Chapter 17 #6
I only held him tighter, twisting my hands into the fabric of his clothing.
“I love you so much, Theo.”
He locked his arms around me, pulling me closer, but he was rigid, caught off guard by my sudden confession.
“What—”
Before he could finish, I tore away and launched myself at Tavrik, slamming into him with enough force to knock the air from both of us. I wound my arms around him like iron bands, as if he would slip away if I let go.
“I love you too, Tavrik.”
Tavrik’s body went taut beneath my touch. His arms hovered, uncertain, before finally closing around me with a protective ferocity.
I had witnessed them follow me without question—seen them stand between me and death itself, only to have their lives ripped away as payment for their loyalty.
Above my head, they exchanged a look heavy with unspoken questions.
“And we love you…” Theo said, breaking the silence. “But what the fuck just happened?”
I pulled back from Tavrik, my eyes still burning with unshed tears.
“One second you were reaching for the stupid stone, and the next…” He shook his head, baffled. “You just froze. Sat there with your hand stretched out, staring at absolutely nothing.”
“You weren’t breathing,” Tavrik added.
I looked down at the stone.
I couldn’t tell them. Couldn’t describe the way Tavrik had bled out in my arms. Couldn’t explain the sound of Theo’s screams as the fire consumed him. Couldn’t share the image of Zaheera standing victorious over their broken bodies.
No. I refused to put that pain onto them.
I cleared my throat, still unable to meet their eyes. “Zaheera showed me a vision.”
Both of them went rigid.
I forced down the nausea, shaking my head. “I’ve already forgotten most of it,” I lied. “Point is, I can’t win against her. There is no other way. I need to end his life.”
Speaking the words out loud hurt more than I ever thought it would. I had been willing to run, willing to risk it all just so I wouldn’t have to do this.
Tavrik adjusted his posture, his gaze moving to the stone with grim resignation. “I guess it’s time then.”
I hated myself. Hated the stone and every circumstance that had led me here. There was nothing I could do or say that would change what had to happen.
I knelt to the ground, wanting to throw up. I had already lived this moment in the vision, and now I was condemned to live it again.
Closing my eyes, I grabbed the stone, tearing it from the earth with a sharp pull.
The swirling patterns within its core pulsed with the same eerie glow. It thrummed gently in my palm, deceptively peaceful. Waiting.
Theo shook his head. “I hate that fucking thing.”
This stone—this stupid rock—had brought me more anger, more grief into my life than anything ever should have.
Tavrik remained silent as I turned it over in my palm, his brow furrowed.
I let out a shaky breath before tucking it beneath the fabric over my heart. It hummed softly, warming to my touch.
I stood, throwing my head back to stare toward the Heavens. It had to be done tonight. If I delayed, if I let doubt once again take root and spread, I would lose my nerve.
I forced my feet to move, heading back toward the palace in silence. The plan formed between us without the need for words.
Attend the feast. Pretend nothing was wrong.
One last moment of peace before I would betray the only man who had ever truly seen me.
As soon as I stepped back into my room, I yanked the stone from my chest and shoved it beneath my pillow.
“Zaheera.” I recoiled at her name flowing from my lips.
She entered my mind without a word.
“How do I do it?” I ground my teeth together. “Do I need to say something? Hold it against him?”
Her anticipation was palpable.
“You will hold the stone over him,” she purred with dark pleasure. “And you will speak these words.”
She let the pause stretch on, drinking in the tension before speaking the incantation.
“By blood and fire, by fate untold. I bind you in. I seize my hold. Through endless dark, through shifting hours, be bound within, release your power.”
I shuddered. The words felt final. A weight I would carry for the rest of my life.
“Once it is done,” she whispered like fading smoke, “I will tell you where to find me.”
Then she was gone, leaving behind only the echo of her malice.
I needed to hide it before Dalkhan could see it.
I grabbed the stone from beneath my pillow, shoving it back against my chest and left my room.
My legs moved without conscious thought, carrying me up the countless stairs to his door. I knocked, praying to the Heavens he wasn’t there. That I wouldn’t have to face him yet.
No response.
I pressed an ear to the wood, listening for any sign of movement within.
Nothing.
I slipped inside, frantically searching for a place to hide it. Every surface suddenly seemed too open, too exposed. I spun in dizzying circles, the stone burning against my skin.
Then I saw it.
A small wooden table in the far corner of the room, bearing a bowl filled with an assortment of ripe fruit.
I lunged toward it, dumping the fruit onto the floor. The stone hit the bottom of the bowl with a sharp clang.
I hastily replaced the fruit, layering it carefully until the stone disappeared.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, staring at the innocent-looking bowl. This was it. I had done it. I had just sealed his fate with my own hands.
I was a monster.
I stood frozen, trapped between the bowl and the door. Part of me wanted to rip the fruit away—to grab the stone and fling it off the balcony. But I couldn’t do anything but stare at what I had done.
When my legs remembered how to work, I fled his chambers, slamming the door shut behind me.
I walked back to my room, but my mind still circled the bowl.
Soon Mira would come to help me prepare for the feast. I would have to smile, to pretend I wasn’t drowning in my own betrayal.
I quickly bathed, crying as I brutally scrubbed at my skin, as if I could wash away the sins I had yet to commit. To make matters worse, the steam, the soap, everything smelled like him. Another twist of the knife already buried deep inside my heart.
The water could not cleanse me.
Nothing ever would.
Mira appeared as she always did, her movements graceful and her touch delicate.
But tonight, everything was different.
She gestured with sweeping motions as she spoke, but her words dissolved into white noise against the thundering of my pulse.
I nodded absentmindedly while my hands twisted in my lap.
This was the last time I would see Mira, yet I couldn’t bring myself to be present. My gaze kept drifting to the balcony, to the door, anywhere but her trusting face.
“Elira?”
Her soft voice pushed past the thick fog.
I blinked. “Huh?”
She paused mid-gesture, her hand suspended in the air. Her large eyes searched mine with quiet concern before she braced her hands on my arms.
Her touch was warm, and it only made the ache inside me that much worse.
She was always gentle, always patient, and I wanted to weep.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem… distant. Did I do something wrong?” Her teeth worried at her lower lip. “If I did—”
I spun to face her, grasping her hands tightly.
“No, Mira. It’s not you. I’ve just been feeling… off. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”
Relief softened her features. She offered me a small, comforting smile before diving back into her usual chatter.
“I was just saying how beautiful Jasila and Tavrik are together,” she continued, twisting a strand of my hair.
They were beautiful together, and in Zaheera’s vision, I had seen just how much Tavrik cared for Jasila. Yet, because of me, that happiness would shatter.
Mira finished arranging my hair in a loose updo, leaving a few strands to frame my face. She called it ‘carefree.’
I felt anything but.
When the door closed behind her, leaving me alone, I turned to the mirror. To the face that would soon become unrecognisable.
The face of a traitor.
The door hinges groaned as it swung back open.
Theo and Tavrik stepped inside, their presence filling the room. The moment my eyes found theirs, every carefully constructed wall inside me shook on the verge of collapse.
They were alive. They were here.
Theo dropped into a crouch that brought his face level with mine. “Are you ready for this, El?”
His voice was resigned, like he wanted me to say no. As if he were hoping—praying I would back out.
He couldn’t see the invisible chains that bound us to this path, couldn’t comprehend that there was truly no escape from fate’s cruel design.
I managed a single nod, the motion costing me everything.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks in hot, traitorous streams.
Jasila’s footsteps whispered across the ground at that exact moment, her radiant smile faltering as she took in the scene before her.
“Are you okay?”
Before I could answer, Theo lunged forward theatrically and started furiously blowing air into my eye. He was so absurdly committed to the act that I nearly choked on my tears.
“She, uh, had an eyelash,” he announced.
The excuse was absolutely, completely, magnificently stupid, Yet somehow, it worked.
Jasila’s expression softened into mild amusement, her shoulders relaxing.
Theo straightened to his full height, puffing out his chest with completely unearned pride.
“Smooth,” Tavrik muttered.
We moved as one toward the door. The walls closing in with every heartbeat—the air growing thicker, more suffocating.
There was no turning back.
The drums began.
Their deep, relentless pounding mirrored the erratic beat of my heart. As Dalkhan entered the hall, an undeniable force swallowed the room whole. The temperature spiked, the scent of burning embers curling around me.
All bowed as one, their heads lowering in reverence.
I couldn’t. I refused to tear my eyes away from him.
He moved through the hall, his steps weighted with fire and shadow. Fire danced along his skin, and golden light illuminated the brutal beauty of his face.
He was breathtaking.
He was lethal.