Page 81

Draevyn

“ W ait, no!” Draevyn bellowed as Esmyra reached for the bones, but he knew before the second word left his lips, it was already too late.

He watched helplessly as her body shuddered, her skin growing pale the instant her fingers brushed against the remains, as if they had sucked the life force from her.

The runes marking her arms surged so brightly it nearly blinded him as he dove for her.

And when they winked out, they were a dull crimson with a similar ashy hue to her flesh—no longer teal, as they had been since they arrived.

The power she always exuded no longer pulsated from her body, but now from the bones.

Draevyn lunged forward, catching her just as her knees buckled, forcing him to fall to his own on the ground.

Her form sagged against him, lifeless and limp, as he lowered her carefully to the floor.

Esmyra’s pulse fluttered weakly as he pressed his fingers to her neck, but her breaths had ceased to rise and fall with any rhythm.

Panic seized him, and he found himself barely able to catch his breath as he stared down at her in his arms.

This wasn’t like how she collapsed when they fought against the krechuums. She still had a heartbeat then, and her chest rose and fell.

And now, he feared she’d vanished entirely—lost to whatever magic had taken hold of her the moment she touched those remains.

He’d never seen her so vulnerable, and he tightened his hold around her, refusing to let go.

“Wildfire.” He gently shook her, his voice a hushed murmur, desperate and pleading. “I need you to wake up. Come back to me…”

Draevyn’s jaw clenched, feeling as if he were pleading with a corpse, but he refused to believe it. His heart hammered painfully at the thought. He wasn’t prepared for the panic that clawed up his spine, or the gnawing helplessness that made him want to rage against whatever just took her from him.

“ Esmyra !” He couldn’t help the crack in his voice. His fingers dug into her arms as if his touch alone could anchor her back to him—to the world.

Draevyn studied her face, taking in every detail as if he hadn’t already memorized every feature of her. Esmyra no longer held the defiant gaze he looked forward to seeing every morning.

Now, she lay in his arms as if on the edge of life and death, seeming so fragile…so human .

It was then he realized, somewhere in the chaos of their reluctant truce, she had clawed her way into his heart. Esmyra was a force of nature, a tempest barely contained, and he wanted her back—here, with him.

With his heart racing, he brought his lips to her ear. “Wherever you are, fight your way back.” The words were barely louder than a breath. “Find your way back… to me .”

Seconds passed like hours, and just as his grip wavered, as the icy thread of dread wrapped tighter around his heart, the runes atop her arms began to glow once more.

The bones on the altar rattled with matching glowing runes, and then, with a sudden burst of light, Esmyra’s eyes flew open with a desperate gasp.

Her chest heaved, and she blinked, her eyes flooding with panic. Her gaze snapped up to meet his, wild and searching, as if she’d surfaced from the darkest depths of hell itself.

“Esmyra! You’re okay!” Draevyn steadied her, brushing strands of hair from her face. “You’re safe,” he repeated over and over, as if he were more so trying to convince himself.

A shudder rippled through her, and her hands shot out, gripping his arms as her eyes grew feral and unfocused.

Talons slipped from her fingers and dug into his skin, but he barely felt the pain of it over his concern.

He pressed one hand firmly to her shoulder, the other gently cradling her face as he searched her sea-blue gaze.

“Wildfire,” he whispered, the word heavy with relief. “You’re back. You’re here. You’re here with me.”

Draevyn watched her, taking in the haunted look in her eyes, like she’d just seen the horrors of a lifetime and was struggling to find her way out of them.

She blinked, a wave of exhaustion settling over her features, and took a deep, steadying breath. But her talons still clung to him as if afraid he might vanish if she let go.

“What happened?” His thumb traced the line of her cheek. “Where did you go?”

Esmyra stared at him, her breath still uneven, and he noticed a faint tremor in her hands. It took her a few moments, but finally, her voice broke through, rough and laced with shock. “We’re in the cave. In Maerinys.”

He nodded rapidly. “Yes.”

“We’re alive.” She sounded as if she didn’t believe it, and her once dull pulse now thrummed beneath his fingertips.

His brows furrowed for a moment, unable to imagine what she must’ve just gone through for her to believe otherwise. “We are.”

Esmyra swallowed hard and moved to stand, but Draevyn’s grip on her arm remained in case she faltered. Once she straightened, her stare fell to the rune-marked remains. Her hand drifted to the bones she’d touched but stopped short, a flicker of fear crossing her face.

“What happened?” Draevyn asked again. Fury seeped into his veins, and his flames lashed against the hold of the velsinyte bracelet, waiting to burn anything that may have harmed her. He had never seen her so rattled—never thought it was even possible.

“I was here and then I wasn’t,” she said at last, her voice raw. “Like I was transported through time itself and placed inside a memory.” She paused for a moment as her stare remained on the bones, unyielding.

His eyes flared. “What do you mean?”

“Draevyn…” Esmyra’s voice cracked as she turned to face him. Her eyes searched his as her expression became overcome with grief. “Naerysa and Kaelypso.”

“The lost goddesses,” he finished for her.

“They…they never left the realm. Never abandoned their people.” She swallowed as rage warped her perfect face.

Draevyn’s mind reeled as his eyes darted back and forth from her to the bones. A sinking feeling fell into the pit of his stomach, his throat tightening. “Esmyra, whose remains are these?”

A single tear slid from her rage-filled eyes. “Mine,” she whispered.

His world spun, grappling with the single word spoken so confidently.

It tangled itself around his mind, tearing through his memories of her.

How she was never like any woman he had ever met, exuding power unlike any being he had ever crossed.

Power like…like a goddess . Esmyra herself said she never understood how she possessed such magic, only assuming she had ties to the lost kingdom.

She had been desperate for answers. Desperate to find someone like her.

And then she finally had—in a twin .

Could it be possible? Were Esmyra and Syrena the lost goddesses of Rymelle?

Draevyn studied her, expecting to find uncertainty or perhaps even fear in her eyes, but instead, he found nothing but a calm fury.

When he couldn’t find words, she spoke again, meeting his stare.

“The moment I touched the bones, I was transported to the day of the betrayal. The day Maerinys sank to the depths.”

In that moment, Draevyn felt the walls of his doubt crack, questioning everything he thought he knew. He reached out and took her chin between his fingers, bringing her stare back to his. “Tell me everything.”

And she did.

Esmyra spoke of being in another form—of watching her death at the hands of Rymelle’s remaining gods and their betrayal of her and her sister, without any explanation as to why.

She told him how she felt Kaelypso’s pain, as lethal and agonizing as if it were her own.

How she looked into those same teal eyes and knew in her soul they were one and the same.

When he asked who had plunged the dagger into their hearts, she hesitated for only a moment, her eyes lifting to those very daggers that now hung on the wall behind their remains.

Her gaze held something he didn’t quite understand, but when the word Irah left her lips, he could’ve sworn his heart stopped.

Draevyn’s power stemmed from the very god who had betrayed her in another life. No wonder she had hated him so intensely. Perhaps she still did, maybe even more so now.

Esmyra swallowed. “I know how it sounds…but the memories, the feelings—they were real. It was me, but not this me.” She gestured to herself.

“I believe you,” he stated.

Her eyes darted back and forth between his. “Thank you,” she breathed. “There was…one other thing. One detail I still can’t grasp.”

“What is it?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Have you ever heard of an Asyris?”

Draevyn scratched at the stubble lining his jaw. “I don’t believe so. Why?”

Esmyra looked to the daggers on the wall. “I think whatever Asyris is, or whoever it is, they had something to do with the creation of velsinyte.” Her gaze found his. “Asyris is the reason they discovered how to kill a god.”

Draevyn blew out a breath. “It’s something we’ll need to look into, but after seeing the archives down here, I can’t even begin to imagine how much history has been lost to Rymelle.”

She nodded along with his words before asking, “Do you think Syrena knows about what happened to us in another life? Do you think she kept this from me this entire time?”

“It’s impossible to say,” he answered, but the second he spoke those words, he knew. He knew Syrena must’ve known. All the talks of them finding a way to raise the kingdom—only they had to be together to do it. She must’ve known all along.

Draevyn pulled Esmyra into his chest, her body going stiff at the sudden contact before allowing herself to melt into him. “But let’s find out,” he whispered, determined. She looked up at him, and he could’ve sworn he saw hope in her eyes. “We’ll get to the truth, no matter what it takes.”

“Aye,” she whispered.