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at his fingertips. The flames crawled up Zeryth’s clothing.

But Zeryth just smiled.

He lunged again.

His magic was even stronger, this time, knocking the breath from my lungs. Max fought back, fire swelling. He was a good fighter. Zeryth’s magic was strong but his body was a shadow of what it once had been.

But that magic —

Another burst of it had Max on the ground again. This time he was slower to rally.

Zeryth would kill him.

I needed to do something.

But the pact hobbled me. Everything in me roared to comply — to serve Zeryth’s commands. To protect him.

My blood pact. Mine… but…perhaps…

An idea bloomed out of nothing but desperation.

Reshaye. Help me. The pact that binds me is mine, not yours. Together, we can stop this.

Reshaye examined my panic. And then it said, coldly, {Why?}

Max was on the ground. Fire thickened the air, and it was thickened more by Zeryth’s magic. And Zeryth just kept coming.

{Perhaps he deserves this. He abandoned me.}

My hatred bubbled over.

You are a monster. Is that all you think about? The people who have wronged you?

Reshaye snarled. {You know nothing about what I have suffered.}

You are with me because I know EVERYTHING about what you have suffered!

My memories assaulted us. Esmaris’s hands on my skin. His whip at my back. The betrayal, in my heart and in his. My blood on Zeryth’s contract.

{I loved him and he left me. Even after I gave him everything that I had to offer. Just as they always do. Just as you will.}

This anger is not love. Love is selfless. And I think you knew that, once. I think the part of you that I saw that day at the Mikov estate understood.

Another strike. Max was on his knees, swaying. Everything was fire and shadow. How many blows did Max have left in him?

I wouldn’t let this happen. Every muscle in my body strained. Reshaye examined my desperation, confused.

{Your life is bound to Zeryth’s. And you still would act against him? Even if it meant sacrificing your life?}

Max’s eyes flicked to me. He would not kill Zeryth, not if there was even a chance it would result in my death. But Zeryth would kill Max. He would kill thousands more. He would never stop.

I did not need to answer.

{I see,} Reshaye said, with an odd calm.

Something clicked into place.

It happened fast. I lifted my hand. Magic sparked at my skin. Zeryth was yanked across the room, his body colliding with mine. Together, we fell to the ground.

At first, Zeryth’s gaunt face was dark with fury. He collapsed on top of me, a snarl on his lips, so close he could have kissed me. Reshaye’s smile seeped across my face slowly.

“You are right, foolish king,” my voice whispered, my accent gone.

Zeryth’s rage gave way to confusion, gave way to pain, gave way to fear.

Fear, as he realized that my blade was buried between his ribs.

Reshaye caressed his face like a lover. Decay trailed my fingertips, consuming skin, muscle, bone.

“You were naive,” I purred.

I felt one beautiful moment of satisfaction as I watched Zeryth die. And I thought that maybe, he really had been bluffing about the extent of his power — maybe the curse that bound my life to his was a lie, all along.

My eyes found Max’s as he struggled to his feet. He looked terrified.

It’s alright, I wanted to tell him. I’m fine. See?

But then something grabbed me, like a monster reaching up from beneath the sea to drag me down.

Less than a second, and I was gone.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Aefe

“They will not help us,” Siobhan said, pacing the length of the room. “We should move on immediately. The less time we remain here, the better.”

We gathered in the sitting room of the guest suite that Ezra and Athalena had given us. The windows spanned the length of the room, its frame covered in winding ivy, overlooking the city of Niraja and a star-scattered sky. A beautiful view, though none of us took the time to appreciate it.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Ishqa said. “They are clearly not cooperative to our cause.”

Caduan frowns. “I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” he said, and Ashraia let out a scoff, throwing his hands up.

“Of course it is. Why are we surprised by this? A bunch of heretic half-breeds wouldn’t understand or care about our plight.”

“But they know why this is happening,” I said. “I know they do. Did you see Athalena’s face? She knew something. It was Ezra who didn’t want to talk.”

“Can we blame him?” Siobhan muttered, and Ishqa let out a small noise of agreement, one that was almost a wry laugh.

She was right. I couldn’t bring myself to think of Ezra and Athalena’s family as — as Ashraia had put it — “heretic half-breeds,” but it was undeniable that they had little reason to help us. A knot of guilt that I couldn’t quite untangle formed in my stomach. Perhaps it had been foolish to come here, and the sooner we left, the less chance we had of our ill-judgement being discovered.

“We gave up a lot to come here,” I muttered. “I hate to waste it.”

I wandered to the window and looked out. The city cascaded below us in steps, the flickering lights of lanterns illuminating windows and moving figures in the streets below. If I looked closely, I could still see people laughing and chatting in the streets below. In one of the nearby balconies, I watched two old men smoke pipes and drink wine.

“It’s different here,” I murmured, “than I thought it would be. It’s…”

“Nicer,” Caduan said.

I shot him a curious glance. All day, I had been watching him, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come. “I thought it would be hard for you to come here. To see all these humans.”

“Don’t you hate them?” Siobhan asked, quietly.

Caduan’s eyes did not leave the window.

“I thought I would. But I got here and...” He gestured to the scene outside. “I look at this, and I see a world absent

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