Shadow & Storms (The Legends of Thezmarr, #4)

by Helen Scheuerer

For he knew in his bones that she would emerge victorious, Naarvian steel in hand, vows of vengeance on her tongue. And that she would come for him.

And just when he could take no more, just as he considered cracking his own head upon the stone to make it stop, he was shown something else. Something good. His cabin. Home. And Thea waiting for him inside, a simple band of fine silver on her fourth finger, a smile on her full lips. ‘There you are,’ she said.

The thought was bittersweet, for she’d won the Great Rite and achieved what she’d always wanted, only to have lost something more precious when she emerged.

For him, the world would wait. And when he was safe at her side, they could watch the whole fucking thing go up in flames to be reborn anew. What was it the prophecy said? A dawn of fire and blood.

‘Then the world will know that if they hurt him, I’ll burn them all to the ground.’

As blood dripped from Wilder’s swords, that brilliant white light flared again. At last, he tasted the storm on his lips, and looked up.

She broke away, panting. ‘I love you,’ she gasped, refusing to tear her eyes away from him. ‘I love you so much I can hardly breathe. I’ve wanted to say it for so long —’ Wilder gave a hoarse, broken laugh. ‘Tell me again later. Tell me when we’re safe.’ Thea kissed him again, desperate to show him that tempest he’d brought to life within her from the moment they’d met. ‘I’ll tell you every day until my last,’ she murmured.

‘You’re dead anyway,’ she promised. ‘But touch him again, I dare you.’

Thea rallied her strength, her power, and threw everything she had at the Scarlet Tower. The place that had held her love captive, that had hurt him, that had seen monsters created and thrust upon the midrealms… ‘I am the storm,’ she told herself. She let her lightning rage, right alongside her heart, and she split the gods-damned tower in two.

‘I asked them if I’d regret it… not seeking immortal life.’ He met her celadon gaze, memorising every one of her features anew. ‘They told me that I’d never regret it. That while my life would hold much pain, it would also hold more love than I could ever imagine.’

‘You are the strongest person I know,’ she told him as she withdrew breathlessly. ‘For the longest time I have lived upon the frayed edges of memory, of life. But with you by my side, I feel… reborn. Like you’ve answered the restlessness within me with power of your own. Power that fits together like pieces of a puzzle.’ She traced the line of his jaw, hoping he saw everything she felt for him shining in her stare. ‘Tell me what you need and it’s yours.’

a true man won’t cut you down as you fight your battles… A true man helps sharpen your sword, guards your back and fights at your side.’

Reyna’s eyes flicked to her. ‘Shadow and storms. A reckoning. I have seen that gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten. And I have seen your fates,’ she told them. ‘They are tangled. I cannot discern one from the next, only that they meet in a dawn of fire and blood.’

‘You never need to thank me,’ Wilder told her. ‘I will always fight for you. And it’s my honour to do so.’

Don’t let the world – don’t let anyone convince you that you’re not enough. Only you define your story. You and you alone. When they tell you what you’re not, when they tell you what you can’t do, remember: you are the storm, Elwren. You split the skies and flood the plains. You make the ground tremble beneath their boots. No one can fucking stop you.’

‘Good,’ Wilder replied. ‘Because I love you, so deeply, Thea. And if I tell you I love you a thousand times a day for the rest of our lives, it will not have been enough.’

‘I want more than war stories and bloodshed. I want to build a life with you, Thea.’

‘It was you…’ she said, voice faint. ‘It was you wielding this scythe all those years ago. You brought the darkness down on Thezmarr. Artos framed me… to save you.’

‘We are all daughters of darkness, Thea. We were born into a world of it, a place that would dictate the way in which we defend ourselves, the way we live our lives. No more. That world is no longer. And the next one will be what we make it.’

‘You were not born to wield steel and steel alone.’ Lightning crackled in her veins once more and she felt an otherworldly presence surround her – not one of darkness and malice, but one of fury. Iseldra. Morwynn. Valdara. They were here.

‘I always said you’d be the end of me,’ he told her, throat bobbing. ‘But I was wrong. You’re the beginning.’