Grim kept Isla in the dark. He didn’t let her in on his plan ... he made all these decisionsforher.
He underestimated her.
Aurora underestimated her.
But they’re going to learn. I watch them learn, as Isla manages to escape. But then ... she does the unthinkable. She returns, with armor and blades.
She doesn’t have many reasons to care about us, or this island. Still—she returned. I’m both relieved and horrified. Her face is set in determination, the fire in those green eyesblazing.
She is blazing.
She is magnificent.
Aurora tries to cage her, but that cage shatters.
And Isla wields the heart of Lightlark. Somehow, she’susingit. She takes off toward Aurora, not wasting a second, the needle, the bondmakerthat transfers power, in her hand now. Aurora wasn’t expecting any of this.
Her features morph and twist, transforming back to Celeste.
Don’t trust her, I want to scream to Isla.
She doesn’t.Of course she doesn’t. Isla doesn’t hesitate before stabbing the woman she thought was her friend—right in the heart.
Then, the island shatters.
The world slows. I watch Isla be thrown back with the force of the curses being broken, the original offense committed again. I watch as the floor in the Place of Mirrors fractures in half.
I watch as Celeste’s body falls through the gap.
And Isla’s follows it.
No.
All the anguish from hours before, losing her that first time—it rises to the surface. My blood roars.
The vines around us have gone slack. Grim and I rush toward Isla. But it’s too late.
Only Wildling power works here.
Her screams echo through my head, just like her singing did.
I’ve never known fear.
I’ve never known panic.
I’ve never known love.
I’ve never known any of these emotions, not really, I know that for certain when they all hit me at once, in their full capacity.
I’ve never known them, because I’ve never known her.
This can’t end. No. Love like this is endless.
Through the splitting glass and roaring, I reach my hand out, reaching toward her, throwing every broken and mended piece of me through the world, ready to fall in after her, if only for the small chance I might save us both—
And I feel something.
A tether, tying us together.
