Page 46 of To Shatter the Night (Mistlands #2)

Kiara

He’s been deceiving them all with fallacious smiles. I feign ignorance, but as the years pass, I am certain he’s aware of my ruse. I have no doubt he’ ll come for me soon. He already has the boy wrapped around his finger.

Letter from Lieutenant Harlow to Aurora Adair, year 48 of the curse

There’d been just enough energy inside of me to get Jude and his physical body to safety. Outside the temple. Away from Isiah.

The Moon God stood before me now, holding his hands over his face as if he’d been blocking an attack. Slowly, he lowered his arms, blinking rapidly as he searched the room, his body swaying.

I flinched from where I lay on the floor. His handsome face was nearly unrecognizable, and even though Jude had told me the truth of his treachery, my heart still sank at how cold he appeared.

There could be no denying it now. He’d deceived us all.

Isiah whirled to where the three enchanted mirrors had been, finding nothing but shards of glass. He cursed, scanning the room before he lowered his icy eyes to my curled-up form. Confusion swam in those endless depths.

“He’s gone,” he spoke under his breath. “How? He was just here seconds ago, he just—” Isiah paused, his lips falling closed as annoyance darkened his eyes.

It appeared as though time had worked in our favor. Once .

I smiled at the god, my heart lifting. Jude should be far enough away, able to secure an advantageous location to strike. My banishment gave him time to come to terms with his brother’s betrayal, and while my body ached and stabbing bolts seared across my temples, I had never felt better.

Jude would live, if only long enough for a fair battle.

“What did you do?” Isiah peered at the fractured glass, anger flushing his cheeks.

All three mirrors—past, present, and future—were broken as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to their surfaces, setting free all the stolen prayers.

Good . He couldn’t use them ever again. Couldn’t steal what wasn’t rightfully his.

My smile broadened, even as my ribs ached, each inhale producing a searing twinge. There was no trace of magic kissing my insides, and the subtle buzzing I’d grown accustomed to was now gone. I felt only emptiness…and triumph. Isiah didn’t have Jude in his clutches, and that meant I had won.

“He has the blade,” I rasped, grinning wickedly. “And the next time he finds you, he’ll kill you.”

Isiah lunged. Grasping me by the collar, he yanked me up until my feet kicked open air. I fought, thrashing wildly as he brought his face close to mine.

“If he kills me, who will rule the moon and all it watches over? Without me, there’s no rest, no stars, no tides. No dreams . I command the hours of darkness, and soon, I’ll find Jude, even if he has your stolen powers.” Isiah’s gaze softened ever so slightly. “He should’ve understood. If anyone would have, it should’ve been him. You tainted him in some way. Ruined the man he was born to be.” He looked away, losing focus, his stare glossy.

Isiah blamed me and that was fine. He could wring my neck and I’d die with a smile. It was worth it, seeing him lose this battle, even if I wouldn’t be around to see him lose the war.

With a snarl, Isiah released me, and I crumpled to the floor.

He went on to pace, speaking aloud to himself. I imagined he wasn’t used to things not going his way, and he’d played such a magnificent game thus far, all of us pawns. Until I’d gone and tossed the board.

I shoved to my elbows. The room was spinning. I couldn’t overpower Isiah in my state, even if I had the Godslayer in my possession. Whatever I’d done in the depths of the mirror—a place where my soul and reality collided—had cost me dearly.

But I’d fucking done it.

I was alive…and the most impossible part of it all was that I’d given Jude the last piece of Raina’s divinity. He’d found me in the depths of myself, and I’d eagerly offered him all that I was in a place where our souls could touch.

A violent cough rattled my lungs, causing me to lurch to the side, twisting onto my hands and knees. Isiah continued to murmur to himself, and the hint of the shadows whispering at his feet rippled forcefully. Copper filled my mouth and I spat onto the pristine white floor.

Red.

I should’ve known the consequences would catch up to me.

“It’s a tragedy it came to this,” Isiah said, a tear tracking down his cheek. He stilled in place, though his shadows persisted, vibrating, lifting higher and higher up his body like smoke. “Jude isn’t the man I believed him to be, after all.”

A swirl of black enveloped him, silver lights sparking as he vanished.

His magic delivered him somewhere I’d never reach, leaving me alone to die in a room of endless white fog and shattered glass.

I was now a mortal who trespassed upon sacred ground, the trace of the Moon God’s darkness no longer within me. It felt like I was being shredded from the inside out.

My eyes grew blurry. It wasn’t just me left to rot in this place. Emelia, Finn, Jake, Liam—they also were trapped on the other side of the door in the palace.

I took little consolation knowing they’d die together while I’d die alone, in a puddle of my own blood.

Rolling onto my side, I faced the middle mirror, taking in the vortex of spinning black where the glass had once been. At least I’d done one thing to help—freeing the prayers of the realm. Maybe in time, it would make the other gods strong enough to fight Isiah, should Jude fail.

Which he better not.

Another brutal cough had me retching, the warm blood rising up my throat and searing my insides. What I wouldn’t give for a hand to hold right about now. I’d heard tales of how the imminence of death could make someone yearn for comfort, even from an enemy. Hells, I’d settle for Arlo’s hand.

I hope you can hear me now, old bastard , I mocked, staring at the largest mirror’s frame, at the ominous emptiness of its center. I wish you could help me out. It’s not fun dying. Though if you were here, you’d probably yell at me for getting myself killed in the first place.

I laughed at the thought. Or maybe I just imagined I did. He would scream at me for giving up the position of power. Arlo truly was a piece of work…but I missed him.

We couldn’t choose our family in this life, and while he was far from perfect, Arlo had stayed . He protected me the only way a ruthless god knew how. He cared.

My body grew cold, much colder than it should have been. It wouldn’t be long before I’d exhale my last wheezing breath. I tried to conjure Jude and my friends. If I couldn’t hold them, I wanted to be surrounded by their faces.

It was all I had, but my mind refused to preserve their images, and their faces faded, vanishing before I could reach out and grasp them.

Dying, thus far, was not recommended.

A great crash came from above. A splattering of grit fell across my closed lids, which were too heavy to open, and dirt slipped between my parted lips. I couldn’t manage to cough, the dusty air slipping into my lungs, choking me.

Whatever was coming for me couldn’t hurt me much more anyway.