Page 60

The night is deceptively quiet.

The fortress is rebuilt, its walls standing strong, its torches burning high. The smell of charred stone has long since faded, replaced by the crisp bite of cold air sweeping through the halls. It should bring comfort. Safety.

But it does not.

I stand at the boundary of the balcony, looking over the vast, dark expanse of the kingdom below. The mountains loom in the distance, their peaks hidden beneath the thick veil of clouds. A storm is coming. I can feel it.

Not the kind that breaks the sky with rain and thunder. The kind that breaks the world.

My hands tighten around the stone railing. The wind howls through the empty corridors behind me.

Something is watching me.

I turn, expecting Veylan.

But I am alone. Or at least—I should be.

The voice comes from everywhere and nowhere.

A song, low and chilling. Ancient and wrong.

"Little siren, you thought you had won?"

I go rigid.

The torches flicker. The shadows stretch too far.

I swallow down the sudden, suffocating weight in my chest. My lips part, but my voice does not come.

"Did you really believe your story would end here?"

The voice slithers through my mind, curling around my bones like ice. Not mine. Not my own magic. Something else.

Something older.

The wind shifts, and suddenly, she is there.

A siren.

Not flesh. Not human.

A creature made of mist and shadow, her form shifting in and out of the darkness. Her face is both beautiful and terrible, eyes hollow pools of deep black, mouth curved in something too sharp, too knowing.

I should not fear her. But I do.

"Do you hear it?" she whispers.

The sound is not a sound. It is a feeling.

A hum beneath my skin.

A warning.

"You are not real," I breathe, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. "You're a vision. A trick."

The siren only smiles.

"Then why do you tremble?"

I hate that she is right.

The torches behind her die out one by one, their light snuffed out by something unseen.

"Do you think you have changed your fate, little siren?" she murmurs. Mocking. Knowing.

I step forward, the bond between Veylan and me thrumming in the back of my mind. I could call for him. I should. But something tells me that this is for me alone.

The siren leans her head to the side, eyes flicking over me like she is peeling away my skin, my soul, my very essence.

"You have only begun to awaken."

Her voice warps. Shifts.

The fortress around me shudders.

The siren steps closer. The cold of her presence sinks beneath my skin, bleeding into my bones.

"Do you hear them?" she whispers.

I do.

Distant. Faint. A song.

Not one I am singing.

A chorus, deep beneath the earth. Beneath the sea.

"They are waking."

The siren leans in, her voice nothing but a breath against my ear.

"And they are coming for you and the ones you love."

My vision fractures. A flash of something—not the present. Not the past.

The future.

Blood.

Endless.

And a throne not meant for me—but taken.

The siren vanishes. I stagger back. My pulse hammers against my ribs.

What was that? What did I just see?

My breath comes too fast. My hands shake.

I am not alone anymore.

A new presence—one I know.

Veylan.

I barely register his hands on me, steadying me as I sway.

“Sera.” His voice is a low growl, filled with something he does not understand. “What just happened?”

I am still shaking.

I don’t tell him but I know I have to.

My lips part, but the words do not come. I am afraid. Beyond terrified.

Not for me.

For him.

For what is coming.

For what I might have to become.

He must see it on my face.

The storm inside me. The wound I do not know how to name.

His hands tighten around my arms, pulling me closer.

And for once, he does not hesitate.

“You are not alone.”

The words should not feel so powerful.

But they do.

I need them.

I crash into him, gripping his tunic as if it is the only thing keeping me here.

His arms come around me, unshakable. And then, he makes a vow.

A whisper against my hair. “For as long as I breathe, I will protect you.”

My tears flow with my emotions, unstoppable.

I clutch him harder.

I want to believe him. I need to believe him.

The voice still lingers in my mind, making my doubt everything.

"The war is not over, little siren."

"It has only just begun."

His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face up.

My breath catches.

His eyes—gods, his eyes.

There is no hesitation. No war between us anymore.

Only this.

Only him.

He leans in. And I let him.

The kiss is not soft.

It is not careful.

It is everything.

His lips claim mine, demanding. Devouring.

And I give all of me.

Even with the fear curling in my gut—I choose him.

Again.

And again.

If given the chance, I will still choose him.

Even if it destroys us both.

Even if it kills me.