Page 67

Alexiares

T he world crumbled beneath my feet. Literally, figuratively—it was all the same damn thing. Ash and charred flesh rained down around me, the sky an angry haze of smoke and flame. Fire seared along my arms, water seeped into the fractured asphalt, and the earth itself shuddered beneath me. The tremors echoed through my bones, unstable, fractured. Like me.

Yes. They would all suffer like me.

“No,” the word tore from my throat as a broken whisper. “She’s still in there …” I reached toward the end of the street, where the capitol building no longer rose in the distance.

Hands grabbed at me. Riley and Abel shouted words I did not care to hear over the roaring promise of death to them all roaring in my ears. I twisted violently, throwing Abel off first, then Riley.

“Get off me!” I howled, my voice cracking at the disgusting pitying stare on Millie’s face as she watched from steps away. “My wife!” I pointed at nothing, because she existed nowhere. “My … my fucking wife.”

I’d never said it out loud before—those words. My wife . The memory of our wedding day. The way she looked at me, soft and knowing, as we stood together on the same beach where I had first let her in. The warmth in those beautiful eyes as she whispered, “ I want to be yours in every way that matters before we go. ”

I hadn’t understood then. The glimpse of happiness that would be taken away. How I wouldn’t have the chance to put up a fight.

“She planned this,” I choked out as I stumbled to my knees. “She knew. She fucking knew, and she didn’t tell me. Didn’t warn me.”

“Alexi—” Riley’s voice was tight.

“She’s not gone!” I screamed, slamming my fists into the ground. The street cracked beneath me, fire erupting in jagged lines as an injured Covert soldier slipped into the pit I’d raised from hell. “She is not.”

The ground heaved from a secondary blast, a thunderous rumble tearing through the air as old gas lines exploded in the distance. My head whipped up at the sound. “No,” I breathed, my chest tightening as panic surged.

I was running before I realized it, my body acting on instinct, desperation driving me forward.

“Alexiares!” Riley’s voice rang out behind me. His footsteps pounded against the fractured pavement.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The world narrowed to a single thought, a single hope. My surroundings were a blur, the screams, the fire, the choking haze of ash. I vaulted over wreckage, my boots skidding on loose debris, ducking under twisted beams and through jagged gaps in the rubble. Pain clawed at my side, the metallic taste of blood sharp on my tongue, but I shoved it down.

We reached the crater where the capitol used to stand. The area was scorched black, smoke curling upward from the ruins. A hole gaped in the earth. It was wide. Endless—as if the world had swallowed her whole.

Riley stopped beside me, his chest heaving. Barely able to utter a whisper. “She’s gone.”

“No.” I choked on tears and the memories we would never share.

Abel stepped closer. “I can’t feel her anymore.”

The bond between us—that magic string that tethered my family together—was not broken. It was strained. Yes . It could be fixed. They could not feel her, but I could.

“I can.”

“Alexi—” Abel began.

“I said I can!” I snapped, the words tearing from my throat. “Get away from me.”

Abel froze, his face contorting as if he couldn’t piece together what I’d said. His confusion was an insult. Riley stood there staring into the crater—hollow-eyed and useless, like his mind had snapped and he was leaving me to drown in this hell alone.

He stepped back, their faces painted with the sorrow of great loss, and I hated them for it. How could they give up on her so easily? So early? Amaia would never give up on us. Not even for a second. She would crawl through fire, tear the world apart if it meant there was even a fraction of a chance to save us.

“She’s gone.” Millie’s voice cut through the silence. Her gaze flicked to Abel and something passed between them. Something I wanted to ignore. “And she’s not coming back.”