And after her, it would go on to any Alabath children I bore, if I didn’t die before that time. A mix of Godsblood and Angelblood—something so blessed and so cursed all in one.
I ran my thumb across the glassy edge of Gaveny’s pearl. Watched Angellight reflect off the smooth surface. Behind me, Tolek awaited my decision. And across the cavern, Ritalia’s stare burned into me.
I couldn’t hand this task on to anyone else. If I refused—well, the world was unraveling around us. The magic was poised to burst, to take the seas and the skies.
Remember what your ancestor chose. It wasn’t noble, what he had done. It was greedy.
I couldn’t be as selfish as Annellius.
My gaze lifted to Ritalia again. Was she a foe…or a possible ally? A chance that could get the emblems far, far away from everyone I loved? From our continent?
But while that would be a relief of this responsibility, I couldn’t take it.
Desperation clawed at my chest.Do it, that selfish part of my mind screamed. Assuage yourself of this damn prophecy, banish this curse.
Deep down, though, it was never an option. Not one I’d take. Because though I fought fate at every turn—though I knew I could condemn the Angels—I couldn’t force the pressure of the Angelcurse off my shoulders.
The queen must have detected it, the waver in my mind. The slight, instinctual twitch of a step back toward Gaveny’s statue.
Because with a sharp demand, she shouted, “Hunter!”
“No.” I spun, her words slicing through the cavern as I jammed the pearl of the Angel into his stony arrow and the tide of shimmering, sea-faring power washed through the cavern, abundant and roaring.
But Ritalia continued despite the rocking of the ground, like a determined boat caught on a stormy sea. As I spun back to her with the power of warriors crashing through me, the queen shouted to Lancaster, “Call in your favor.”
And I was pulling Xenique’s orb from my pouch as Lancaster said through gritted teeth, “Ophelia Alabath.” Unwillingly, I froze. “I call in my third owed debt. I demand you stop replacing the emblems into their Angel statues.” His throat bobbed on a swallow. “If you fail to comply, Tolek Vincienzo will die.”
Chapter Seventy
Ophelia
Every facetof my body froze.
Every nerve and drop of cursed blood.
“No,” I gasped, barely audible, eyes meeting Tolek’s. There was an answer in those chocolate depths. One I didn’t want to unravel because to do so would rip my heart right from my chest.
“No!” I shouted to him.
“Ophelia—”
“Don’t you dare say another word, Tolek Vincienzo,” I swore, rushing toward him and fisting his leathers. “It’s not worth it.Nothingis worth you.”
“I told you I’d love you in any realm, Ophelia. That if we were somehow separated on this one, I’d find you.Infinitelydoesn’t end here.”
“It doesn’t end anywhere,” I countered.
He gave me a sad smile. “But some things might have to.”
Angels, my chest was caving in. My lungs tight and breaths short.
Did I ever have a choice in any of this? Or was every day of my life—every moment I spent learning to let myself love him—another game of the deities? That used feeling crawled along my bones like poison ivy, strangling my throat until my eyes stung.
“Ophelia,” Tol coaxed, but all I could do was shake my head and blink back the tears.
I hated this. Hated that he thought this was fair—that he was willing to give up this life together because of the twisted bargains of our past. Hated more than anything the emblems weighing down our lives, dragging us to consider such dark depths.
I never had a say in any of this.
