Not only was revenge sealed, but a prophecy was fulfilled.
And Tolek, without a hint of myth magic in his blood and with only pure determination and one sure, vengeance-seeking throw, severed bargains centuries in the making.
Chapter Seventy-Five
Ophelia
The thudof Ritalia’s body hitting the floor of the cavern echoed. Not soft, like Lyria’s slow melting to her knees, like Tolek’s cracking facade as he realized what happened and caught her. Not that heartrending but natural return to the Spirit Realm of a warrior who didn’t deserve to die but did so peacefully.
The queen of the fae fell with a finality that seemed to blur sound and motion.
And a heartbeat later, the remaining fae began to scream. Everything rushed back, like time catching up. They clutched their chests, their heads. Some fell to their knees and writhed. As if in their queen’s death, something inside of them had severed.
The bargains, I realized. Every one she held was snapping.
“Tol!” I gasped, all care of the emblems fleeing my mind as I raced to him and pulled him around to the front of the statue where we could have some privacy in the crescent of the Angels.
He stood panting, chest heaving and eyes in the direction the queen had fallen. Gently, I cupped his cheeks, turning his face to me to catch his wild, haunted stare.
“Tolek,” I murmured softly.
“Ophelia,” he said back, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t Tolek’s warm, charismatic tone saying my name. Not the adoration layered with teasing.
It was dark and twisted, twin to the vacant stare in his dulled chocolate eyes.
“Ophelia,” he repeated. And as his arms looped around my waist and his head fell to my shoulder, there was something in his tone I recognized, warped as it was: pure desperation. That feeling of being so untethered by a loss that you were grasping for something—anything—to tie yourself down.
I’d never heard it quite like this from him, with a fresh-blooming grief filling in the silence between his breaths, but he clung to me like roots gripping the soil. Like something needed to sustain life.
“I’m so sorry, Tol,” I murmured, holding him tighter to remind him I was here for him. Lyria’s loss was heavy—she wasn’t only Tolek’s sister, but my friend. An advisor, a comforting spirit among us. Someone who made rooms warmer and days brighter.
And now, she was gone. My heart split for her.
“I had to do it.” He inhaled raggedly, tears staining my skin, etching paths through the dirt and sweat. “She had to die.”
“I know,” I assured him, my own voice cracking. “I know.” I would have done the same thing if it had been Jezebel. Would kill anyone who hurt her. I’d have done it for Lyria, too.
Guilt wedged itself between my ribs. A thick reminder that it had beenmeLyria was guarding. Another life lost to save mine. It was a pain so sharp and distinct, it carved a spot beside everything else that had been taken from us. My father, countless friends.
But I wouldn’t indulge it now. That would come later, after we got out of here and could fully process the cost.
Now, though, Tolek needed me.
I bunched one hand in his leathers, the other stroking his hair, and I held him. The boy who had radiated hope our entire lives, my guiding light on all those dark nights. He’d had many of his own, but this one…this one dug its claws in the deepest.
I held him through it.
I couldn’t even focus on what was happening around us. Didn’t know if anyone was still fighting. All I cared about was Tol, our hearts beating in sync and breathing ragged.
Turning his face into my neck, Tolek curved his arms tighter around my back, and he whispered, “I want you to finish this.”
I pulled back, cupping his cheeks and guiding his face up to look into his eyes. “What?”
“The emblems.” He inhaled. “I want you to finish what we started. Lyria—she wanted you to do this.”
Finish this, she had said. Right after ensuring I’d care for her brother. And dammit, I’d honor Lyria’s spirit any way I could.
As soon as she’d stopped breathing, Tolek had turned to me and commanded,Go.
