Ella's POV
I didn't sleep that night.
The pendant burned like a heartbeat beneath my skin, tucked into the inside of my shirt as if keeping it hidden might stop it from changing me. But I was already changed.
The vision had scorched itself into my mind. Not in pieces, but whole. The stone altar. The blade. The vines. The crown. That girl's voice—my voice—shouting into the storm.
Let her burn bright, even if it breaks her.
I couldn't stop hearing it.
So I didn't wait for morning.
I went to Remo.
His quarters were dimly lit when I entered—candlelight flickering against cold stone and steel, the hearth at the far wall glowing with low coals. He sat in a chair near the fire, shirtless, elbow propped on one knee, hair damp like he'd just washed the day off of him.
He looked up.
And I
