Azrael is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Marblas. I don’t have time to assess anything. I can only react. Overhead, a beam creaks and groans as the fire crackles and pops. I bolt for the nearest opening without looking back, dodging equipment and weaving through the crowd until I burst free into the emptiness of the night. The world spins as the breeze blows billowing around me, sweeping it into itself—and then the Present appears.
“You must be strong enough to save yourself. Azrael needs a mate, a match made to complement him. Where he is hard, you are soft. Where he is dark, you are the light. You will rule beside him, just and fair. When he calls, you will answer. When you rise, so will he. Together you will conquer all,” she howls.
I shiver. “Did I pass this test?”
“Silence. You may not ask questions, “ she shouts. “Answer my question: will you lose more of yourself?”
“Yes,” I respond immediately. “I’m willing to give up anything to return to Azrael, even if it means giving up more of who I am.”
The Present flickers into nothing as the dreamscape crumbles, revealing another. I think this means I passed. I take a deep breath and wait for the Future to appear.
When the lights flicker, illuminating the new dreamscape, the Future stands next to a bone-carved pedestal etched with pulsating runes that vine over it.
“The Past has tested your heart, the Present your strength. The Future will demand your sacrifice. Take your place in front of the sacred pedestal. You will make your final choice,” her voice ritualistic and emotionless.
I approach the carved bone in the center of the room where we stand. The Future reaches into a satchel with wispy fingers and takes a handful of something, walking around me to sprinkle a salt circle, trapping me where I stand.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You must not ask questions, Mercy. You only have enough blood to satisfy one sacrifice. Do not waste it on me.”
I clamp my mouth shut as a sinking feeling fills my chest once more. As soon as she closes the circle, black flames erupt from the salt. Panic rushes through me.
“To walk beside him is to walk into war. Into unmaking. Into destiny,” the Future says. “If you wish to stay, you must swear your vow. And you must bleed every word.”
The air thickens as magic thrums. My body trembles, but I refuse to be afraid.
“Place your hands, palm up, on the pedestal,” The Fate commands.
I obey. Shadows climb up the glowing runes, wrapping around my hands and arms, binding them in place. Once secured, she steps through the fire, holding a gleaming black-metal blade. In an instant, she slices across both wrists.
Blood pours down the pedestal, and the shadows converge, devouring it, growing thicker and fuller as more flows. Pain sears through me, cutting into my soul, echoing through this strange body.
“Speak the vow,” the Future instructs.
I don’t know the vows, but then suddenly they’re there, as if I’ve known them all along. I wet my dry lips and whisper through my mind:
“I vow to walk beside him. Through the end of the world, through ruin, through hellfire. Not to change him, but to be changed. I vow to shield him. To guard his soul. Even if mine shatters.” With each word, the ruins glow brighter, breaking free of the shadows that ensnare them.
My body shakes as blood trickles from my mouth and nose.Is this the end?Have I failed?The shadows holding me in place vanish, and the flames surrounding me grow taller.
“Walk through the flames, Mercy. Burn for him. The world doesn’t deserve mercy.” The Future instructs, her voice far away, fading as darkness presses the edge of my vision.
I wobble, knees shaking, and step into the flames.
Instead of burning agony and pain, the fire is soft, welcoming. It laps over me, filling me with immeasurable strength, flame, and a trickle of golden magic I don’t understand.
“A gift,” the Future whispers, still far away.
The flames lick over me, and I welcome them until my body grows numb and darkness takes me.
A rumbling voice booms all around me: “You love him. But love is not enough. You may have him, but not as you are. Only as fate has yet to make of you. Will you surrender so that fate may reshape you into what he needs, not what you wish to be?”
“Yes,” I rasp.
“In order to fall, to truly be his and complete the blood ceremony, you must commit a sin. You must take a life to sacrifice in place of your own. Any life of your choosing. You have one day to complete the task. If you truly wish to becomethe embodiment of his mate and receive your gifts, you must act swiftly.”
I open my mouth to speak, but find I cannot. Whoever—or whatever—owns this voice silences me.
