Epilogue
LUCIEN
Istep into the White Vault, aware that the meeting should already be underway. My throne sits empty, as it should, but the northern seat is vacant too. In the distance, I see guards leading someone down the back corridor.
“What’s going on?” My voice cuts through the hall.
“He’s being escorted out. He will no longer be part of this Order,” Marra replies, just as the elders rise from their seats.
“What do you mean?” I demand, sharper than I intend. I stride toward the sanctum’s exit, where the guards are ushering Aris away.
“Aris’s involvement in the High Order ends today, Lucien,” Orren calls out from across the room, his tone steeped in contempt. “And frankly, I couldn’t be more elated.”
Though my confusion lingers, the edge of a smile finds its way to my lips.
“Guards, give me a moment,” I command, my gaze locking onto the man who has despised me all my life—simply because I was born what he was not. Royal.
Aris’s eyes meet mine, that familiar hatred burning in them. “I suppose watching me being escorted out gives you some satisfaction, doesn’t it, Lucien?” His voice drips with venom.
Before I can think, my fist meets his nose, the crunch of bone echoing off the walls and giving me more pleasure than the punch itself.
Aris’s head snaps back, the force of the blow overwhelming.
He immediately grabs at his face to control the spray, blood rushing down in a stream and dripping onto the floor.
I stare him down, fury rising in my chest. The guards hesitate, uncertain of who outranks whom, their hands shifting between us. In the end, they make the wiser choice and restrain Aris before he can move.
“I don’t need my rank or my powers to bring you to your knees, Aris,” I say, my voice cold as a smile curves across my lips. “I can do that all on my own.”
He chuckles, blood staining his teeth as he nods. “It seems the boy playing Gatekeeper is finally stepping into the role. Bravo, Lucien. Perhaps you’re not the spineless royal I thought you were.”
“So if I haven’t exposed your crimes, why are you being thrown out?” I spit. “Not that it’s the wrong choice—though it doesn’t matter, since I’m looking forward to putting you on trial.”
Aris’s laugh cuts through the room. A sick, manic sound. Then he speaks directly into my mind.
That’s exactly it, Lucien. You could never outsmart me. It’s a pity they handed you the Gatekeeper role. I dread what’ll become of Pomerium. Lucky for me, I won’t be here to watch it fall.
The guards seize him and drag him away. I glance back, and only Zalga and Orren remain.
Zalga moves toward me.
“What’s this about?” I demand, my eyes trained on her.
“I take it you’ve heard of his . . . treachery. The lies. His plot against Chloe.”
Her words freeze me in place.
“I have. But how do you know of it?” I ask, startled. The Order is already aware of Aris’s betrayal.
“His hatred for you knows no bounds, Lucien,” Orren comments, walking toward the exit. “He knew it was only a matter of time before his actions were discovered. But before it ended, he wanted one last strike at your happiness. A cruel farewell.”
He gives a nod and leaves.
Confusion churns inside me. “Zalga, what does he mean?”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping from mine, uncomfortable now. “It was Aris who told us,” she says. “He came to the High Order himself earlier today and confessed his plan to kill Chloe.”
I shake my head, not understanding. “That doesn’t make sense.”
But she interrupts, firm. “It makes perfect sense, Lucien.” A slow breath escapes her. “When he devised the plan, he didn’t know about Chloe’s . . . bloodline.” The last word is a whisper, as if saying it aloud might summon something cursed.
“He told us everything. Said the plot was only meant as leverage, to force Alistir’s return. That he never intended to follow through. But things moved too quickly. Signals were missed. He couldn’t stop it in time.”
I look at her, searching for any sign she believes he had a change of heart. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”
She sighs, resigned. “Of course. But lie or not, he confessed. And more than that, he told the Order the truth about Chloe. That she’s half Surger.”
Rage brews within me—hot, coiling, relentless. So this is it. The reason he confessed.
“He accepted his banishment from Imperium as a mercy,” Zalga says quietly, “for confessing his crimes. But he made certain Chloe could never live here. Because of who she is. Our kind will never accept a Surger. Nor would your . . . union be accepted. And he knew that revealing that very fact to them would wound you far more than any blade could. The Order has voted against accepting her.”
Her eyes dart away from mine, discomfort plain as she delivers the news.
Anger nearly spills out of me. “He’s a coward,” I grit out. “Hiding behind my back instead of confronting me properly. Battling me the proper way. So now there’s no hearing of his crimes. No repercussions for what he’s done?”
Something flickers across her face.
“If I know anything about my father, it’s that he holds grudges,” she says.
“Take your place here, Lucien, and protect the other realm you hold dear from afar. I promise you and Aris will meet again. This entire scheme is proof he’s plotting something.
Stay vigilant. I doubt this is the last time either of us will cross his vindictive path. Take your vengeance then.”
I see what this costs her. It doesn’t sit right with me, putting her in this position, but I can’t keep living my life at his mercy either.
“So that’s it?” Fury claws at my chest. “If she won’t be accepted here, then I’ll go to her,” I snap. “I’ll live with her—in her realm.”
Zalga’s gaze sharpens. “And forsake your title as the Seventh? Abandon your beings once again? You already risked your station protecting her from threats within the Order; will you do the same against forces beyond it?”
I glare back at her, cold and unflinching.
“I am not your enemy, Lucien,” she says softly. “I would spare you this pain if I could. But the mortal realm is not Chloe’s. It never was. She is a Warper. A Surger. If she is not welcome here, her own kind will come for her. They will reclaim what is theirs.”
Her voice falters, a hint of sorrow threading through it. “I take no pleasure in this, my dear Lucien. My heart has always been yours. You know this. But I’ve learned that sometimes love means letting go to protect what we cherish most. We don’t all get the fairy-tale ending.”
I meet her eyes, my voice a low vow. “I will not live without her.”
Zalga’s expression softens, pained.
“And yet, in trying to hold on, you may only tighten the noose around her. You may bring the very danger you seek to save her from. And then you will live without her, Lucien. Forever.”
She hesitates, sorrow flickering in her eyes, then slowly turns toward the door.
“You are a Warper. We entrusted you to be the Gatekeeper of our realm. This is a position you chose to fulfill. Use the power you’ve fought so hard for, Lucien.
The High Order has ruled against Chloe—for now.
You know the politics of this realm better than anyone.
If you disagree with the decision, then you should lead this realm and change the prejudice from within.
I truly hope, when the time comes, that you make the right choice,” she pleads, her voice tight with urgency.
Without a backward glance, she steps out.
And then she’s gone.