Last Breath (The Eleventh Hour #3)

Prologue - Leigh

Samhain

“Not much longer,” I tell Ravi as my breath forms clouds in front of my face. The moon hangs full above us, and at midnight, I’ll attempt something that would terrify everyone I love.

We sit together on the muddy shore of a small lake nine hundred miles north of Borealis, the country’s city center, in the mountains of Glaucus.

A bonfire-scented breeze stirs my long blonde hair, but the lake remains eerily still, as if it is holding its breath.

The crisp autumn night promises snow, and mud seeps through my jeans as wet pine needles stick to the bottoms of my hiking boots.

“Are you cold?” Ravi asks, motioning to his fleece jacket. “You’re trembling.”

“Just eager to finish this and get home.”

Home to the capital, where the kingdom functions well enough that I can slip away for personal reasons.

Home to Wilder, who thinks I’m here mourning my ancestor Aradia, rather than trying to resurrect her.

Home to wedding plans that have been ongoing for over two years because we’re both too busy with our respective jobs to focus on the details—thank the gods for Gianna, who’s been our saving grace in handling everything we keep forgetting in the chaos of crowns and Council meetings.

Finally, finally, we will get to say our vows in March at the Iron Parthenon in Borealis, and I can hardly believe it’s real.

But first, I must fix the mistake I made last winter. The one that’s been eating me alive.

At midnight, when the barrier between the living and the dead is thinnest, I will invoke the gods to bind Aradia’s soul to mine.

It’s my fault she’s trapped in the despair of Mictlan.

As a Lunar Witch, I am responsible for helping my ancestors resolve unfinished business and cross over to Heaven.

I helped my father cross last year; despite the emotional challenge of letting him go, the process itself wasn’t difficult.

But when it came time to guide Aradia, she refused to leave.

She said, I don't know what waits for me when I leave this place. All I know is that I want to be here with you. It has brought me joy to watch you grow into the queen you are today. By your side is where I belong. I should have insisted; found a way to convince her. Instead, I let her linger—and souls that don’t cross over eventually fall into Mictlan.

After telling me about the War Letters and helping me bring peace to our country, Aradia’s continued counsel and encouragement gave me so much confidence in my identity as a queen and Lunar Witch.

How could I abandon someone who sacrificed everything for our kingdom?

She deserves better than an eternity of despair in a realm rumored to be bleaker than Hell itself.

When Ravi found stories about Mictlan in my father’s history books, I knew we had a way to save her.

Ravi shifts awkwardly beside me, getting more anxious by the second. “Are you sure we should do this? This ritual—it is dangerous.”

“The time for doubt has passed.” I have spent months studying Prince Hypnos.

Historical accounts say that the prince, another one of my ancestors, came to this very lake hundreds of years ago and convinced the gods to bind his dead bride’s soul to his own, bringing her back to life.

If he could do it then, I can do it now—for Aradia.

“Something’s off about this night,” Ravi says. “The energy isn’t flowing—it’s waiting. Like the lake is setting a trap. Maybe we should rethink this?”

I reach for my bag, which holds the supplies we need for the spell. “Don’t be a wimp.”

“I’m not. It’s a fact that this lake is haunted.”

He’s right, but we already knew that before we came here. This lake has always unsettled me, even as a kid—like something in my bones senses the violence that took place here a hundred years ago, when Lunar Witches were drowned under laws I later repealed.

“Ravi, I could use some positivity right now,” I say as I pull out the white candle and a painted bust of Aradia.

The voices of other trapped souls grow louder in my mind.

Ancestors beg me for help, desperate to heal from the traumas that keep them from going into the light.

I take a deep breath and push them aside, promising to help them later.

My focus has to be on Aradia and the spell I’m about to cast.

“I’m doing my best, but—” Ravi jumps and then looks around with wide eyes.

“Did you hear that?”

I check my phone—one minute until midnight. “We are out in nature. It was probably an animal. Now, can you please help me? Or if you aren’t going to, then you can leave. I’m already nervous enough as it is without you being so high-strung.”

“Leave? Without you?” Ravi blinks. I give him a look that brooks no argument. “I’m staying.”

Good. I’d rather not be in the woods alone if this spell doesn’t work and I fail Aradia a second time.

Sliding my lighter out of my hoodie pocket, I flick the ignition wheel, and light the purifying candle.

With a reluctant sigh, Ravi stands and brushes mud off his khakis.

Taking the candle, he reaches for the portrait and holds both steady so I can focus on the invocation spell I have written on a folded piece of paper in my pocket.

The ritual instructions make contacting the gods seem straightforward enough.

Whether they’ll actually respond, though, is uncertain.

Unfolding the paper, I force a smile. “Ready?”

“Let’s get this over with.”

“I call upon you, Great Mother of us all, bringer of fruitfulness, through seed and root, through leaf and flower, through life and love.” The words flow as a vengeful wind whips around us.

“Descend upon the body of your servant and chosen queen. Free Aradia from Mictlan, bind her soul to mine, grant her flesh and bone, and may we remain tied together until my dying day.”

The ground shakes. I scream, reaching for Ravi as he reaches for me.

Ravi drops the candle but clutches the portrait. The flame dies in the mud, plunging us into darkness as clouds swallow the moon. I breathe heavily, watching, waiting for what is to come.

“Did it work?” he asks seconds later.

I close my eyes and listen. Only wind and mournful cries reach my ears. No response from the gods. They gave Hypnos back his bride because he was royalty, and I’m part of his bloodline, but Aradia isn’t here. Perhaps the gods didn’t hear me?

Panic rises in my chest, my heart pounding faster than a caged bird’s frantic wings. The spell was meant to create a controlled telepathic link between me and the gods. They would tether my soul to Aradia’s in Mictlan, forming a connection I could use to pull her back.

“Let me try again—”

A bright purple light spreads from the lake’s center, like ink bleeding through water.

Magnetized by the otherworldly beauty, I step into the frigid lake. “I think it worked—”

“Get out,” Ravi shrieks. “That’s not Aradia. You’ve torn open a portal!”

“To the gods?” Hope stirs within me.

“Mictlan.” He blanches. “You called to the gods, but the dead answered instead.”

My blood turns to ice. A gateway to the realm of despair?

I rush toward shore. My spell was meant to invoke the gods, not the ghosts.

Usually, I have advisors, researchers, and Aradia herself to help me with urgent magical matters.

But I’m at a total loss here. I studied how to call on the gods, not how to open—or close—portals to other dimensions.

“How do we close it?” I ask.

“I don’t know.”

This can’t be happening. After years of building stability, I might have put everyone and everything in jeopardy in just one night. The peace Wilder and I worked so hard to achieve—all of it is at risk because of my guilt.

“We should call for help,” Ravi says, offering his phone. “At least tell Wilder.”

“No.” The word slips out sharper than I intend.

I can’t explain to anyone—especially Wilder—that I’ve been lying about this entire trip.

The deception festers like acid in my stomach.

He would lecture me about acting without thinking, and gods, he’d be right.

I lied to his face, claiming this was a simple getaway from royal duties, while I was planning something this reckless, this dangerous, so close to our wedding.

We are so near to our happy ending, and we have earned it after everything we’ve been through. I refuse to take that from him.

Ravi frowns. “Fine. Don’t trust your fiancé.” His words sting, because they’re unfair—this isn’t about trust. It’s about protection. Protection from me and what I’ve done. “What about Jaxson?” he asks. “Or the Council? Someone should be here in case anything comes through.”

I shake my head. I can’t tell the Council that their supposedly stable queen just ripped open a portal to the realm of the dead. Their faith in me would disintegrate like a sandcastle in a storm.

The purple light in the lake pulses gently.

Nothing has come through it yet. Maybe nothing will.

If we can handle this ourselves, then why create unnecessary worry?

The Council, Jax, and the Glaucus Blades would mobilize half the kingdom before we even understood what we’re facing.

Wilder would insist on investigating the portal himself.

No, we have to fix this ourselves.

“We keep this between us,” I say, settling onto the muddy shore and pulling out my phone. “I bet there’s something online about closing portals, even if it’s indirectly related. I’m sure there’s a forum about magical spells gone wrong. Sit down and help me research.”

Minutes pass as we scroll through articles, most of which refuse to load because of our shitty reception in the mountains. Finally, two sites load clearly.