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He chuckles, and it’s the first non-creepy sound I’ve heard him make. “Don’t fool yourself that I’m some hero, girl. I am your worst nightmare, and you will respect the title I hold and my position in this academy. Don’t presume to know anything about me because you are my other half.”

And just like that, he is back to being an arsehole. Glad to see some things never change.

“Your other half?” I can’t help the face I pull.

“Not in the way you are imagining, believe me, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot barge pole.”

“Hey!” I snap at the insult and then wonder what in the fuck I’m doing. I should be glad, not affronted.

“You, Miss Morvoren, are the prop I need to keep this defence, this stronghold, up and running in the best way possible. I need someone capable of sharing the burden. Someone who can withstand the power without being consumed by it.”

“Stronghold?” I croak. “The wards fell pretty swiftly, wouldn’t you say?”

“I dropped them.”

“Of course you did,” I grit out. “May I ask why?”

“Because, Miss Morvoren, the only way to end this endless cycle of defenders and attackers is to face them all at once. The Collectors, Damadere, your dragon’s Hunters, who shouldn’t even be in this realm, will keep coming, one threat after another, for centuries.

I’m tired of playing defence, but I can’t leave here, and you…

oh, you, Isolde, are a creature I’ve been waiting a very long time for. Eternity, in fact.”

“What are you?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Just know that I’m right, and you are going to help me rid this world of those vermin once and for all.”

The power flowing through me intensifies, and I gasp as more knowledge floods my mind. Images of other academies, other guardians, and other nexus points across multiple realms. There is one shrouded in mist, one that is even darker than this place, one underwater, one in the stars… it’s endless.

“You’re going to let them fight it out here, on your terms.”

“ Our terms,” he corrects. “With your power added to mine, we can contain the battlefield and ensure the destruction doesn’t spread beyond SilverGate’s grounds. Think of it as a controlled demolition.”

Another roar from above, followed by what sounds like stone cracking. CJ’s battle is escalating.

“And my guys?” I demand. “William, Cassiel, CJ? What happens to them in your controlled demolition?”

Blackridge’s expression doesn’t change. “Survivors adapt. The weak perish. It’s the natural order.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer I can give. Their survival depends on their own strength and cunning. Although I have every reason to believe that you didn’t surround yourself with the weak, Isolde. Your power wouldn’t allow it.”

The way he keeps saying my name now, instead of the more formal Miss Morvoren, is creeping me out. It’s like we have advanced past Headmaster-student into dodgy territory.

“If they don’t survive this, you and I are going to have a reckoning,” I growl.

He smiles malevolently. “And that is why I know your court will survive, Isolde. They are like you. Fierce warriors know how to throw around a threat and make sure it’s a promise.”

“You have no idea how much of a promise that is. If there is even a scratch on them?—”

“Yes, yes, you will rip my head off, shove it somewhere unpleasant, etcetera, etcetera. I’ve heard it all before, and I’m still standing.”

“Probably because no one can kill you.”

His eyes flash dangerously. “Now you’re getting it, Isolde. And neither can you.”

“Huh?”

“A true and blessed immortal. It’s been a long time coming. Take my hand.” He pulls his from the liquid silver, and I stare at it.

Every instinct I have is screaming at me not to trust him.

“You think I’ll just accept this fate? Allow myself to be bound here or consumed trying?”

“I think that you already feel it. The pull of the nexus, the rightness of the connection.”

I wish he weren’t, but he is right. Beneath the fear and anger, there’s a part of me that responds to this place, that feels an affinity for its ancient power. The sigils aren’t forcing their way into me; they’re awakening something that was already there, dormant until now.

“I need you to take my hand, Isolde. Together, we can end this. Apart, we are simply postponing the inevitable.”

“What if I say no?” I challenge, though my voice lacks the conviction I wish it had.

“Then the cycle continues,” he replies. “The Collectors will likely overwhelm SilverGate and grab anything that catches their eye, probably your brother as their starter prize. Damadere will arrive and kill you, so you cannot replace her. Your dragon will be hunted, your fallen angel will be dragged into the infernal pit, and your resurrected butcher will be returned to dust. And you, Isolde, will either be destroyed or enslaved.”

His words paint a bleak picture, one that chills me to the bone despite the power coursing through my veins.

“You’re offering me a choice between two prisons,” I say bitterly.

“I’m offering you a chance to change the rules of the game,” he counters. “To stop being a pawn and become a queen. But the choice, as always, is yours.”

The chamber trembles as another impact from above shakes the foundations. CJ’s roars are furious, and the battle is escalating. Time is running out.

I look at Blackridge’s outstretched hand, then at the pulsating sphere of crimson energy above the platform.

If I take his hand, I bind myself to this place, to him, for an eternity I can’t begin to comprehend.

If I refuse, I condemn my friends, my protectors, my everything, to a fate worse than death.

The blood whispers, silent since I drank Blackridge’s blood, now stirs with a new urgency. Not demanding, but guiding.

This is the way. The only way.

“Damn you,” I whisper, and place my hand in his.

Dark Vows, Book 3: Dark Vows