Chapter 52 Epiphany
EPIPHANY
ASH
Watching the palace guards bind Rae’s wrists and ankles to the sacrificial slab Cornaith had commissioned turned my stomach.
The council had never executed someone this way.
Ezra said Cornaith wanted a grand display—both to warn anyone who thought to challenge the council and to show the people of Elyrdin he would protect them, enacting swift revenge on anyone who dared threaten its future.
She wanted to speak to me.
They bound her voice again. I saw it in her panicked eyes.
It took everything in me not to break rank and sever the arms of the guards holding her.
As soon as they brought Rae into view, the triplets combined their power to trap the four of us inside an invisible barrier. The council wasn’t taking chances on whether we’d act or not—not with the live broadcast.
It was a good thing they enclosed us.
The minute Cyn saw the state she was in, his eyes had flooded with obsidian, ready to transform and eliminate the threat to her. No matter how much he protested his connection to her, his soul recognized the truth I stopped denying.
Rae belonged to us.
We belonged to her.
When the guards dragged Rae to the slab, the triplets moved to get a better view, dropping their barrier. So when Rae begged for our help, Zeke started to move—until fear became his new restraint.
I’d heard Cyn’s whispered warning, reminding Zeke what would happen if he interfered.
I knew if I broke rank, I wouldn’t be the only one to pay the price. I needed to protect my brothers, but I had to do something.
Rae went still, staring at the sky.
The moment she surrendered, a strange peace washed through me that I knew belonged to her. The fire I’d seen in her flickered out with the rattle of chains and a trail of tears.
The council encircled the ostentatious altar in a wide semicircle, ensuring the cameras and the elders on the platform had an unobstructed view.
Cornaith spread his arms, playing up his role for the camera. “Never have we seen a human bridge the gap between the planes in an attack on Elyrdin’s royal families before now. Multiple generations of our council have stood without human interference or detection.”
Rae closed her eyes when he stepped closer to the altar.
“And yet, this human thought to go after our most precious heirs. The princes of prophecy destined to lead Elyrdin into an era of prosperity unlike ever before.”
“He’s so full of shit,” Cyn muttered.
Ezra tucked his hands in his pockets—one of the few tells I’d learned to spot when he tried to hide his emotions.
Since I’d brought up Bondrot, I’d noticed a shift in his behavior.
Whenever Zeke mentioned Rae, unable to let her go, Ezra tensed. More than once, he’d had to leave the room. He knew the truth.
His father would kill his Nyrith, and he remained powerless to stop it.
If given the opportunity, would he give the bond a chance? I doubted it.
Ezra once said he doubted Cornaith would ever let him have privacy with a mate. Control over Ezra required control over his Nyrith too.
Rattling chains wrenched my attention back to the slab.
Rae twisted, jerking against her binds as the council raised their hands.
“With the payment of her crimes, this human will gift our people with another shard of infinite energy to see to a flourishing future. We thank you for your sacrifice for the people of Elyrdin.”
Cyn sneered, “Is he seriously fucking framing this as voluntary?”
“He’s twisting the narrative to alter the public’s perception of what’s happening,” Ezra said, voice low and measured.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Even if our people are incensed over a human infiltrating the infernal plane and harming us, many won’t accept an execution.”
Given how revered humans were among our people for sustaining our livelihoods, I understood why they wouldn’t want to witness a human’s death firsthand—but banishment could be a fate worse than death if the banished didn’t make it past Feranzis or Moicae to whatever lay beyond.
Ezra watched his father with contempt in his eyes. “By framing her punishment as a willing gift of her soul to Kalthea, Father turns her into a symbol of loyalty. If she’s accused of terrorism, he casts it as her accepting this fate.”
I glanced at the edges of the clearing where the council’s barrier held strong.
The lost souls of Cholian—those rumored to wander without purpose—approached the barrier’s edges. Without the magical barrier, their cries would drown out Cornaith’s melodramatic monologue.
Rae’s mouth opened in a silent scream as powerful energy filled the air.
They weren’t hurting her yet, but I knew their combined power in such close proximity wouldn’t feel pleasant.
“Mom’s not doing it,” Cyn said, his chest rising and falling faster with each breath.
My gaze snapped to him. “What are you saying?”
“Lymsrana isn’t using her magic to hurt Raelynn. Mother isn’t either,” Ezra said through clenched teeth.
I looked at the council again and focused on their magical signatures.
They were right.
I’d focused so much on Rae that I failed to notice Lymsrana and Amra weren’t participating. They cast, but their magic flowed elsewhere. Only the others’ power touched the slab.
“They don’t want Cornaith to know,” Ezra said, answering my unspoken question of why they cast at all if they weren’t taking part in Rae’s execution.
Because the council masked their magic for broadcast optics, Lymsrana and Amra could conceal defiance, manipulating Cornaith.
Zeke crossed his arms, scratching at his sleeve. “Why are they pretending?”
Cyn and Ezra didn’t answer.
Like me, I doubted they knew the answer to that question.
Cyn reached for Zeke, knowing he needed comfort. But one warning glance from Roandra made it clear that even that wouldn’t be tolerated.
When Cornaith said something I didn’t hear over the rush of blood in my ears, the council moved closer to the slab.
Zeke’s breathing grew labored, and he mumbled, “I can’t do this. I can’t let her die.”
Ranthus glanced at us when Cyn growled low in his throat. “Young Master, control yourself. Soon you shall be free of her wretched influence.”
Free?
Centuries of emptiness awaited if we allowed Rae to die today. Fate wouldn’t bless us with another Nyrith—not after we allowed the first one to die.
Even if Rae used dark magic to bring us to Earth in a bid for power, it didn’t matter. Everything she’d said—about our kind, lesser infernals, the mark on her leg, her necklace—could’ve been a lie.
None of it mattered.
Rae turned her face away from the council, and her gaze collided with mine.
Nothing mattered but the truth I knew deep inside. Nyrith or not, my heart hadn’t ached for another the way it ached for Rae. And that ache cemented one truth that overrode all other doubts.
I loved her.
Never had another woman captivated me the way Rae did. She made each day feel new and exciting, where before I’d only gone through the motions, a slave to duty and chained by expectations.
Everything else could be solved with time. Even her connection to my brothers.
Ezra and Cyn might never act on their feelings, but I knew they felt something deeper than animosity. And Zeke? He loved her—maybe as much as I did.
They were my brothers. I’d spent my life sharing everything with them, so why would I squander the opportunity to share the most precious thing to come into our lives?
Rae deserved to be cherished and protected.
She’d spent her life running from shadows she never understood—neglected by a family who didn’t deserve her.
I might not be able to give her everything she needed, but my brothers could fill the spaces I couldn’t. If she wanted them too, I wouldn’t covet her as mine alone.
Zeke turned, finding something to focus on instead of spiraling. “Ezra?”
Ezra’s shoulders bunched, sweat sliding down his temples.
Rae twisted on the slab when sparks of red and blue flashed against her clothes.
The council couldn’t fully mask the power it took—not only to end Rae’s life, but to extract her memories and separate her soul for Kalthea while still maintaining the barrier.
Cyn sucked in a sharp breath, clutching his chest as Rae curled in on herself, the chains pulling taut. “Fuck. She’s—fuck!”
I dropped to one knee, pain spearing through my chest.
Zeke cried out, and the triplets turned as he collapsed beside me.
Rinlora looked at Ranthus with wide eyes. “What’s happening to them?”
Ranthus waved a cameraman away. “Leave. The people don’t need to see this.” He turned to Rinlora. “The spell she placed on them must be breaking.”
No.
We felt her pain.
I experienced the attack on her body as if it were happening to me.
Ezra’s breaths came in short bursts through his nose as black tendrils crept up his neck. It took every shred of restraint he possessed to keep his shadows from consuming him.
Every nerve burned in a fire not my own, consuming me from the inside out. My stomach spasmed until I thought I’d vomit. In all my years on the battlefield, I’d never known agony like this—Rae’s pain bleeding through our weakening bond.
“She’s dying!” Zeke curled tight, hugging himself.
This couldn’t continue.
I didn’t care what punishment awaited me for defying Cornaith. I couldn’t let this continue.
I pushed to my feet, seized the distraction Zeke created when the triplets focused on him, and charged the altar. I threw myself over Rae before her fragile human body shattered beneath the magic ripping her apart.