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You’re my girl, Diem Bellator. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. And I was hoping you would do me the honor...” My mouth went dry. “I care about you, too,” I blurted out. “So, so much. And with so many hard decisions in my life to make right now, I’m so happy that I can be with you and just... relax. Without any pressure.” Shame weighed on my heart. I knew what he was about to say. What he was about to ask.
A gryvern. I’d heard stories of them in school and seen their likeness stitched and carved into various materials around the realm, but to see one with my own eyes felt like walking into the pages of a fairytale.
“I mean you no harm,” I said in a soothing voice, the same one I used on my wildest patients. Slowly, cautiously, I extended a single hand, pulled forward by some unexplainable urge. The creature’s eyes darted to my hand, then back to me. Just as slowly, just as cautiously, its neck arched forward to meet my touch.
“Oh, just taking you would satisfy me enough.” I shot a sympathetic look between his legs. “That must be the first time a woman’s ever told you that.”
Haha
Harder, Your Highness. Wilst thou give me permission to come, Your Highness? Let me kneel for you and show the Prince’s little prince a good time, Your H—
Cackling
And I meant it. Though I couldn’t fathom ever falling for a Descended—I would die before I’d ever allow myself to get caught up with one of them—I would stand by Teller’s side, whatever choice he made. Even if he was rash and foolish and broke all the rules, I would do it, because I knew he would do it for me, too. He always had.
Choose your battles and your enemies with care, my father had said. Well, today I chose this battle. Today I chose this enemy. I would not let one more innocent child perish at the hands of the Descended. And if this is how I had to die, so be it. Fight.
FIGHT. The voice thrashed, no longer asking for release but demanding it—snarling to be unleashed and bring the world to ash.
I was sick of waiting. The time had come to fight. And I was ready.
“At school they said light and shadow work the same, but my magic tutor has both, and she says the shadows are harder to convince into doing what you want them to do. She said the light wants to please its wielder, but the shadows only want to fight.”
But I knew Henri’s heart as well as I knew my own. He would never condone such a thing, and he would certainly never rope me into it, especially unwitting.
“She’s new,” Henri said. “The Father arranged her test, and she’s already passed it. And she brings an offering—a really good one.”
“Really?” My eyebrows lifted. “You said only ‘someone that matters’ can make that call. But when I do finally speak with the Father—” Whoever the hell that is, I thought flatly. “—I’ll be sure to ask him if he got your permission first.”
RIght?! I want to knowwho he is too
But here, I was nothing and no one, a woman they did not know raised by a man they did not trust. To these three strangers, my only worth lay in the scraps of paper in their hands—and
“Then it’s decided,” the Father said. A dark smile curved his lips. “Welcome to the Guardians of the Everflame.”
“I’m not sure. Vance doesn’t share specific details on missions until they’re over. It limits the damage if anyone betrays us.”
Dont tust it
His hands dropped from his chest and hovered in the air by my hips. “May I?” My brows arched. “Now you ask?” “I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t taught to ask for a woman’s consent.”
“No commentary?” he asked, sinking to his knees. “I’m disappointed.”
My brain tried to make sense of the near-miss I’d just stumbled through. Luther knew—I was certain of it. I’d seen the keen awareness in his eyes. The judgment—the warning. And yet... he’d let me go without a word. Why?
At its purest, light can burn through almost anything.”
“Shadows work the same way. Darkness isn’t just the absence of light—it’s the absence of everything. No light, no heat, no air. True darkness can destroy even life itself.”
His lip quirked again—higher this time. “That, Miss Bellator, is why we call it magic.” Despite the mile-long list of reasons I had to hate him, his answer was so unexpected, so uncharacteristically charming, my grin spread from ear to ear.
First I’d stolen key documents from a powerful Descended arms dealer, and now I was roaming freely in the royal palace. Maybe I was born for the life of a Guardian, after all.
“If the others find you before I do, there will only be so much I can do to protect you.” Protect me? How gullible did he think I was? Did he really expect me to— “Don’t end up like your mother. She betrayed me and lost my trust. You should learn from her mistakes.” My blood stilled in my veins. Don’t end up like your mother.
“I have no choice but to get involved. You know that.” “If your mother was here—” “My mother isn’t here.” “And thank the gods for that. It would break my heart to see how disappointed she would be.” She might as well have taken my dagger and plunged it straight into my chest.
Once again, I was struck by the familiarity of Vance’s face. I was sure I’d never properly met him before that first night, but there was something about him that called to an old, buried recollection. I tried to pull on the thread that linked us, but the memory remained snagged on whatever unreachable place it lived in.
I glanced up at him, and an image flashed through my mind—Vance, standing outside the healers’ center, looking in at me through the window.
Long-buried suspicions bubbled to the surface, sending my heartbeat galloping. No, I shouted to myself over the roar of my own thoughts. It was a mistake. A hallucination, maybe. Nothing more. It can’t be more.
War is death and misery and sacrifice, my father had warned me. War is making choices that will haunt you for the rest of your days.
“Marry me, Diem Bellator.” My heart stuttered to a stop. “Be my wife. Let’s fight this war side by side.”
“New?” He laughed and shook his head. “Diem, I shouldn’t have to court you for you to know how I feel about you. We’ve been together for damn near two decades.” “As friends—”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Take all the time you need. I want you to feel as good about this as I do.” He pulled me in for a quick, firm kiss, and for the first time, his lips felt wrong against mine. “This is our destiny, Diem. This is where we’re meant to be. I just know it.”
“I think he trusts you, though.” I snorted. “I’m quite positive you’re mistaken about that.” “No, really. I think he trusts you because you were mean to him. No one’s ever mean to him.” Her eyes twinkled. “I think he kind of liked it.”
“My darling Diem, you asked how I knew your mother was the one? The truth is that I just knew. There was never a decision to make. Whatever path she was on, that was where I belonged. By her side, and by yours. Any other option was unthinkable.”
Henri’s hands felt too heavy on my shoulders. His voice dropped low. “Diem, go home. Don’t worry about the fire.” “You don’t understand. There might be people hurt. I need to go—” “Diem.” There was a deadly gravity to his features. “Listen to me. Go home and stay there. Forget you saw the fire, and forget you saw us.”
A fragment of memory ripped through me. A man, standing outside the healers’ center, his profile softly lit by the glow of a lantern. Not a patient—a visitor. Whispering with my mother.
My father’s words pierced my roaring thoughts. What have I taught you about fighting an opponent that is much stronger than you are? If you cannot be stronger, be smarter.
And then—silence. No yelling, no scuffling, no footsteps other than my own. So I ran, and I ran, and I ran.
A tremble ran down my spine. Did he think I was responsible for this? Shit—I was responsible for this. All of it. Perhaps not in the way he suspected, but the blood stained my hands nevertheless.
He studied my face, saying nothing. “I made a mistake. One that I regret more than you know. Let me at least try to make it right. Please.”
I glared. “First of all, if you ever call me fragile again, I’ll slice your precious royal balls off and shove them down your throat.”
My thoughts flashed back to the Guardians I’d met on the road and the two carts they had been pulling. I looked again at the vacant shelves and overturned crates, piecing it all together. What did you think would happen, my conscience scolded me. That the Guardians would knock on the door and ask nicely?
A frigid tingling sensation had spread from my chest up into my head and down through my arms and legs, numbing me to the surrounding inferno. I’ve gone insane, I thought. It only took two months off of the flameroot powder, and I’ve really, truly lost it.
Perthe was the furthest thing from a loved one to me, but that was the only explanation for the way the mammoth log, five times my size and at least ten times my weight, slowly dislodged and slid free from his crumpled legs.
An absurd, exhausted laugh bubbled from my chest. I’d done it—they were safe. Severely wounded and possibly forever scarred, but alive. Maybe they were terrible men. Maybe they’d tortured mortals, or executed children under the progeny laws, or done any number of other horrific things. Maybe someday I would regret giving them a second chance. But at least for today, I’d saved their lives. In a way, they’d saved mine, too.
We both froze in place as something ancient, something profound passed between us. It was a primal force that transcended word and thought, as powerful as a crack of lightning, a child’s first breath, the endless depth of the sea. It was not of this world but entirely woven within it. It warmed my blood with a calming peace I’d never known, yet filled me with the terrible dread of a fate I could not avoid.
A vision came to me. The same one I’d had before—a battlefield drenched in silver flame and strewn with dead bodies in a circle at my feet, my body clad in glittering onyx armor and a gilded, night-black blade in my hand. Only this time, I wasn’t alone.
When I looked into those familiar eyes, the most beautiful, heart-wrenching ache burned against the left side of my chest. I covered it with my palm, and on the other side of the field, the figure mirrored the movement.
“Diem,” he whispered. “Luther,” I answered. He reached his other hand out and took a single step in my direction.
For some reason, I believed them. Their voice was familiar in a way that felt like more than a memory, like it wasn’t my mind that knew them but something deeper, something far more intimately ingrained. Its steadfast resolve soothed the limp of my heart, but there was a tone in it that was... shaken. Lost.
