Tears streaked her face as the memory tore through her. A woman crowned in flame, holding the Heartblade high as her people screamed. Shadows closed in. The Hollow had broken through. And to seal it, she had done the unthinkable.
She had killed her mate.
Not for power.Not even for peace. But to bind the blade. To feed it with something the Hollow couldn’t mimic—love willingly given up.And with that death, the Heartblade had sealed the breach. Temporarily.
Because love, even sacrificed, couldn’t last forever. Seraphine came back to herself with a cry.
Cassian was at her side in an instant.
“What did you see?” he asked, voice low.
She clutched the shard to her chest. “The truth.”
The six shards laid in a circle now—each pulsing with the blood, fire, and sacrifice that had brought them this far.
The Heartblade was more than a weapon. It was a tombstone. A promise. A curse.
Seraphine stood at its center, blade fragments ringing her feet, whispering.
“I need fire,” she said. “And shadow.”
Cassian stepped beside her, silent.
They didn’t speak as they pressed palms together—his lit with stormfire and shadow, hers glowing with Whitefire laced in blood.
The shards rose. Spinning. Singing.
The forge lit itself—a column of pure, blinding magic erupting from the circle’s heart.
When the storm cleared, the Heartblade hovered between them.
Whole. Terrible. Alive.
Seraphine reached for it. The moment her fingers touched the hilt, she saw her own face reflected in the polished edge.
But it wasn’t her. It was the First Queen. And the message in her eyes was clear:
You will pay what I paid.
The blade burned in her grip. And Seraphine clung to it like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. Even if the message made her realize that she couldn’t cheat fate.
“We’re not done,” she whispered to Cassian. “But we’re close.”
He nodded.
The Hollow, wherever it waited, shuddered.
THIRTY
CASSIAN
Cassian couldn’t feel the last shard. And it wasdriving him insane.
Seraphine kept looking at him like he was supposed toknow—like he’d done it before, so why the hell couldn’t he do it now?
He stood near theclearing where they’d camped, boots buried in ash, eyes scanning a horizon that didn’t have answers. Wind tugged at the edges of his coat. The Heartblade was sheathed at his back, a heartbeat against his spine. Whole. Burning. Waiting.
But it wasn’t finished. And neither was he.
