
“Stop!” I screamed. I shook my head and pointed for the shore. “Go back—leave me, get off the island!”
Uncertainty passed over Teller’s features. His pace slowed, but Luther was a man determined, and nothing would turn him from me.
My eyes shot to Doriel in the distance. They looked at my brother, then the sun, then their guards. They stopped running, and their gaze met mine. A heart-stopping apology settled on their face.
“Doriel, no ,” I screamed, a burning stinging at my eyes.
It wasn’t enough. Doriel barked something at their guards, and they turned as a group, running for the Sophos port instead.
I flew down the Temple steps and crashed into Luther’s approaching arms. His eyes were wilder than I’d ever seen them. He gripped my face in his palms, swiping away the wetness on my cheeks. “You’re safe, my heart. I’m here.”
“No—Luther, you have to go. The Crowns cast a spell that will kill anyone on the island once the sun sets.” I tried to shove him off, but he held me firm. “Luther, please. Take Teller and run.”
“Understood. Let’s go.” He reached to grab my hand to take me with him.
I jerked away.
He fell deathly still. “You’re coming with us.”
To anyone else, the growling command would seem absolute in its resolve—but I heard the fearful question that trembled underneath.
I shook my head in despair. “The spell...”
His expression hardened. “I’m not leaving you behind. If you’re dying here, I’m dying at your side.”
“I won’t die, but you three will. You have to leave, Luther, time is running out.”
“Diem—”
“ Leave ,” I shrieked. I pounded my fists at his chest in an urgent frenzy. “If you love me, stop talking and run . Take my brother and—”
My eyes snagged on a flicker of darkness over the swaying grass, then shot to the splinter of red-orange that had nearly vanished in the sky. There were minutes left at most—maybe only seconds. The Lumnos port was at least a twenty minute walk, the Sophos port even further. Even if they ran...
Too late.
They weren’t going to make it.
Luther caught me as my knees crumpled. “It’s alright,” he soothed. “We’ll leave now.”
“It’s too late,” I gasped, tears in freefall down my face.
I’m too late .
Everything shattered inside of me.
My most loyal guard, my baby brother, the man I loved—I was going to lose them all. They were going to die right here in front of my eyes.
All because I was too damn late.
A rift cracked through the center of my soul. It split me open with the same explosive destruction as my falling blood when it fractured the heartstone.
I no longer feared the cold, heartless monster Ophiucae had become—I welcomed it. I would embrace it with hateful glee. I would devour the world whole for all that they had taken from me. I would become a thing of vengeance and spite, I would—
Thump, thump, thump.
Luther’s hand tightened on my arm.
“Blessed Kindred,” he breathed.
I straightened. “Is that...?”
His eyes slid to the west, then grew wide at the sight of Sorae’s outline on the horizon. “It worked. It actually worked. I didn’t think...”
“ What worked?”
He gazed at me, his features strained, like he was holding something back. Something desperately, painfully important.
“It doesn’t matter,” I cut in. “Go—run as fast as you can. And don’t come back. The spell will kill her too if she returns after sunset.”
He grabbed my jaw and crushed his lips to mine. “Stay strong, my Queen. No force in the world will keep me from you forever.”
I wanted so badly to pour out the full truth of my love for him, but there were not enough words, and so very little time. I pushed him off, then looked at my brother. “Go get Mother, Tel. Then go get your girl.”
His jaw flexed. “Love you, D.”
I looked at Perthe. “Get my brother on that gryvern.”
He nodded. “I will, Your Majesty.”
I forced myself to turn my back to them, knowing one more word, one more look , could cost me everything. The cadence of their fading bootsteps and the howling cry of an approaching gryvern was the most beautiful music to my ears.
Sorae had come. She had known I needed her, and she had broken free of Remis’s chains to get to me. It seemed utterly impossible—even if our bond had somehow overcome the island’s effects, the flight from Lumnos would have taken at least an hour or two. I hadn’t even known I was in danger for that long.
Wait. If she’d come to save me ...
I whipped back around, and my heart plunged as my terror was confirmed. Sorae was spearing through the air—but her eyes were on me.
Only on me.
“Sorae, no!” I shouted.
Her talons opened wide in preparation to snatch me from the ground. I ran back up the steps to the Temple and cowered inside the Lumnos arch where she couldn’t get to me. I tried to send a command through the bond, but it was suffocated by the island’s oppressive force.
“Save them!” I yelled at her loud enough to bleed my throat raw. “Leave me—take them! ”
Her golden eyes filled with conflict as her sensitive hearing picked up on my words.
“Save them, Sorae. That’s an order! ”
I could see on her face that her heart was still torn, but her body was helpless to disobey. Her wings tilted down, and her path shifted.
My heart stopped beating.
If she touched the soil, she would die.
If she missed them, they would die.
If she didn’t get off the island in the next few seconds, they all would die.
The dark monster of vengeance waited in the wings as my fate played out on stage before my eyes.
The three men sprinted toward my gryvern, whose legs trailed dangerously close to the ground. Perthe turned his head and yelled something at Luther, who nodded. Suddenly, they grabbed my brother and launched him into the air—right into Sorae’s outstretched talon, which closed tight around his waist.
Teller reached his arms down. One hand clutched fast to Perthe’s wrist. The other...
Luther’s fingers hooked to my brother’s, but the grip was flimsy and weak. Sorae was moving too fast, Luther too slow. He began to slip.
He was going to die.
My Prince. My heart .
The man who’d sworn to be my equal partner in all things, who had seen me for all that I was, my light and my darkness, and not only accepted me, but cherished me. Loved me.
The man I’d given myself to, wholly and unconditionally. The man I wanted to spend my forever with. The man I wanted as my mate.
And now I’d never get the chance.
I cried out a broken, anguished sound as Teller’s fingers slipped, and my Prince dropped from his grasp.
He was falling. Dying .
And then Teller’s hand released from Perthe’s wrist—and closed around Luther’s.
Sorae banked up into the sky, my brother in her talon, my heart dangling from his grip.
Perthe crashed to the soil, somehow managing to stay on his feet. He staggered forward with the momentum, then slowed to a walk, then stopped.
His shoulders slowly rose and fell.
He turned to face me. Lifted his chin. Placed his fist over his chest, then sank to one knee.
Tears flowed down my face in rapids. I pressed my fist to my chest and lowered my head in a final salute to my faithful guard.
The last ray of sunlight vanished over the horizon. Another pulse of light shot from the heartstone across the island, and Perthe’s body slumped to the ground.
In the distance, my gryvern kept flying.
I sank to my knees and buried my face in my hands, overcome by bittersweet sorrow and joy, liberating relief and crushing loss.
Teller had sacrificed Perthe to save Luther, perhaps as much for Lily’s benefit as mine.
Oh, how that choice would weigh on him. How the guilt and second-guessing would chase him through dark thoughts, haunting him as surely as it would haunt me.
Sorae swooped in wide circles outside the island, seeming unable to tear herself from my sight. Or perhaps it was a final kindness, so I could watch as Teller and Luther climbed up her side and mounted her back.
They were safe. I dragged breath into my lungs and tried to find some shred of solace in that. My brother was alive and safe and out of Doriel’s hands. Luther would help him find my mother, and they could finally go home.
And Luther was alive. The future we’d planned was not yet lost—its flame still glowed, lost in the shadows but burning strong. I had committed myself to him, to us , and now that I knew he was out there fighting to get to me, I would fight just as hard to find my way back to him.
And when I did, I’d tell him everything. I’d tell him that I was his and he was mine, now and always. I would tell him I wanted to be bound with him forever, in whatever life we could make in this world, and in eternity thereafter.
The very first chance I got, I would offer up my blood and tell him I was ready to be his ma—
Thwack.
A blur at the base of my vision.
A heavy pressure building inside my ribs.
A liquid warmth trailing down my chest.
Then pain.
Why was there so much pain?
My chin dipped as my gaze fell to my body, where the bloody point of a long, glittering black blade had erupted from my flesh.
Straight through the center of my heart.
“Doriel has their way of getting rid of problems,” a low voice hissed. The sword jerked deeper. “And I have mine.”
Dying feels different than I thought .
The thought floated idly through my head.
Death was supposed to be cold, wasn’t it? Lonely. One’s life flashing before their eyes, perhaps last-minute regrets of loves lost or choices made.
But this felt... warm.
Painful, yes. Searing agony splintered through every nerve. My heart felt like it was being shredded in half—which, by the slowing throb in my chest, it probably was.
But there was an unexpected pleasure in it, too. A peculiar rightness. A feeling like I’d just gained something I desperately wanted.
Then, the throbbing stopped, replaced by a strange kind of calm. A comforting, eternal peace.
“You were an interesting opponent, Lumnos, I’ll give you that.”
The blade slid out of my chest with a nauseating slurp, and my body collapsed to the ground. A boot nudged my side, knocking me on my back, and through a hazy vision veiled with shimmering gold, the smirking face of the Ignios King stared back.
“But the flames always win in the end.”
To be continued...