Page 201 of The Chains You Defy

I had killed them all.

Art by @smite.jake

Art by @smite.jake

Was I caught in a fever dream?

The scene I’d half witnessed—Harc had attempted to shield me from some parts—as I fought to stay conscious was one I’d never forget.

Yes, Dion was often plagued by murderous ideations, and once, I’d even found myself in an unsettling dream about him enacting revenge on my parents and late fiancé. What had happened in the ritual hall fell into the same category as the nightmare, just on a bigger scale. Acid burned in my throat.

Unhinged was too tame a term to describe the prince while he’d slaughtered the entirety of the Cuirt an Ghra.

“Revenge has beenserved, Nayana.”

Dion, soaked and splattered with red liquid—I refused to acknowledge what the source had been—preened like a cat who’d brought a mouse home and expected praise.

To gain a few moments, I struggled to rise to my feet, all the while avoiding glancing at the heap of bloody hearts next to my couch. The heavy smell of iron lingering in the air was becoming oppressive and transported more bile upward.

Harc was nowhere to be seen—he’d slithered away when the prince had approached me. Hopefully, he wasn’t gorging on hearts or rolling around in a puddle of blood.

“Caution.” Dion caught my swaying form and, without hesitation, lifted me into his arms. Torn between my fatigued constitution and the disgust at the crimson on his clothes staining my dress and skin as well, I concentrated on taking shallow breaths and not touching him more than necessary. “Can we leave?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. How do you feel? You’re so pale.”

“I’m tired. And nauseous. You’re so bloody.”

“Taken from your enemy,” Dion vaunted with zero recognition of my distress, which was so unlike him. “Sleep, tiny goddess. I’ll take care of you.”

Instead of an answer, a surprised cry escaped my lips as the prince stumbled. “Dion?”

“What the fuck is happening?” His arms tightened around me as he staggered some more.

But no, he wasn’t unsteady, but the whole building trembled, and the quaking must have taken him by surprise.

Dion fell into a run, and as I glanced over his shoulder, my eyes widened, an icy hand of dread wrapping around my insides.

Gods, what was that?

On the stage, where the corpses of the Graigh piled, reality was faltering. Like a massive Wild Rift, but so much worse.

Because the collapse didn’t stop.

What—

Behind the rift, I spotted untouched nature, a green meadow—Ivreia, if I wasn’t wrong.

A storm raged in the other world, and the wind picked up on our side as well. Screeches and roars from animals drilled into my eardrums, and when I witnessed a boar touching the tear and disintegrating, I realized how much worse this wound in reality was in comparison to the temporary weak disturbances we’d encountered so far—everything on the Ivreian side that connected with the gaping anomaly shattered and warped the Galantan remains. Nothing alive made it over to us. No, life simply ceased to exist. “Dion. The fabric between the worlds is ripping apart. We can’t stay here any longer, or we could die.” Gasping, I remembered something else of utmost importance. “Harc!”

“Oh fuck. Hold on tight.” Dion had only caught one glance at the horrors behind us and accelerated.

But where was Harc?

Wriggling in Dion’s arms, I craned my neck and was rewarded with an irritated growl. I considered biting the prince so he’d wait for my companion as the tendril suddenly appeared, lunged, and curled around my chest.

“Gods, Harc. I was so worried.”

A calming purr vibrated through the inky strand, and only then did I notice why he’d been absent. My voice cracked as I addressed the impossible piece of sentient magic. “You found my choker.”