Chapter 73 Make Heartfelt Declarations
(Now That the Apocalypse Is Underway)
Kazimir
The portal spat us out in the Old Keep like the universe itself was rejecting what I’d done.
I hit the floor hard, Sebastian’s weight dragging me down.
He collapsed beside me, clutching his bandaged arm.
His breathing was shallow, and his skin had taken on a waxy, gray pallor.
Blood had soaked through the makeshift binding, spreading across my torn shirt.
The metallic scent filled my nostrils, mixing with the dust and old magic of the tower.
But I barely noticed any of it.
Because I could feel Arabella again.
She floated in the center of Griffin’s containment matrix, suspended in a web of golden light.
Her eyes were closed, body perfectly still in the magical stasis I’d forced on her.
But the connection between us, that bond forged by blood and magic and love, sang with life.
It thrummed with her fierce presence—no foreign consciousness, no ancient evil wearing her skin.
Just Arabella. Exhausted, battered by her internal battle, but her.
The Shadow King was gone.
I scrambled to my feet, nearly tripping over the Alchemist’s unconscious form. They’d fallen asleep propped in a chair, a half-empty vial of something glowing faintly blue clutched in their hand. Probably exhausted from maintaining whatever wards they’d added to Griffin’s work.
I crossed to the matrix in three strides and began dismantling Griffin’s handiwork.
The enchanter had outdone himself—layers upon layers of protective circles, stabilization runes, and power dampeners.
But I knew every symbol Griffin had ever learned, every configuration he favored.
The matrix unraveled at my touch, dissolving into motes of fading light.
Arabella hung suspended in midair for a heartbeat before I caught her, her body limp but warm in my arms as we sank to the floor.
The Heirloom still crowned her head, but its energy was clean now—pure without a trace of corruption.
Just as it had been before Auremar’s death had torn everything apart.
My hands trembled as I pressed them to her temples, feeding dominion magic into the stasis I’d created. Layer by layer, I peeled back the compulsions, the forced sleep, the magical chains I’d wrapped around her mind.
Come back to me.
Arabella gasped, her whole body convulsing as consciousness returned. Her eyelids fluttered. Once. Twice. Then those hazel eyes opened, focused, and locked onto mine.
“Kaz?” Her voice was hoarse, weak, but utterly her.
“You’re safe.” The relief that crashed through me was almost painful. “He’s gone. The Shadow King is—”
A cough from behind made me turn. Sebastian had managed to prop himself against the wall, but fresh blood was spreading across the stones beneath him. Too much blood. Far too much.
“Shit.” I started to rise, but Arabella’s hand caught my wrist.
“What happened to him?” She struggled to sit up, gaze sharpening as she took in Sebastian’s condition. “Why is he—”
“Amaryska.” I helped Arabella to her feet, steadying her when she swayed. “She poisoned the blade she used on him for the blood sacrifice. I was so focused on—I didn’t check for her tricks.”
Arabella stumbled over, dropping to her knees beside Sebastian. I tore open his shirtsleeve. The wound was worse than I’d thought—not just deep, but already showing signs of corruption. Black veins spider-webbed from the cut, creeping up Sebastian’s arm.
“Tell me what happened,” she said without looking up.
Golden light sputtered from her palms, then flared as she pulled power through the Heirloom.
Her magic poured into him, battling the spreading poison.
Sebastian’s back arched, a strangled sound escaping his throat.
Flowers burst from every crack in the floor—morning glories, their blue petals unfurling in defiance of the chamber’s darkness.
“I remember the Shadow King wanting freedom, but after you put me in that stasis—”
“I found Amaryska at Sunspire.” The words tasted bitter. “She knew about the Shadow King for a long time. She’d been working with Auremar to weaken the prison, but for her own reasons. She wanted chaos, destruction, the unmaking of the world that had wronged her.”
Arabella’s hands stilled for just a moment before resuming their work. “And Sebastian?”
“He volunteered.” The black veins retreated slowly, grudgingly. I watched the color slowly return to Sebastian’s face as Arabella’s magic neutralized the poison. “The ritual to free the Shadow King required willing heroic blood. He didn’t even hesitate.”
“Of course he didn’t.” Something in her voice made me look closer. Not surprise—resignation. As if she’d expected nothing less from him. “He never could stand by when someone needed help.”
“He loves you.” The words escaped before I could stop them.
Arabella’s hands paused again, longer this time. “Kaz—”
“I’m not blind. Or stupid. Usually.” I crouched beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her magic. “He sacrificed himself to save you. That’s not something you do for casual friendship.”
She finally looked at me. “That’s not—he doesn’t—”
“He does.”
She was quiet for a long moment, studying Sebastian’s unconscious face. I watched emotions flicker across her features—surprise, confusion, a touch of sadness.
“I don’t love him,” she said finally. The wound began to close, flesh knitting together under her touch. “Not like that. He’s my friend, my childhood companion, but I—” She shook her head and looked up at me, her gaze sweeping over my face and then down to the blood on my torn shirt.
“You’re alive,” Sebastian said.
Arabella and I looked down.
His eyes were open, looking at Arabella. “You’re you.”
“Thanks to you, apparently.” She sealed the cut with a final pulse of magic, then leaned back on her heels. “That was incredibly stupid, Sebastian. Noble, but stupid.”
He managed a weak smile, then noticed me watching. “The ritual worked, I take it?”
“Spectacularly.” I helped him sit up against the wall. “The Shadow King is free, Amaryska is dead—crushed by the ceiling when the chamber collapsed—and we’re all probably doomed.”
“Ah.” Sebastian closed his eyes again. “At least Arabella’s safe.”
There it was again—that note in his voice that spoke of feelings deeper than friendship. But before I could address it, Arabella’s expression shifted, the full weight of our situation crashing down on her.
“The Shadow King is free.” She said it slowly, as if testing the words. “Actually free. Not bound, not contained, just… out there.”
“Yes.”
She finally looked at me. Really looked at me, those hazel eyes seeing straight through to the guilty, desperate core of me. “And you didn’t hesitate.”
I met her gaze steadily. “Not for a second.”
I braced for anger. For recriminations about the choice I’d made, the evil I’d unleashed to save her. Instead, she met my eyes with perfect understanding.
“I would have done the same thing,” she said quietly.
A pleasant ache began in my chest, and I sank to my knees on the stone floor. “Arabella—”
“No, listen.” She moved closer, leaving Sebastian propped against the wall.
Morning glories were still blooming around him, which probably meant he was fine.
“I know what you did. I know what it cost. If our positions were reversed, I’d have torn the world apart to free you.
I’d have made any bargain, freed any evil, burned any bridge.
So I can’t—I won’t blame you for doing the same. ”
My throat tightened. We were terrible people, selfish and shortsighted and willing to damn everyone else for each other. I guess that’s what made us villains.
“There’s more.” I ran a hand through my sweaty hair. “Something I should have told you weeks ago.”
She waited.
“The Shadow King—he’s not just some external threat. He’s been inside me all along. A piece of him, anyway. I’m his vessel, his reincarnation. Whatever you want to call it, I’ve been carrying his consciousness since birth.”
The Shadow King had already told me Arabella knew, but it was my responsibility to tell her myself. I still half expected anger at another secret kept.
Instead, she smiled. It was tired and sad and knowing all at once. “I know.”
I blinked, certain I hadn’t heard correctly. “And you weren’t terrified? Angry that I didn’t tell you?”
“No.” She took my hands. “The Shadow King wasn’t lying. I did see the vision, Kaz. All of it. Your connection to him, the way he’s been trying to claw his way into your thoughts.
I couldn’t do anything but stare in shock as she touched my beard.
“All these weeks, I’ve watched you choose to be better than him. Choose to be you, not the monster he wanted you to become.” She shook her head. “Even at the Gilded Gallows, when his influence was strongest, you fought against it.”
The Gilded Gallows. That disaster felt like a lifetime ago. “I tried to compel you. Take away your choice.”
She shifted closer, and I could feel our bond humming between us, stronger than ever. “I knew the way your control slipped that the rage wasn’t quite yours. And I knew you’d hate yourself for it later, so I let you believe I was just angry about the compulsion itself. I mean, I was, but…”
“This whole time, you knew what I was, and you stayed.”
“Of course I stayed.” She smiled. “You’re not him, Kaz. You’re not some ancient evil wearing human skin. You’re the man who kidnapped me and then let me negotiate terms. The man who gave me a shadow dragon and taught me to embrace my power. The man who just unleashed hell itself to save me.”
“So why didn’t you—”
“Because you weren’t ready to hear it. You were barely holding yourself together, fighting a battle I couldn’t help you win. If I’d confronted you about it, you’d have pulled away. Hidden it deeper.”