The last piece of the Heartblade.
Cassian staggered back a step. “What the hell—how?—”
“My family,” Roen said quietly. “We weren’t just smugglers. We were Watchers. Keepers of things that shouldn’t be forgotten. One shard. One bloodline. We’ve been waiting generations for the stormborn to rise.”
Cassian’s breath caught. “And you gave it tohim?”
Roen shook his head hard, eyes glassy. “No. I came here to give it toyou.But I—” His words trembled. “I took too long.”
Cassian’s hand twitched toward the shard.
That was when the shadows behind Roen thickened. Moved.
Cassian’s instincts screamed too late.
Mirael emerged like smoke with bones. Not walking. Not floating.Unfolding.Her Hollow-born form wavered betweenbeautiful and monstrous, the ruin of something once divine. Her eyes were pits—hungry, endless.
Roen turned. Too slow.
She didn’t touch him.
Didn’t raise a hand.
She justlookedat him.
Roen’s body went still—then limp. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped to his knees like a puppet with its strings cut.
Not dead or hurt.
Just… emptied.
“Roen!” Cassian lunged, fire leaping from his palms.
Mirael caught him mid-charge with a flick of her fingers.
Magic—wrongmagic—wrapped around his ribs like barbed wire. His breath left him in a wheeze. Her claws brushed his jaw, and the chill of her magic raced through his veins.
“Hello again, stormborn,” she purred.
He snarled, struggling against the binding. “You think you can take me again?”
She tilted her head. “Oh, Cassian. I’m not here totakeyou.”
Her other hand reached for the shard Roen had dropped.
“I’m here tocompleteyou.”
Her magic slammed into his chest. Deep. Sharp. It didn’t just burn—itremembered.Every death. Every life. Everylie.
He gasped.
The darkness then came.
He saw Seraphine—sleeping by the fire. The ember in her palm. The way she’d looked at him like he was worth saving.
He tried to speak her name.
But the Hollow swallowed it.
