Tales of a Monstrous Heart

Chapter Thirty-Nine

This world isn’t finished with you yet, Tauria.

Live.

Live , the ghost of my mother’s voice commanded, just as agony clawed at my body, wrenching me from unconsciousness. A cry left my lips as ashy dry earth coated my tongue. My head pounded but reaching for it hurt worse. Every inch of me resisted with agony.

I shivered, a bitter horrid cold brushing over my limbs. My skin was damp and heavy with it as I opened my eyes. The soft light stung but I forced myself to focus on it, only to discover it was coming from the stone of my necklace, flickering softly in the dirt before me.

I panted against the bitter earth, trying to cough it from my lungs, but with each breath all I could taste was centuries of pain, excruciating and sour in my mouth, pressing down on my weakening limbs.

Deeper and older than should be possible.

I could feel the phantom sting of a blade across my throat. The memory one that didn’t belong to me. The agony as it cut to the bone, seeking blood for their worship. The burning scrape of that darkness against my skin. All the fey that had died here before. Every single one. I felt it all in a moment.

The horrid grief of it.

Get up, I hissed to myself, spitting ash from my bloody mouth.

Small, sharp and unforgiving things dug into my palm, making me look down to see tiny folk bones pressed into the cursed soil and now my palms. Small bird skulls cracked, little more than dust and ashy shards. I tried to wrench back my hand, as if even now I could be hurting them, only to see the larger fragments mixed with stone and ash across the damp earth.

Jaw bones with teeth, the glisten of magic still trapped in the marrow. Fey bones.

Rage seared through my limbs. Something ancient in my blood responded wildly, giving me enough strength to get my knees beneath me.

‘Not so fast,’ a voice mocked from the darkness that surrounded me. A jangle of chain made my head jerk up, too late. A gleam as something shot towards me from the dark earth. I raised my arms to protect my head, only for the brutal impact of rusted, forsaken iron chains to wrap around my wrists.

The agony stole every thought from my head, the tormenting burn as the iron seared my skin. I screamed, trying to wrench myself backwards, to pull against the restraints, but they went taut from the other end lost in the dark. With brutal force those chains dragged me across rough broken terrain, fragments of sharp bone and stones ripping at my flesh.

I cried out, kicking and clawing at the wet earth, but there was nothing to stop it. Just the echo of dark laugher and the warmth of something metal beneath me as it finally stopped. My arms were pulled taut above my head, my back pressed against something smooth.

I squinted into the dark, only aided by weak streaks of light as I tried to work out the origin of the laughter. Trying to pull at the chains around my wrists, despite the agonising weight of them, the tremors that made every muscle contract. I panted and twisted like a wild thing.

The vaulted ceiling was low, made of stone but half collapsed at the centre, letting light stream down. Clumps of dust and ash fell like snow from above.

The ballroom.

The creature that had been Fairfax stepped slowly into view. His eyes were jet black as dark veins bled from them, taking over his face. Head tilted to one side with a crack, operated by something other than himself. Smile too wide, teeth too sharp and cruel. Sharp bumps moved beneath his skin, like a thousand insects trapped beneath the fleshy confines.

It crouched down, picking at its teeth as it considered me. Like it had just finished feasting on the bones scattered across the chamber.

A sharp click of his long dark taloned fingers and light flared in the chamber as torches bolted to the stone walls flickered into life. Harsh, white-grey demonic fire. Brutally cold, tearing at my skin like an icy wind. A warning from my very blood.

Run.

There was a skittering noise, and I looked up to see the shadow of dark fiends crawling across the remains of the ceiling for the cover of shadow, like rats fleeing a disturbed nest.

Too many. Too close. Impossible things that shouldn’t be. I panted, panic threatening to overwhelm me. Verr stone lined every inch of the space, reflecting demonic light. This was the sacrificial chamber.

The thing in Fairfax came closer, taunting as it clicked those nails, coated in a metallic sheen that made me recoil. Forsaken iron. Extra fang-like teeth tried to protrude from his jaw as he moved oddly, not familiar with the form. Bones snapped with the slightest movement.

‘The old ones told us to fear Kysillia’s blood, and yet I remain unimpressed,’ he mused, coming closer as I pulled at my restraints again. Nothing but agony rolled through me in response, making my back arch, throat too tight to scream.

‘How long we’ve sought such rich ancient blood,’ the creature leered, dropping into an animalistic crouch so its rotten breath washed over my face. ‘You may have noticed the damage the last one caused to my trap?’

I twisted, trying to kick it away from me, but the demon was faster. That clawed hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, wrenching my head back to expose my throat. I bit back a scream as the iron of its nails made contact with my scalp. Tears dripped down my cheeks, stinging my raw skin.

‘You gave your blood too freely, little troll.’ He bared his fanged teeth, watching me squirm and kick like a fish on a hook, gagging on my own urge to beg for it to stop. ‘No wonder the Mage King’s bastard wanted you so desperately. How you reek of him.’

The thing’s clawed hand dragged up the inside of my thigh, burning me as my back bowed, feet kicking helplessly, unable to get away.

Kyvor Mor , it hissed inside my head, making my heart plummet in my chest. Then those nails dug into the soft flesh of my thigh, puncturing to the bone, and the pain entered my blood.

An animalistic scream clawed up my throat. The pain at my scalp was nothing compared to that now pounding through my veins. The warmth of my blood running down my thigh … too much … too quickly. Panic consumed me but was soon forgotten as another wave of agony overwhelmed me, broken sobs mingling with my screaming.

The stone around my throat burned hot. Something changed in the air before that light grew blinding, shooting from the stone, right into the face of that creature.

It screeched as it was thrown back across the chamber. Its claws had torn free of my flesh as I panted for breath. Choking for air as I tied to roll, slipping in my own blood, bound hands clawing uselessly at the ground.

Then I heard the soft cracking. Not darkness forming. Something older. Like ice on a pond as the sun touched it. I tried to focus, to blink the pain from my vision as I saw a golden vein of metal beneath me, running through the dark earth.

A seal.

I was lying on a seal. The golden metal forged by the Kysillian Kings, magic to ensure such darkness never again broke free. I heard the crack. The drops of my blood as they touched that gold. Small cracks forming like spiderwebs. Dark tendrils of smoke seeping through the openings.

Awakening what slept beneath.

Run . That warning came again. Louder this time. I pulled brutally at my chains, weakness hindering me as I cried out.

‘I wouldn’t bother,’ the creature mocked from the dark where it had been cast, words slurred and petulant after attack. ‘Kysillians gave up their strength trying to break those chains long ago.’

There was a hissed scuttle to my right, and I turned to see a shape moving in the darkness. Low to the ground, humanoid with limbs that were too long for its body. The limbs bent unnaturally, covered in dark flesh that seemed to want to peel from its skeletal form. Its blind milky eyes were too large for its skull as it bared its sharp fangs, a hiss leaving its throat.

‘You’ve met the galmoth before.’ The creature in Fairfax hissed a laugh. ‘It enjoyed you very much.’

Galmoth. A fear demon. The thing from the ruins, that madness that almost had me. Those fey Emrys had found, why their hearts had given out. It had driven them mad with fear.

I twisted against my restraints, desperate. A muted scream left my lips from the pain in my wrists, the weakness in my leg as the seal continued to crack. More dark smoke reached to be free around me, the horrid stinging cold of it searing right to my bones.

The necklace thrummed against my chest in alarm. Demonic laughter rumbled through the room, the galmoth growling as I panted through the torment. I willed myself to be stronger.

Then the wishing stone light went out.

The demonic laugher died. Silence consumed everything for a bare moment. A familiar sensation brushed against my skin, stilling me as the tension in the air mutated into something far more deadly.

An ominous growl rumbled through the dark, from the fiends hiding there. I turned, despite the pain it caused. Heart-stopping hope made my breath short, pain forgotten as the shadows stretched out from the darkness.

The ground trembled, dirt and stones bouncing across its surface. A solitary dark figure stood in that stream of light from above, dark smoke curling around his form, mixed with an ethereal volatile light wrapping around his hands and arms.

Emrys.

The fiends above scuttled and screeched ready for attack. Too many of them for either of us. There was a hesitancy to them at Emrys’s mere presence. Spots danced in my vision and pain coursed through my blood.

‘Don’t make me waste her, Blackthorn,’ the creature in Fairfax’s body mocked as it staggered closer once more, one half of its face horridly peeled back to show bone, bloody flesh and teeth. ‘You know the masters have been calling for too long. You know the rewards the Verr Princes will bestow upon us.’

‘Your master is already before you,’ Emrys replied, only it didn’t sound like him. Too dark, too filled with rage as the ground continued to shake.

Then I saw why. His pulse pounded at his throat from the exertion of his spell casting, his bare chest covered in a webbing of dark veins.

Different than a dark spell, slate grey and soft, as if drawn with charcoal upon his flesh. Ancient marks from ancient worship. Darker and darker as they moved towards his heart. There sat a mark, in the shape of the crescent moon, the origin point from where his darkness began.

A symbol I’d seen in stories that had been forgotten by time.

The Moon of Serus. The mark of the first Verr Prince who survived a cursed blade to the heart in the first war, touching the purest magic that had created him, granting him the abilities of both worlds. An ancient magic. As ancient as Kysillian and just as forbidden. An enemy of my blood.

Emrys was Verr. A creation of the Old Gods.

The thing wearing Fairfax’s flesh went still, as he finally understood who was standing before him the same moment I did. The blinding white of Emrys’s magic and why he’d been reluctant to show it. Demon fire.

‘That’s not possible,’ the creature sneered.

‘Neither is this.’ Emrys voice was a rumble of deathly calm as a gleam of gold appeared in his hand. An echoing clang rang out as the object landed and tumbled across the seal next to me.

My father’s hilt. It had allowed Emrys to manipulate it. It trusted him, just as foolishly as I did. Every dark creature in the pit shrieked together, sensing the ancient power of the weapon.

The darkness in Lord Fairfax turned and rushed for me with a feral screech.

I rolled as far as the chains would allow, slipping in my own blood, hands wrapping around the hilt, forcing myself upwards, ignoring the burn of the forsaken iron against my flesh as the blade appeared.

I turned just in time as Lord Fairfax screamed, metal nails extended for my throat, and slid the blade into the centre of his chest.

I thrust it upwards, feeling him droop as dark blood dribbled from his lips. I bared my teeth with the ferocity of my pain, giving the blade a sharp twist, listening to his gargled final breath. Those dark eyes took me in once more as the veins began to recede from his face. His body trembled, being consumed from within.

‘ Brekver ,’ I hissed.

To the never . A command he had no choice but to obey as I kicked his corpse off the blade as it continued to convulse, crumbling to ash next to me.

I turned weakly to swipe at the links of the forsaken iron chain still holding me to the earth, breaking them as if they were made of nothing more than glass. Shattered pieces clattering to the seal.

The creatures above began to drop to the damp earth of the chamber as I got my unsteady legs beneath me. My bloody leg wasn’t working, every step sending the searing agony of that forsaken iron up my thigh.

The seal let out another loud crack, smoke pouring free, and at the exact same moment a strange, pained sound left Emrys as he crumpled to his knees. Darkness consumed his hands, curling up his forearms as he panted wildly for breath with the barest shake of his head as if something was talking to him.

‘Emrys,’ I called, voice strained with panic. Then there was another crack from the seal and a convulsion moved through his limbs. Somehow he was connected to it.

The dark calls all things back in the end.

‘You think it wouldn’t want you back?’ a demonic voice mocked from the darkness. ‘It’s torn you open before for a taste, Serus .’

A roar peeled itself from Emrys’ lips, his breathing laboured as his hands clutched his head, a tension rippling across his limbs. The brutality of those scars, catching the white demonic light.

Claws that had torn him open. Seeking something within. He had no chance in fighting it. All Verr belonged to the darkness beneath the earth.

Servitude to a master.

It was trying to take him back.

‘Emrys !’ I cried, trying to move towards him, but a shadow fiend landed in my path, jaws snapping like a rabid dog as it lurched forward. I brought my blade down in a swift arc, depriving it of its head, only for the momentum to send me to my knees. Weakness clawed at my limbs, my legs trembling with the pain of it. The skin of my wrists were raw and blistered, glistening with blood.

‘See what waits for you on the other side, Serus,’ came a mocking scream from the dark as chaos erupted. Dark fiends lunging for the kneeling form of Emrys, but he raised a hand, the bright white light shooting as straight as an arrow through the creature’s chest, a crack of bones as they were rendered to dust.

Power to eradicate the dark. Power formed of the Old Gods that made them. Emrys’s energy continued to tear through the chamber, flashes of light that illuminated the horror concealed here as he got back to his feet. Hundreds of fiends, hatching from the darkness.

It was coming for him. Just as he knew it would.

But he’d come anyway.

Come for me.

Fiends charged from behind him, a wall of dark, and before I allowed myself to think, my magic surged, protective and wild. A fire darting forward with a scream of its own, forcing the dark back. I commanded the fire to whip around the chamber, lashing out viciously, incinerating that foulness which clung to the walls. But it still wasn’t enough.

The release of its potency doubled me over, hands slamming into the ground to stop my fall. I panted against the cursed earth. Not realising how much magic I’d already used, the pain of my injuries suddenly came sharply into focus. I wasn’t as strong as I should be. I’d burned too brightly.

I heard Emrys call my name, felt him dragging himself closer, only for that storm of evil to cast us apart, dirt and ash on my tongue. Dark fiends dropped around me, hair whipped around my face. My magic was too slow. Dirt burned my eyes as pain made my limbs stiff and clumsy.

‘Kat !’ Emrys’s warning tore through the chamber too late.

I was sent sideways, crashing into one of the stone walls, which cracked and crumbled around me. Breathless, I hit the dusty tile only to be pinned by the galmoth, its teeth gnashing dangerously close to my face. I pushed my forearm under its jaw to keep it back, its putrid breath washed over me.

With a scream I tried to summon my magic, but no flames would catch with the dampness in the air. The icy bite of fear stung my heart, my damp bloody grip on the galmoth slipped enough for those cursed fang to bury themselves into my shoulder.

I bucked wildly as agony tore through me, screaming until my throat was raw with it.

Beg , the ghost of Daunton’s voice hissed into my ear, sour drink so bitter on his breath I could taste it in my mouth. A razor-sharp blow came across my back, and a horrid animalistic scream filled my ears. It took me a moment to recognise it as my own.

The pressure left my chest, allowing me to move, to try and gain any distance between myself and the agony, but it followed me. My fingers clawed at the dusty earth. Another blow, just as sharp, sent me rolling, sent my screams into the seal.

Light flashed across my vision. Darkness faded until I was on Master Daunton’s floor, Alma cold and immobile opposite me. Blood on her lips. I reached for her desperately, another blow stopping me. Another and another.

I cried out, batting wildly at the air to get it away from me but my hand struck nothing but air. Another lash. Another. Cruel hands on my flesh, pinching and twisting. Laughter filled my ears, demonic and sinister like theirs had been. Another blow struck me, striking my head harshly until light danced across my vision.

I was back in the chamber. Streaks of Emrys’s white light shot through the darkness, the roar of dark beasts and the golden glint of my father’s sword caught my eye as it lay in the dirt.

Fight, Tauria. My father’s command. Sharp and patient.

I reached out, dragging myself weakly until my fingertips brushed the hilt, but suddenly it wasn’t the sword. I was holding the cold hand of my mother, her unfocused dead eyes looking right at me. How sad they’d been in death. All the joy and laughter stolen too.

I wanted to recoil from the memory but it brought me something else. The last promise she made me make.

Live, Tauria.

I promise. My small broken voice answered even now as I watched her slip away. I’d promised her.

Kyvor Mor . The curse killer. The power of the old Kings. My father’s magic, alive inside me. The power she’d wished to feel before she left me. His.

We protect what we love, Tauria. Even when it’s far from our reach. My father’s voice whispered so softly into my ear and I found myself looking to that white demonic light in the darkness as Emrys called my name. Only my name.

Another painful blow struck me, rolling me onto my back. The dark form of the galmoth hissed over me, one long sharp talon pressed over my heart as that dark storm roared around the cavernous space. My blood dripped from its fangs as the seal cracked beneath me. Ready for the final blow.

‘Kat !’ came Emrys’s agonised scream, the room quaked with it. Debris fell, but everything faded into my nightmares once more.

In a blink it wasn’t a demon before me, but the sneering face of Master Daunton. His hand fisted the small bodice of my dress, dragging me off the ground to hit me again.

Alma.

I turned to see her. Prone and bloody on the cold stone floor. How blood seeped from her mouth, bruises under her torn dress. Right before that saints’ altar where he’d touched her.

I’ll keep you safe. Always. My promise to her in the depths of the night. Trapped in that foul place.

Forgive me. My father’s voice came next, whispered against my ear, the roughness of his beard, damp with tears.

Then that darkness abated so I could see him in my memory, kneeling before me on the sand, the ships sailing in the distance, and shouting for him to hurry before the storm came. How viciously the rain pelted my skin, filling my bones with a coldness I’d never lost.

Forgive me, Tauria . He had whispered into my hair, his hold tight. Making impressions in my very bones, making certain I wouldn’t forget his love.

Not for leaving me. No. For teaching me this fear. Fear that had kept me safe, kept me hidden, but I would hide no longer. I was a being with a monstrous heart, and now I’d show them just how monstrous I could be.

I opened my eyes, seeing that creature once more, feeling its talons digging into the skin of my chest, the drip of dark sour rot from its fangs.

Live. My mother’s command. I felt the chaotic fury of my magic rise in response to her words, along with vicious undeniable strength from my Kysillian blood. I thrust my hand up, catching the galmoth by the throat, twisting viciously until the bone protruded from its neck.

The dark smoke was unable to change in my hold as it tried to show me another nightmare, the demon peering down at me with fear in its deathly eyes.

It could show me nothing else. I had no fear left.

I screamed into its face; rage untethered. Just as I had into Master Daunton’s as he tried to strike me one last time, tried to take more from me, tried to destroy me.

My power poured from my hands, engulfing me in an inferno. Everything around us was thrown backwards with the turbulent flames. Plumes of dead earth and dark fiends were cast back. The creature screeched, clawing at my flesh and snapping to try and get free. But I let the fire’s intensity rise, shooting down its throat to melt its cursed flesh and bones. Hotter and wilder until it became nothing but ash in my grasp. Yet the magic kept going, kept building. My blood singing with the power of it. The beginnings of a storm that had brewed for too long surged around me.

My magic. Just as monstrous as me.

The cracking of the earth grew louder beneath me with every drop of blood that ran from my fingertips, from the bite at my shoulder, as molten fire consumed my veins, feeling the warmth of the magic that slept within them. The same fire that had formed the First Queen, Kysillia. The seal beneath my feet held that same warmth, dirt obscuring the ancient marks.

Reimor .

Kysillians had never been cowed by the darkness. That’s why the dark fiends and the mortals that worshipped it hunted us so desperately. Kysillians had sealed this earth before, sealed it even in a place as dark as this, and so I could again.

Tauria. Chaos of the Heavens. Why my father chose that name for me.

I screamed as that agony raced through my body, the metal shattering like delicate glass beneath my bare bloody feet. That dark smoke seeped through, forming claws that grabbed my ankles, pulling me down and clawing at my flesh. Refusing to let me go. Starved of its vengeance.

Then it began to crawl across the earth wildly towards Emrys. To take him too. To feast.

‘Kat !’ Emrys called, but I could only see a blurred image of him. Darkness crept into my vision, bright white light flaring before me the only evidence of his presence.

Control and devotion to something greater than yourself. I remembered those words as my father pressed my hand onto the stone statue of Kysillia, at the temples of old. As I promised never to fear myself, or the blood in my veins.

I was a liar, but I’d be a liar no more.

Kysillia might have given us her name, but she gave us something else, too: a power only her blood could wield. The power to destroy magic.

I heard the screeching roar of the fiends, saw them scurrying and running for that hole in the ceiling. To the outside. Then came the memory of pain, of those fey above, overwhelming me with the agony of it.

The carefree grin of William, the lack of fear in Alma’s eyes. Safe. Finally.

Only for me to remember those boys in the village foolishly hunting mort berries. The desperation of Mr Thrombi trying to save his village. The sad ghostly face of that girl in the wood. Trapped. The phantom press of a blade against my throat, the horror and agony of her death. Of all their deaths.

Then I knew, I couldn’t let this darkness out. Couldn’t let it touch this world. I felt the demonic wind whip around me, the thunderous roar of Emrys’s magic. Undeniably his, and dark beyond measure.

Verr couldn’t lie.

The most beautifully chaotic thing I’ve ever seen. He hadn’t lied about any of it. He couldn’t.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I felt myself reaching the depths of that abyss of chaos inside of me, knew there was no surviving this. Not for me. Just like my father. To be consumed by the fire we protected.

I understood my curse then. No matter how I loved something, it would never be enough to keep it with me. I wasn’t made for living. Yet I looked to Emrys’s demonic light one more time, arching through that darkness, trying to find a way through despite the fiends and my flame.

I won’t leave you alone to that darkness, Kat.

He hadn’t. I wasn’t alone.

‘ Kyslor. ’ The word fell easily from my lips. Raw magic rose and flooded my palms. Bright blue and purple flames, wilder than before, drenching the dark dismal place with chaos.

The fiends recoiled, screeching and scattering for what little shadow was left. The wind they formed as a weapon became my own, catching the flames and building momentum. Melting the forsaken iron cuffs that remained at my wrists. My flames entwined as tightly as metal chain, a cyclone of fire that whipped about the chamber, reaching for the endless darkness above.

The room trembled under the roar, and I stood at the heart of it, allowing it to build in me. A storm of my own making fuelled that fire. A vast barrier between me and the dark.

The seal began to glow bright beneath me as fire poured from me, dragging every last ounce of strength from my bones as my knees began to buckle. The force of it pushed down on me, my control slipping with every moment that passed.

My hands trembled, weakness poisoning my limbs as doubt crept in, breaths harsh and shallow between my teeth.

The heat intensified, a scream pealed from my lips from the pain of my exertion. Tears fell from my eyes only to dry instantly on my cheeks. Skin so painfully tight I feared a mere breath would reduce me to ash. Yet it was waiting for something; the madness wanted a command. It sought order as I watched the metal bleed back together beneath me and I gathered the last of my courage to give it one.

‘ Caevus .’ Seal . I commanded over the ferocity of my magic.

The firestorm crashed down on top of me to hit the seal at my command. The energy encompassed me, pressing the air out of my lungs as it roared in my ears and filled the chamber. The screeching intensified, the creatures leaving their fight to scramble for the seal as if their determination to stop me would be enough.

The minute they crawled towards the flames, they were incinerated, sealed to the molten earth beneath my feet, their screeches horrific and wild as they tried to pull themselves free, slowly becoming the metal they wished to break. The ones that clawed at the dark earth were sucked into the fiery wind, dragged to their destruction upon my command.

The intensity pressed me down, harder and harder, until my knees gave out like those of a weak foal, hands pressed against the metal. My arms trembling as the last of my will was extinguished.

Torment coursed through my blood. Shapes moved before me, a mixture of black smoke and sharp white magic with flashes of pale flesh beyond the wall of flames that continued to whirl.

I collapsed forward, cheek pressed against that heat, arms numb at my sides, breaths too tight. I tried to focus on anything but the roaring in my ears. A space just beneath the mess, showing me the darkness of the room beyond. A dark veined hand reaching out towards me, that small crescent moon at the knuckle.

Emrys. Pressed flat against the bloody ashen earth, his arm reaching for me as his mouth moved, desperate and pleading. Roaring something over the firestorm.

I couldn’t hear him. There was nothing but the blistering pain of it all. My body was no longer my own, drained and fuelling something beyond me.

‘Tauria !’ he commanded, the name striking me like a blow, raising a will inside of me I thought the fire had incinerated.

Live, Tauria . My mother’s words came back to me, fierce and real. She knew this was my fate and she commanded me not to die. To not let this world have me too. Not yet.

Live.

Live.

Live.

I wouldn’t betray her, not now. My arm moved automatically, sliding across the hot ash to reach him, as I panted for breath. Every inch I managed his voice became clearer, his eyes wet. A mixture of fear and desperation.

Then the coolness of his fingers interlocked with my own and with one sharp tug, he pulled me out from under it. We tumbled and rolled until a pressure was on top of me, my arms curled weakly around the damp muscular expanse of his back, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

All I could smell was the strange woody scent of his skin, the bitterness of old spells and the chaotic smoke from my magic, tangling together between us as the ground shook, a roar filling my ears as he made a cage of his body around me just as the ceiling came down. Dirt and rubble threatened to bury us, but I held on to him. Tried to gulp down cool air as Emrys’ trembling hands ran over my burning face. Words of encouragement were soft in the silence as I looked up at him, concern marring his features.

‘I’ll burn you,’ I whispered weakly through dry lips, cautious of the intensity of the heat, but he only held me tighter, bringing me to his chest. I relished the chill of his exposed throat against my flushed skin.

A coldness seeped into my limbs, eyes too heavy, my thoughts too distant. Sunlight streamed from above, right over his shoulders, bathing him in that golden light. But still the darkness crept closer.

‘No,’ he commanded, shaking me gently, pulling my limp body further into his arms. ‘Stay awake, Kat.’

There was the sharp tear of fabric before something pressed harshly against the side of my throat. The pain of it made me recoil but he wouldn’t let me go. A wetness on my skin I didn’t understand, couldn’t open my eyes to see.

I didn’t want to go. My hands curled around his wrist, trying to hold on to the chaotic thrum of his magic. To find my way back to him. Trying to press his strength into my skin, trying to stop myself slipping away.

‘Fight, Kat.’ A stubbornness in his tone as my hand found his where it applied pressure to my throat as I dragged in unsteady breaths, feeling them weakening despite how hard I tried. Too tight and too slow.

Everything had left me. My magic. The strength in my blood. But not him.

I opened my eyes, seeing the dark smoke-like veins that covered his pale flesh. Signs of his true form when using his blood magic, like a pattern drawn by an ancient artisan, and I was captivated in my delirium to see him as he was meant to be. Bathed in that golden light.

My weak fingertips traced his jaw, leaving a smear of blood on his skin, following the lines over uneven flesh before he captured my hand in his own, pressing my filthy palm against his lips. Skin damp with his tears.

‘Stay with me, Kat.’ He bowed his head, breath brushing against my lips.

The darkness of his eyes, of the power that rested in his soul. So much the opposite to mine and yet it unmanned me all the same. None of it mattered, just that he was holding me, and I wasn’t alone.

‘ Amartis ,’ I breathed, tasting blood on my lips. My mother’s last promise. Now mine.

I didn’t have the breath left to tell him what lingered in my soul, the intensity in his gaze telling me he could sense it.

‘Kat,’ he begged, his forehead resting against mine as his hand came to cradle the side of my jaw, our breaths mingling. ‘Please.’

It was too late. Blackness seeped into the corners of my vision with a horrid coldness, but before I could let it take me, he shook me again, his hold tighter, the pressure on my throat firmer.

‘Kat. Stay and fight with me.’ An order, his breath brushing upon my lips. He kissed my skin, but it stayed cold. ‘Stay and forgive me. Please.’

I already had. I’d forgive him anything.

‘Y-you came,’ were the only broken words that could escape my lips. How easing it felt not to be alone as that dark came for me.

‘I’ll always come for you.’ His thumb brushed my cheek. That promise he’d given me. The one he’d kept. Even till the end. The thing I held closest to my heart, that soothed everything else.

I wasn’t alone as that darkness crept closer. Numbness flooded too swiftly through my body.

Serus . Something whispered distantly in my mind, desperately trying to hold on. Dark enough to come from his lips, but I lost it as I tumbled into the nothingness of my death.