Chapter 70
Esmyra
The violent clashes of power rattled the very bones of the palace. Every strike, every pulse of divine magic was a war for their shared essence, a battle not just of flesh but of soul.
Esmyra levitated in the air above it all, her lungs straining as dust and smoke choked the air. The domed ceiling was long gone, shattered into jagged teeth against the blood-red sky. Pillars cracked and thundered down around them, sending shards of pale stone skittering across the shattered floor.
She’d lost her spear in Naerysa’s attack, and her stomach twisted when she saw it lying half-buried beneath debris, the shard of velsinyte jutting uselessly out of reach.
Without that weapon, she wasn’t sure there would be a way to defeat Syrena. If she held her off for a few more minutes, would the bond be broken? If neither sister was able to absorb the other’s power, what happened then?
Truthfully, she wasn’t willing to find out. An image of her ripping her sister’s heart from her chest appeared in Esmyra’s mind, and she grinned.
For a moment, she tore her gaze from Naerysa and looked across the chaos below.
Jak’s cutlass flashed as he gutted a guard twice his size, blood streaking down the side of his temple. Atlas’s voice carried even over the roar of collapsing stone, rallying the others as shadows whipped from his hands.
Draevyn’s hair was plastered to his face with blood she prayed wasn’t his. Every movement he made was reckless and unyielding as his sword blazed with fire, cutting down anyone near.
Her stare moved to the opposite side of the room, where Jenli fought alongside Ren and Riven.
Vines shot out of the floor at Jenli’s command, halting their attackers and keeping them still as Ren cast them in a haze of impenetrable mist, all while Riven’s elven powers brought endless screams out from their throats.
They were bleeding, exhausted, and fighting tooth and nail against forces meant to crush them. But they were still here. Esmyra’s crew was still fighting for her.
Her crew. Her family. They needed her.
“We need to finish this!” Kaelypso boomed.
Esmyra dragged her focus back to her sister, who wore a malicious smile as if she could sense the direction of her thoughts.
“You can watch them die,” Naerysa purred, eyes glowing like burning coral, “or you can give in. Either way, you lose.”
The floor lurched, sending another pillar crashing into the fray below. Cries rang out as the crew scrambled for cover. Draevyn’s voice rose above it, a ragged shout of defiance.
Esmyra had no intention of surrendering, and she refused to fail those she loved.
The air crackled around them, two goddesses suspended above the wreckage like twin stars destined to burst. Every breath scorched Esmyra’s lungs, every pulse of power threatened to tear her apart, but still she pushed forward.
With an ear-shattering screech, she launched herself through the air until she crashed into her sister.
Together they plummeted, slamming into a mountain of jagged and broken marble that was nearly as tall as the ceiling had once been.
The ground screamed beneath the force, fractures splitting wide through the wreckage.
Esmyra scrambled across it, muscles trembling as her eyes locked on her sister. Naerysa mirrored her movements, talons flashing against the broken marble as she sought leverage. The air around them shimmered as the tower of debris they clung to groaned, teetering on the edge of collapse.
And above them, the Blood Moon reached its zenith. Its crimson light bathed the broken palace, seeping into the cracks of stone and illuminating their skin. The sight only deepened the madness in Naerysa’s eyes, all while sharpening the resolve in Esmyra’s veins.
Esmyra didn’t waste another second as she leapt, her hands shooting forward before her fingers closed around her sister’s throat, talons digging into her skin with a deliberate force.
Naerysa struggled beneath her, solar light lashing from her, but Esmyra’s grip was relentless as power coursed along her arms.
She felt every betrayal, every stolen moment of both hers and Kaelypso’s lives, and it burned in her chest like an all-consuming blaze.
The pulse of her goddess power thrummed through her, amplifying her strength.
Rage mixed with vindication became a dangerous thrill. She was finally the one in control, finally the one holding the power she had been denied for so long. Cold certainty settled in her chest, tasting her revenge as it sat in her grasp.
Her other hand walked its fingers along Naerysa’s chest, clawing for the pulse of her heart.
“You took everything. Every life, every dream, every breath and joy we were meant to have…you stole them.” The words left Esmyra, but they echoed with Kaelypso’s voice as they condemned their twins together. “And now, both you and Syrena will pay.”
As one hand remained at Naerysa’s throat, the other hovered above her chest for only a moment before plunging through cloth, flesh, and bone.
Her grip was iron, lightning crawling from her fingertips into her sister’s skin.
The magic flared white-hot between them, seeking the pulse of the goddess’s heart.
The moon burned above, the tower shuddered below, and in that instant, it was as if the world itself held its breath.
Naerysa thrashed beneath her, nails clawing at Esmyra’s wrist as her face contorted in horror.
The usual veil of smug arrogance was gone, stripped away in an instant, leaving behind only raw fear.
Her amber eyes that once gleamed with cruel delight were now widened in disbelief, the reflection of the Blood Moon casting them in a frantic, desperate light.
A strangled scream tore from Naerysa, ragged and panicked as it echoed through the crumbling throne room, realizing that her stolen power and wicked games meant nothing in this moment.
For the first time, the Goddess of the Surface looked helpless, and Esmyra felt a thrill roil through her as Kaelypso reveled in it.
Naerysa’s lips moved, strangled words bubbling from her throat as her claws dug deeper. The sound was garbled and broken, too faint to catch over the roaring chaos surrounding them.
Esmyra’s brows furrowed, her voice cutting sharp as a blade. “It’s too late for words, Sister. Nothing will save you now,” she finished as she felt their heart within her grasp.
But then, instead of fighting back, Naerysa’s lips curled into a cruel, bloodied smile. Her eyes glittered with a shard of triumph even through the terror. “If I fall,” she rasped, “then your beloved burns with me.”
Esmyra’s eyes flared, her head whipping around instinctively as her heart plummeted.
Amidst the madness, Azarian stood, his battered armor glinting dully in the red, blazing light, as a weapon was raised. Her eyes trailed up the spear’s shaft, and horror seized her as its velsinyte tip gleamed—aimed directly at Draevyn’s unguarded back.
Her breath caught, time fractured, and the sounds of the battle dimmed as it all became drowned beneath the thunder of her pulse.
No. Not him. Anyone but him.
Esmyra had single-handedly fought kingdoms and armies. She had risen from death and storm and carved her vengeance from the bones of a past life.
But the thought of Draevyn’s body crumpling before her, of his fire being snuffed out by that cursed shard was unbearable. And if there would come a time where he fell, then she would go with him.
She vowed today would not be that day.
Her sister’s life was in her hands, victory squeezing within her grasp, but none of it mattered. Not vengeance. Not the kingdom. Not even the godhood that thrummed in her veins.
Because Esmyra’s choice had been made, carved into the marrow of her soul the moment his fire met her storm.
And her choice would always be him. Even if it meant everything else burned.
The world fractured into pieces as Azarian began closing in on Draevyn, each stride carrying the velsinyte shard she brought here closer to its mark.
“Irah didn’t save me,” Kaelypso started, making tears sting the back of her eyes, “but we can save Draevyn.”
Esmyra’s heart twisted violently, and her body moved before her mind could catch up.
With a desperate snarl, she shoved Syrena away. Her sister’s shriek tore through the collapsing chamber as she was hurled aside, tumbling down the jagged slope of broken stone. But Esmyra barely spared her a glance, only witnessing her plummet out of the corner of her eye.
Because all her focus was locked on Draevyn.
Her power unfurled, propelling her forward. Every detail of her surroundings turned sharp and merciless: the crimson glow of the moon bleeding through the fractured ceiling, the gleam of the shard’s deadly point, the broad span of Draevyn’s back, unaware of death stalking him.
“DRAEVYN!” His name ripped from her throat in a raw and desperate scream.
He whirled around, those whiskey eyes widening the instant they landed on her, on the terror she knew was etched into her face.
The distance between them shrank and stretched all at once in a cruel distortion of time.
Her bare feet skimmed the rubble as if the ground barely existed, each stride weightless and driven by desperation alone.
Her hair whipped back in the wind, strands catching the light like threads of silver flame.
Esmyra’s hands snapped forward, lightning sparking violently at her fingertips as she aimed for Azarian’s heart. The bolt shrieked across the air, only to collide with a wall of solar heat as Naerysa’s power blocked her strike.
The force of it nearly made her stumble as her sister’s laughter echoed like shattered glass in her ears.
No time. No second chance. No fucking mercy.
Esmyra’s throat burned as she screamed, the shard lifting higher, gleaming like a sliver of death.
And then she leapt.