47. Rylan
47
RYLAN
L artina stands before me, a viper in silk, all teeth and venom.
The torchlight flickers over her dark skin, illuminating the cruel curve of her lips, the glint of something dangerous in her blood-red eyes.
She blocks the only path forward, her men flanking her on either side, blades drawn, bodies poised for the inevitable violence.
But I only see her.
The woman who betrayed me.
The one who whispered lies into my ear while plunging a dagger into my back.
I should have killed her a long time ago.
And tonight, I will.
She tilts her head, studying me like a creature she intends to dissect.
"Rylan," she purrs, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. "You look terrible, darling. Has she been keeping you up at night?"
Her gaze flicks to Seraphina, and I see the way she lingers on her.
The way her lips curve in something hungry, cruel.
Seraphina doesn’t flinch, though I feel the tension in her body beside me.
She meets Lartina’s gaze with steel and fire.
Good.
She’s not afraid.
But Lartina doesn’t need her to be afraid.
She just needs her gone.
And I will not let that happen.
"You should have run when you had the chance," I say, voice calm, cold.
Lartina laughs.
"Run?" She gestures around us, to the cavern walls that echo with her amusement. "This is my domain, Rylan. I am the spider in the web. And you… you are the fool who walked straight into my trap."
I roll my shoulders, grip steady on my dagger.
"If this is your trap, you should have set a better one."
A flicker of irritation crosses her face, gone as fast as it came.
She closes the distance between us, moving like silk, like smoke.
Too close.
I smell the perfume she used to wear when she laid beside me.
The one she wore when she whispered lies into my mouth like promises.
She lifts a hand, reaching for me.
And I let her.
Just long enough for her fingers to brush against my jaw.
"You still want me," she murmurs.
Her touch is cold.
"Not even in death," I whisper back.
She moves fast, dodging the first blow, but I don’t stop.
I drive forward, our blades clashing in a storm of steel and fury.
She’s as deadly as ever.
Every movement calculated, sharp, precise.
But so am I.
And I have more to lose.
We circle each other, blades cutting through the air, feet moving over damp stone.
She lunges. I twist.
A near miss.
She smiles.
"You still fight like a noble."
I snarl. "And you still fight like a whore."
Her eyes flash.
And then she comes for me.
The world narrows to the chaos of the fight.
She is quick, cruel, merciless.
But she is also angry.
And anger makes you sloppy.
I feint left—she falls for it.
I twist, my blade sinking into her side.
A sharp gasp.
A stumble.
She looks down at the blood spreading across her gown.
And then she laughs.
"You think you’ve won?" she breathes.
Her voice is weaker now.
She presses a hand to her wound, staggering slightly.
But she still smiles.
She always has one last move.
Her eyes lock onto mine, fierce, alight with something unreadable.
"I didn’t want the treasure, Rylan," she murmurs, voice soft now, edged with something cruel. "Not the gold. Not the riches. Do you really think Nhilian is that simple?"
I still.
Something in my heart goes cold.
"What are you talking about?"
Her smile widens.
"Your father’s magic," she whispers. "That’s the real treasure."
The world tilts.
The air goes razor-sharp.
I feel Seraphina tense beside me.
Lartina’s breath comes in shallow gasps now.
She sways slightly, but still—she smirks.
"He was trying to cheat death," she breathes. "And Nhilian wants his secrets."
No.
I don’t want to listen to this.
I don’t want it to be true.
But it makes sense.
Too much sense.
My real father.
The forbidden magic.
The reason he was killed.
The reason my family was destroyed.
The reason why Marchellion killed him.
Nhilian doesn’t just want the treasure.
He wants what my father left behind.
Lartina laughs softly, blood slipping from her lips.
"You always underestimated me, Rylan," she murmurs.
I watch as the light begins to fade from her eyes.
"Goodbye, Lartina," I whisper.
Then I drive my dagger into her throat.
She gasps—a sharp, wet sound.
Her body goes slack.
She crumples.
And finally, Lartina is dead.
Silence. There’s no more noise. It’s the finality of Lartina’s life.
Her body lies still on the cavern floor, her blood pooling into the cracks of the stone.
I watch it spread, a part of me waiting for her to rise again.
For her to laugh, to whisper one last taunt.
But she doesn’t.
She is gone.
And yet, the taste of victory is bitter.
Now, I know the truth.
This was never about gold.
It was never about power or land or wealth.
It was about magic.
My father’s magic.
And Nhilian is one step ahead of us.
I turn to Seraphina.
She’s pale, still recovering, but her eyes are sharp with understanding.
She knows what this means.
"We have to move," she says.
Vael arrives, bloodied. He took care of Lartina’s soldiers.
I look at him, and walk toward him as he crumble to the ground.
“Brother…” I call out. His eyes widen with tears.
“Stay. Take care of your family.”
He holds my hand.
“Take care and come back, brother,” he chokes.
I step away and look at Seraphina. I grip my bloodied blade.
No more running.
No more waiting.
Nhilian thinks he can take everything from me.
He thinks he can claim my father’s power, take the one person left in this world who means something to me.
But he’s wrong.
I will find him.
I will end him.
I will take back what is mine. No matter the consequences.