The world seemed to hold its breath.
Seraphina stood rooted in place, the black stone beneath her boots pulsing with every thud of her heart. Lyra’s words hung in the air, poisonous and tempting all at once.
Kael’s chains rattled as he strained weakly against them. “Sera,” he said again, his voice raw, pleading. “Don’t leave me here. Not again.”
Her throat burned. The last time she had heard his voice that desperate, he had been begging her not to run the night the Crescent Blades had attacked. And she had run. She had survived. But he had been taken.
Her fingers curled tight around the pendant at her neck until the edge bit into her skin.
One life, freely given.
It would be so easy. Step forward, offer herself, end the torment—for him, for her.
But then Darius’ hand tightened aroun
