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LIORA

I don’t remember leaving.

One minute I was in his arms, breath still shaky from the nightmare. The next—I was outside, barefoot, standing in the street, the world hushed like it knew what I was about to do.

I didn’t run. Not at first.

But something pulled me. Something dark and sharp, like a voice inside my bones whispering, You know what you have to do.

And I do.

Seraphiel wasn’t bluffing. He never does.

He plays with his food—yes. Twists truth until it’s prettier. But when he gives a warning? A promise? A threat? It’s gospel. And this time it was about Dante.

Return to me… or he dies.

I’ve seen what Seraphiel does to the ones who matter. The ones we try to keep safe.

He doesn’t just kill them.

He unmakes them. Warps them. Breaks them so deeply they can’t remember who they are—only who they belong to.

And I can’t let that happen to Dante. Even if it breaks me. Especially if it does because at least Dante will still have a chance, a life. Even if it doesn’t include me. It’s the bond that ties us and that’s what I need to erase.

I cross into the old fae grove just outside the southern boundary—where the Veil first tore centuries ago, and magic still leaks like oil through paper. It’s dead quiet, except for the low pulse of raw energy humming beneath the earth.

The grove’s forbidden for a reason. Fae magic lingers here untouched. Unclean. Wild. But I need it.

I kneel in the middle of the rune-carved stone, fingers trembling as I draw the sigils I never thought I’d use. The kind of magic Thorne warned me would cost more than blood.

This one? It takes memory. Specifically, his.

The spell is ancient. Rare. Created by fae desperate to protect their lovers from the wrath of the courts. It erases only one thing. One person. Me.

It doesn’t hurt him. Not physically. But it severs the bond. It kills the thread between us. And gods, it already feels like dying.

I whisper the spell, voice shaking.

I see his face behind my eyes. That crooked half-smile. The little crease between his brows when he’s trying not to admit he cares too much. The way he says my name like it’s clean and unscathed.

I’ve never been loved like that before. I never will be again.

The magic fights me at first. It doesn’t want to be used. But I force it. Will it. Because this is the only way to protect him from me—and from what Seraphiel plans to make of us both.

By the time I return to the loft, the spell is already in motion. I can feel it working. The bond pulling taut. Fraying.

I slip through the door without a sound. He’s slumped on the couch, jaw slack, eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion. The list of allies he was working on lies crumpled beside him.

Even now, half-dead with worry, he’s still trying to save me.

Gods, this hurts .

I step closer.

The light from the window paints him in gold and shadow. His tattoos are just visible beneath the edge of his shirt, old battle scars glowing faintly with residual magic.

He doesn’t stir.

I sink down beside him on my knees and press my lips to his forehead.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his skin. “For loving me when I didn’t think I could be and giving me the hope I need to end this.”

A tear slips down my cheek.

I don’t wipe it away.

“You won’t remember this,” I say softly. “Not the way you should. You’ll know something’s missing. Maybe. Maybe not. But I’ll be gone. And you’ll be safe. That has to be enough.”

He shifts slightly, murmurs something I can’t hear.

My heart cracks in two.

“Goodbye, wolf.”

I walk out the door and don’t look back.