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She shoves away from me before I can stop her, that wild little hurricane look already sharpening in her eyes. Luna’s always been soft when she wants to be, but it’s this part of her—the part that burns hotter than hellfire when the world hurts the people she loves—that makes me want to crawl across glass for her.

She stalks toward the pillar like it’s the source of everything that’s wrong. And maybe it is.

"I’m going to make Branwen pay," she bites out, voice low and vicious, like a blade dragged over velvet. "For what she did to you, Caspian. For what she’s done to all of us."

And before I can get the wordLunaout of my throat, she kicks the damn thing. Like it’s just a stone wall and not the living, breathing curse that’s been eating us alive since the moment we were bound.

The ground hums beneath my palms.

I freeze.

The veins of obsidian running through the pillar pulse once, faintly, like a heartbeat kicking back to life. Then again, brighter. The runes stitched into the stone flare open like someone tearing off their skin, and then it happens—so fast, so impossibly fucking wrong—that my body lurches toward her.

The entire pillar ignites.

Light fractures through it like gold pouring from every crack, every line carved into that cursed rock. The ground beneath us ripples, the air distorting around her, and behind her—fuck me—a portal tears itself open, yawning wide like something hungry and waiting.

I can feel it. The pull of it in my chest, in the place Branwen cracked open inside me and left hollow. It’sthem. Orin. Lucien. Their magic bleeding through that rift like a gasp of air after drowning.

"Luna—" My voice comes out rough, too quiet over the sound of the earth moaning beneath us.

She’s standing right in front of the damn portal, her hand still pressed against the stone like she belongs to it, like it belongs to her now. And she’s staring at it like she doesn’t know how she just did that. As if it was nothing, like she flicked a switch without meaning to.

The runes crawl up her arm, luminous and alive, glowing the same bruised gold as the portal behind her. It isn’t just the pillar reacting—it’s her. The bond, the fifth crest, everything inside herrespondingto something older and darker than all of us.

And I realize then, with a sinking in my chest like the world is about to tilt again—

Orin isn’t holding it closed anymore.

Either he let go.

Or something took him.

My heart slams once, cold and ugly, before I push to my feet. "We need the others. Now."

Luna blinks over her shoulder at me, and the glow on her skin flickers, like a living thing. And whatever’s about to come through it—Orin, Lucien, or something else entirely—none of us are ready for it.

Silas

I step up to the edge of the portal like I’m surveying the world's biggest, sexiest mistake. Hands braced on my hips, chin tilted like I’m about to deliver the State of the Fucking Union. Except this isn’t politics—it’s something far more dangerous. It's us. And worse, it’s me, because the second I see that portal yawning open like it’s been waiting for us to fuck it all up, I know exactly what’s about to happen.

We’re about to do something incredibly stupid. Which, naturally, is where I thrive.

I glance over my shoulder at the others—the ones who finally showed up because Caspian probably sent out a distress signal in all caps, bolded, and underlined like the good little responsible Sin he is now. Elias looks like he’s still shaking glitter out of his hair, which honestly improves him. Ambrose is giving me thatI hate everything about youlook, which only encourages me. Riven’s jaw is locked so tight he looks like he’s about to punch the portal itself. And Caspian’s hanging back like he wants to bolt, but can’t.

And Luna—fuck me—she’s still too close to the pillar, still lit from the inside like she’s some fucking god’s idea of a cruel joke. She’s the only one not looking at me, and that will not stand.

So I clap my hands once, loud enough to draw every gaze back to me. "All right, degenerates and disasters," I announce, voice dripping with manufactured authority, "welcome to Operation Bad Idea."

Riven groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Silas—"

"No, no, no, don’t interrupt me when I’m being brilliant." I wave him off, pivoting on my heel so I can start pacing in front of them like I’m giving a damn lecture at the Academy again—the kind that ended with something on fire or someone naked. Usually both.

"We are now officially in Phase One:Stick our hands into an ancient, magically unstable portal and pray it doesn’t chew us up like a bad date." I throw out a jazz hand toward the portal behind me, the light flickering like it’s listening. Like itwantsus. "The rules of Operation Bad Idea are simple: No one dies. No one touches the weird glowing shit without permission. And if anyone tries to sacrifice themselves, I get dibs on smacking them first."

Luna’s lips twitch. I catch it out of the corner of my eye and my stomach fucking somersaults like an idiot.

"And what’s Phase Two?" Elias asks, trying so hard to sound bored, but I can see it—the pulse in his throat, the way he’s inching closer to her without realizing it. Like gravity. Like all of us.