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I can’t help but shudder. The way she says it, it’s like she’s tasting each syllable, savoring them as if they were her last meal. But they’re not hers. The voice may sound like Leesa’s, but the malice dripping from it is all wrong.

My gaze locks onto hers, searching for something familiar, but I only find darkness. An abyss where my sister used to be. “What is it that you know?”

She tilts her head, a puppet on unseen strings, and giggles. “Soon the true king will rise, and your flame will be snuffed out. Then nothing will stand in our way.” Her tongue trails over her lips, and I remember the expression on her face when she licked Blair’s blood off the knife.

Each words is a blade twisting in my chest. Leesa is still in there somewhere. She has to be.

Tears spill down my cheeks unchecked. “Is that really such a smart idea? Making me cry?”

Her black eyes dart to mine. For the first time, I note a glimmer of real fear in them.

“Let’s see if this works.” I swipe at my damp cheeks before stepping closer to where the cold iron keeps Leesa captive.

I draw in a steadying breath, then press my palm—wet with tears—against the bare skin of her throat.

Her body recoils from my touch. She hisses—a feral sound—but the chains hold her fast. “Fuck! That burns! How could you do this to your own sister?”

Leesa screeches and twists, head thrashing and grimy curls flying as her entire body shakes. Chains rattle and guards brace themselves as her body contorts as far as the restraints will reach.

I flinch back, praying to all the gods that my strong-willed sister can survive this. If she can’t, then I doubt anyone else will be able to.

What’s the point of removing the corruption if it kills the victims regardless?

Her crazed eyes widen.

That’s the only warning I have before she twists her head, teeth snapping for my flesh. I jerk my hand back, barely in time.

She laughs, eyes rolling forward in her head. “Is this your grand plan? How pathetic. Your family seems to have grown weak, while I have recovered and grow more powerful with every passing day.”

Agnar draws up beside me and speaks low in my ear. “I don’t know much about phoenixes or tears. But I do know that if skin heals over an infection, healers have to lance the skin in order to truly cure it.”

“That makes perfect sense.” I reach inside my boot, drawing out the dagger from Eldor. “Here goes everything.”

Carefully, I scrape a tear from my cheek with the blade’s edge. With a steady hand, I press the point against Leesa’s skin.

She scoffs, displaying a brash mask of bravado. Blood blooms around the sharp point as it pierces her skin. A strangled choke cuts off her laughter, the noise clawing at my ears like a caged beast desperate for escape.

Leesa’s raw, agonizing screams pierce the air. There’s no faking this as her spine curls backward, forcing her chest out and her head back. She strains against the chains, muscles taut as sweat beads on her forehead.

She coughs, sudden and violent. Black ichor oozes out of her mouth, hitting the dirt with a wet smack.

I slap a hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to dry heave because what the actual fuck was that?

Guards rush in the cell, their weapons drawn.

“No!” I throw out a hand, conjuring a wall of flame between us and the guards. “Don’t hurt her. Stay back!”

Her head snaps forward, and her body goes limp.

Air leaves my lungs as I fall to my knees.

Did I just kill my sister?

ChapterThirty-Six

“Get a healer. She’s still breathing!” Agnar shouts to one of the guards. “You, bring me the key to her chains.”

My heart pounds, and my vision blurs with another round of unshed tears.