Page 37

37

Reyla

M errick’s body shimmered as the change set in, but all I could focus on was the blood of the man I loved still gushing from his wound.

“A healer,” I shouted. “Please, bring a healer!”

Lorant lay so still, not whispering to Merrick, not meeting my eye. He could not be gone already.

“A healer!”

But if there was one around, they were too busy. So many lay dying on the ground. Too many of my people.

And the man I loved.

Time warped. Too much and never enough.

He finished the shift, and Lorant stared up at me, pain twisting the scar on his face.

Still dying.

I was going to lose them both.

“Reyla,” he groaned, peering around with horror. His gaze locked on mine, and he growled. “Look. At me.”

The strength I’d come to associate with this man was gone, leaving only weakness and death behind.

“Look. At. Me!”

“Lorant. Please. Do something. Heal yourself.”

He blinked slowly. “Not enough strength…left.”

“That’s not true. You’re indestructible.”

His lips curled up on one corner, sliding back into an agonized pinch too fast. “Look at me. Please .”

This man had never begged. I was the one who was supposed to do that. And etch an L and a heart into the floor of the tower. Climb onto the roof and nestle in his arms. Love him. Love Merrick. They were one and the same, and I couldn’t hold onto either of them.

Damn fates.

Damn curse that was determined to steal him away.

I stared into his eyes. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

“I love you,” he growled through a tight throat. “Love. You. Didn’t…see it coming. Fought it. Stupid for that. Should’ve… If only I could’ve…told you.”

I snagged power from around me—within me—and sent it out to the world. Sent it into this man I adored.

Pressing my face into his neck, I whispered in his ear. “I love you, Lorant. Always. Know that. Please? I will remember. I will remember!”

“Reyla,” he croaked.

I eased back. Such joy in his eyes.

“My wildfire,” he whispered. “Every step I’ve ever taken led me…here. To you. I die willingly. Again and again. As long as I can tell you that…I love you.”

“Lorant, no. Please.” I tipped my head back. “Damn you, fates! Don’t take them from me. I love Lorant. I love Merrick. There is no life, no me , without them!”

If I hadn’t been looking up, I might’ve missed it.

Or maybe not.

Because when the sky lit up, everything and everyone around me stopped moving. All peered at the sky, even the borgons freezing mid-slash.

The air itself seemed to hold its breath, and I could taste death, promise thick. Eerily silent, the sky cracked open with a light so unusual it stole my senses. Bands of silver, scarlet, lavender, and green stretched across the sky, their hues alive. Bleeding into one another. Pulsing in ribbons of heartbeats.

The glow rippled and swayed before lashing over all of Evergorne, like a blade slicing through stone. It danced across the bloodied cobblestones around me, turning blades molten with reflected light. Even the borgons remained frozen, as if tethered by the brilliance alone. Their grotesque heads were tilted back, their eyes wide like they, too, were witnessing something larger than whatever rage had sent them to attack the city.

I tore my gaze from the sky and fixed it on Lorant. His body was trembling now, spasms rattling his frame against the cobblestones. His face twisted with something I couldn’t name, and a hoarse cry jerked up his throat.

Power licked across his skin. No, beneath it. Silver and red threads twisted through his veins, blazing across every scar etched onto his skin. It felt like the world wrapped itself around him. Held him.

His eyes flickered. Forest green. Then a mossy green and warm and so Merrick, I could barely stand it. The color didn’t hold. Its hue snapped back to a searing dark green, and his pupils widened as he dragged his gaze to meet mine.

“Divided and incomplete,” he intoned, his words echoing around us. “Doomed to never be fully loved for all facets of who I am. Cursed to live as two who will never be one unless fused together by the pure love of a willing bride’s heart.” His voice split through the air, but it wasn’t quite his. Both their voices poured out now, weaving together, discordant and whole all at once.

It was them.

Both of them speaking from one body.

My hands froze on the exposed skin of his chest.

How did you hold onto something that was ripping itself apart only to fuse itself back together again before your eyes?

His scars flared. The gouge splitting his abdomen blazed, then faded, again and again. Blood stopped flowing and the torturous gash sealed together.

The world exploded with lights and colors, over and over. My heart raced with each flash. Bright. Gone. Bright. Gone. Each burst ripped a sound from his throat. A groan. Then a snarl.

Then silence as his head fell back onto the stones.

“No,” I choked out.

Lorant.

Merrick.

The man I loved writhed under my hands as a transformation ripped through him. His chest heaved, his limbs jerking against some invisible force determined to consume him. Red and silver swam under his skin, thrusting against the surface like the colors were trying to claw free.

Words slurred from his mouth. “Bound her. Claimed her. Stole her choice. Fate gave power to her vengeance.”

As his entire body spasmed, the light in his body flared, the glow turning brighter than the blaze of colors overhead. It spiraled out in a pulse, then snapped back into him with each jagged breath.

The scar across his face remained untouched, but his others softened into smooth, unmarred skin.

He stilled.

Not as a corpse but as something new.

His chest rose and fell, the veins of color beneath his skin receding. His eyes, light green now, undeniably Merrick but flecked with darker Lorant, opened and locked on mine.

Gone was the split and the fracture of the men I'd come to love.

What stared back at me was whole.

Not the golden warmth of Merrick or the consuming darkness of Lorant, but someone new, someone balanced.

Breath punched from my lungs, and all I could do was lower my shaking head to his chest.

Him. Both of them. Together.

My Merrick.

My Lorant.

One person to love.

“I'm here, Reyla. Wildfire .” His hand rose to stroke my back. “I'm here.”

A silver beam of moonlight shot down, slicing through the sky, illuminating us in such brilliance that I worried it would sear flesh from bone. The world seemed to inhale, every creature alive or dying holding its breath.

And then it screamed.

Not a borgon.

Not a villager.

An ear-splitting shriek ripped through the world before it went silent once more .

As the magic faded, the city erupted again with visceral borgon roars. Cries of fae in terror.

Lowering its head, the enormous borgon thundered toward us, malice dripping from its obsidian-black fangs.

I leaped off my husband and placed myself between him and the beast.

With my blades lifted, I prepared myself to defend him.