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These were the important questions. And while Taly was still pondering them, blinking up at him blearily, the Sanctifier leaned in—taking inaction for consent.

“So, what’ll it be, Savior? A toast? A dance? Or something a little more… personal?”

Taly smiled like she hadn’t just swallowed bile. “Mm. Tempting.” Her free hand drifted casually to her hip—not to her dagger, not yet. “But have you considered: none of the above?”

She twisted, sliding free. Got two steps.

His hand caught her waist.

“We’re not done.”

Well, fuck.

Taly glanced over her shoulder, still playing the game, still keeping it light. “I thought we were.”

He chuckled. “Now, now. No need to play hard to get. You think I go around making offers like this every day?”

His hand stayed where it was. Not so much as an offer as a demand dressed up as a question.

He wasn’t the first asshole to thinknowas just the start of negotiations. The biggest, meanest, and scariest—sure. But she was wrapped up tight in her liquid courage, drowning in warm fire and the high of bad choices.

Taly leaned in instead of flinching, like it was her idea. Like she was comfortable.

She turned fully to face him, voice dropping just enough to make it feel like a secret. “You know what I just realized?”

He tilted his head slightly, intrigued.

And that was enough.

Taly ghosted her fingers over his wrist—soft, deliberate—before she twisted hard, breaking free in one smooth motion.

“I have somewhere else to be.”

This time, the hand that grabbed her wasn’t gentle. Neither was the dagger she pulled, pressing it firm to his throat.

In the shadows, she caught the flicker of widening eyes and flaring nostrils.

No one moved to stop him. No one tried to stop her, either.

Most shrank back into the shadows. But others… they watched her with something sharper. Tight-lipped, fingers gripped tight around the drink bought for them by theirSavior.

“Go ahead.” The Sanctifier’s voice was low, like velvet stretched over steel. “You think you can win this?”

No. She didn’t have a chance. His buddies were already tensed, itching for a fight. Just a flick of her blade, the scent of blood, and they would come swarming.

And then it would be over.

She’d lose. Not just the fight, but everything. One errant drop of blood, a blip in her glamour—that’s all it would take. Her magic, her true identity as a time mage, would be exposed.

Taly stared up into the face of Death, and for a moment, it didn’t feel like a threat. It felt like relief. A blessing, even.

Fate had led them here—her end, his victory, the inevitable conclusion of the roles they were born to play. And since drinking hadn’t given her the peace she was looking for, this… well, it was certainly a more permanent means of escape.

No more running. No more sacrifices. No more dragging the people she loved into the fire merely by existing.

Just… the end.

The weight of the blade was a temptation—a hairsbreadth away from a mistake she couldn’t take back.