Ahead of him was the Heartblade—whole. Forged.
Seraphine knelt beside it, blood streaming from her hands.
The Hollow surged behind her like a tidal wave of memory.
Cassian… He was ash.
A voice whispered:“The blade seals the gate. But only when lit by sacrifice. Fire must die for memory to live.”
Silence.
He came back gasping. Cold sweat slicked his back. His palms bled where his nails had dug into them.
He didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. He just sat there, eyes hollow, staring into the dark. Because now he knew.
To stop the Hollow… He would have to die.
Seraphine could never know.
Not while she still looked at him like he was more than a weapon. Not while he still needed her to believe there was another way. Because no matter how bitter he was right now, he knew there was something more between them. And she… She wouldn’t let what needed to happen just happen.
So he picked himself up and mad his camp like he hadn’t just seen his own end.
NINETEEN
SERAPHINE
The fire burned low that night.
It wasn’t just the kindling that struggled—it was the space between them all, pulled taut and brittle like a blade waiting to snap.
Cassian hadn’t spoken since the fight. Hadn’t looked at her, either.
He sat on the outskirts of the camp, a shadow lit faintly by firelight, his back to the others. As though if he didn’t see them, they didn’t have to see what he’d become.
Whatshehad known he might be.
The others had said nothing. No one knew what to say. Lira and Brann made quiet, awkward talk. Alek stood watch, but even he cast glances at the man in the dark.
As for Seraphine?
She sat alone with the weight of too many truths pressed into her spine.
She hadn't meant to hurt him. But she had.
Now she wasn’t sure if what they had could survive the storm coming for them both.
She foundhim near the path just after midnight.
The forest behind them rustled with whispering leaves and unseen things. The ruins of Skyforged loomed ahead, carved into the mountains like the ribs of a buried god.
Cassian didn’t move as she approached.
“Come to finish the argument?” he said, not turning.
“No.” Her voice was soft. Tired. “I came to say I’m sorry.”
He looked over his shoulder, brow raised. “That’s new.”
