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"Before we have to decide which parts of ourselves to cut away," Rowen finished, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

I reached for his hand, then for Callum's, creating a linked chain of the four of us. "We decide together," I said firmly. "No one carries this alone."

Archer pressed his lips to my forehead. "Together," he agreed, though the word sounded like it pained him.

As I lay there, surrounded by the three men fate had bound me to, I wondered what would be worse.

Facing the Shadow Beast, or losing the connection that had become as essential as breathing.

Neither option seemed bearable.

But we had no choice. The clock was ticking, the shadow growing, and somewhere between worlds, an ancient darkness was gathering its strength to claim me.

29

Sierra

Ifound Archer exactly where I expected. Hunched over the ancient tomes in Rowen's library, his dark hair falling forward to shield his face. The only light came from a single lamp that cast long shadows across the room, giving his features a haunted quality.

"Archer," I said softly, approaching the heavy wooden table where he'd made his fortress of books and scrolls. "You've been in here for two days straight."

He didn't look up, just turned another brittle page with careful fingers. "I need to be sure I understand every detail of the ritual."

I moved behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders. The muscles beneath my fingers were knotted with tension. "You need rest. Food. Us."

"What I need is to find another way." His voice was rough from disuse, the words clipped.

"Let me help you," I offered, massaging his shoulders gently. "Four eyes are better than two."

Archer finally looked up, and the exhaustion etched into his face made my heart ache. Dark circles shadowed his ice-blue eyes, and several days' worth of stubble darkened his jaw.

"Sierra, please." He gently removed my hands from his shoulders. "I need to focus."

"You're punishing yourself." Frustration built within my chest. "Isolating yourself won't change what's in that book."

"You don't understand." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it more disheveled than before. "If I miss something, if I get this wrong?—"

"Then we'll face it together, like we promised."

He turned back to the book, effectively dismissing me. "I need to keep working."

I stood there for a moment longer, watching him retreat back into himself. The wall he'd built between us since revealing the prophecy felt impenetrable.

"Fine," I sighed, the word heavy with disappointment. "But you can't hide in here forever, Archer."

He didn't respond, already lost again in the ancient text. I turned and left, closing the library door behind me with more force than necessary.

In the hallway, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to push down the frustration and worry that had become my constant companions. The manor felt oppressive, the weight of our impending decision hanging over everything like a shroud.

I needed air. Movement. Something to distract me from the clock ticking down in my head.

As I pushed away from the wall, the door to Rowen's office opened, and he emerged, looking nearly as tired as Archer. When he saw me, his expression softened.

"Sierra." My name on his lips was like a balm.

"Do you have a minute?" I asked, suddenly desperate for connection. "I need to talk."

Rowen nodded, taking my hand and leading me down the hall to a sitting room. He settled onto a plush couch and pulledme onto his lap, his arms encircling me in a cocoon of warmth and security.