Page 1

Kieran

I have to save her. I have to save her.

My bare feet bleed as I run through the rough underbrush, my arms aching from the dead weight of Calliope’s body.

Not dead. Not dead weight. She’s weak. She’s just lost a lot of blood.

I glance at the dagger embedded in her stomach, rivers of blood flowing down her sides, onto my torso and hands.

I shake my head, trying to clear the tears and thoughts.

I push harder. I have to get her to the circle.

Silas should have everything gathered. I sent him ahead.

He knows what to do— she gave him the rite.

The Rite of Soul Preservation. She knew she was dying, and my smart girl knew how to save herself.

I just have to get her back to the circle. My brother and my coven will save her.

I’ll deal with the consequences of bringing an outsider in later. I’ll take whatever punishment the Elders have for me, as long as they save her.

Bursting through the last of the trees, my strength leaves me. I fall to my knees. But Silas is there, taking her from me. His face is awash with worry.

“Gods, Kieran. I have her—hurry. It’s ready.”

He lifts her gently and lays her in the center of the pre-drawn circle. It barely registers to me that everyone is gathered. Their questions and shouts of concern are muffled in my ears as I crawl to Calliope.

I won’t leave her. I can’t. Whatever the gods have in store for me, I don’t care, as long as she’s beside me.

I stand, limping to the circle of salt and ash, my heart thudding in rhythm with the ritual drums echoing through the woods.

Candles flicker, casting jagged shadows across the trees and huts like watching spirits.

My hands brush her long black hair back from her face.

Her breathing comes in ragged waves. My fingers are slick with her blood, the copper scent thick in the air, coating the back of my throat.

“This will work,” I say through gritted teeth, my voice shaking with magic and panic. “You’re not dying here.”

Her eyes open—once bright ocean blue, now muted, as if the color itself has given up. They flutter closed again.

Around us, the coven begins the chant, their voices low and rhythmic, the language old and coiled with power.

“Stay with me,” I say again, not caring that my voice cracks. “Just... stay.”

The circle around us shimmers, runes glowing in dull gold. This spell—this ancient rite—it wasn’t meant to harm. It was supposed to bind. A sharing of life, power, breath. Enough to keep her tethered to this world until we found another way. A way that didn’t end like this.

I didn’t hesitate. I never did when it came to her.

My right hand slides over her heart, and the other rests on my own. I can feel our magic vibrating between us, pulsing in time like two halves of a drumbeat.

I begin the words. She echoes me—at first.

Then her tone shifts. Sharper. Louder. Older than the rite itself. I stop.

“Calliope?” I whisper. Her eyes open wide and lock onto mine. The blue now a grotesque red.. Shining. Not with pain.

With intent.

“I’m not dying, Kieran,” she says. Her voice... it isn’t hers anymore. It’s layered with something ancient. Something…wrong. “Not when I can have your strength instead.”

My heart drops. The runes flare crimson.

“No. No—what are you—”

The circle twists, the sigils warping mid-chant. Power cracks through the air like lightning, searing up my spine. My body seizes—frozen in place. I can’t move. I can’t think.

“Calliope!” I shout, my voice splintering.

She only smiles, her teeth bloodstained.

“You offered your life,” she says, as her body begins to fracture under the magic she can’t contain. “I just took more than you meant to give.”

And then it happens. The spell shatters. The coven screams. Magic whips through the clearing, turning beauty into carnage.

One by one, they fall. My sisters. My brothers. Flames tear through the woods, a storm of ash and agony. I can feel my soul unraveling—like it’s being siphoned out through my skin.

And beyond the blaze, just outside the circle, stands Silas. I meet his eyes.

My brother. My blood.

He doesn’t move. “Silas,” I beg. “Please. Help me.” His jaw clenches. “She made her choice.” So did he.

He steps back.

And the locket closes around me like a fist.

I don’t scream. There isn’t time.

Only— Silence. Darkness. And the cold eternity of being forgotten.