Page 66

Daimon

The waves of the Andronicus crashed against the shore. Daimon stood at its edge, hands in his pockets, as he watched a bird fly over the cresting waves. If the ceremony was to start at first light, it was likely almost over.

Evelina would know what he had done when he didn’t report on the border as commander. Zephyr would return to the palace without him, and Evelina would know.

But it would be too late by then. He would already be bound to the Shadow Realm.

He turned around, facing Zephyr. She was still resting her head on the ground, looking up at him with her large golden eyes.

“Up for one last ride, Z?” he said softly.

Zephyr whined, a small and broken cry. She lifted her head and her gaze shifted to the sky. She whined again and heavily laid her head back on the ground.

He walked over to her, his heart squeezing with every step. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

She lifted her head, nudging his hand with her nose. He felt a rush of emotions through their bond: sadness, fear, and…pride .

“You’re proud of me?” he whispered.

She nudged his hand again and this time stretched her wings out, rising to her feet.

He reached for the rope attached to her saddle, pausing when he gripped it. With a final look, he glanced back out at the sea. Then at the cave that had given him and Evelina so much respite from the world, the final place he’d seen her. Lastly, he looked toward the palace, unable to see it through the tall trees of the forest.

He took a deep breath and swung onto Zephyr’s back.

For the final time, he said, “Wings up, Z.”

The air was cool as they flew over the sea. He didn’t know how he would say goodbye to Zephyr, but he knew she couldn’t come with him. Not where he was going.

A pinch of guilt tugged at his stomach for not saying goodbye to the people he was leaving behind. Brielle, Aster, Willow. Brielle would lead them well, and would likely find talented beta fleet members to replace the lost members of their fleet. They would recover without him.

He wondered what they would think of him; if they would think he had abandoned his post or perhaps died fighting. If they would curse his name, thinking he was a coward, or drink ale beside a fire, reminiscing, sharing stories of their time together.

Neither of those options made him feel better.

But this was a path he had to take alone.

Zephyr soared through the sky, alternating between flying high above the clouds and dropping low, skimming the waves of the Andronicus. He knew she was stalling, extending the ride by flying side to side rather than straight there. But he let her, wishing more than anything the ride could last longer too.

Zephyr lowered to the ground as they arrived at the camp. He stayed atop her, looking at his old cabin, now empty and quiet.

Then he looked to the healer’s cabin, seeing the ghost of Evelina through the closed shutter. How many times had he walked through the center of this camp, just to catch a glimpse of her?

He remembered when he was injured, lying on the hard cot, the scent of lilies wrapping around him. Of the way she slowly opened herself back up to him, forgiving him when he didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

The pain he felt in that moment was almost more than he could bear. But he would. He would bear it all for her. For Brielle, Willow, and Aster. For those who could no longer fight, the members of his fleet he would never meet again in Caelum. For the empire he would likely never step foot in again—an empire he was never worthy of inhabiting to begin with.

For all his years of fighting his fate, it amounted to this loneliness. As much as he tried to deny it, he was his father’s child.

Daimon slipped off Zephyr, his chest tight as his feet landed on the dirt. He walked around to face her, dragging his palm along her scales.

“I need you to watch over Evelina for me,” he whispered. “Even if you keep your distance, just check in on her. Okay?”

Zephyr whined.

“Please.” His voice broke. “You know why I have to do this. I need to protect them, just like you needed to protect me.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. Her scales were still cold from the flight. She closed her eyes, a deep rumble coming from her chest.

“May we meet again.”

Warmth shot down their bond, filling him.

He took a step back, his heart nearly tearing out of his chest. Zephyr stepped forward, her eyes wide with panic.

“You have to stay here, Z,” he said gently. “I’ll be okay.”

Tears gathered in his eyes. Losing her was losing part of his soul—a soul that was already tattered and bruised, splintered and broken. Zephyr had been his only family when he had lost everything else—Evelina and the life he knew before. Saying goodbye to Zephyr made it feel real, like he truly would never see this camp again. His fleet. Evelina.

To save the realm, he had to lose it all.

It took everything inside of him to turn his back and walk away. A pain so intertwined with his own seared through their bond. His vision went black and he stumbled a step. He could feel her calling out to him, yanking desperately on their connection to get him to turn around.

She cried out, her whine soft and broken. He couldn’t turn around, couldn’t bear to look back. He walked out of the camp, and then deeper into the forest, until the day turned to night. There wasn’t a specific direction he walked in, no entrance to seek out. But as midnight’s darkness fell like a blanket over the sky, he sent a prayer of shadows to Vidaris. He could feel a tugging in his chest, pulling him where he needed to go.

His soul screamed to turn back, but he kept walking. Because if he didn’t, he couldn’t close the border. He couldn’t give the empire a leg up in the war. And he couldn’t give Evelina the one thing he had left to offer.

His love had no place to go, his body no recourse. All that was left to give was his very soul.

It was the Zenovia Mountains as they always had been, but something shifted. Like a curtain had been raised and he stepped into an in-between place, tucked into a plane that rested between the mountains and the Vale.

Daimon knew the role he was agreeing to step into. It was a position his father had groomed him for since he first met him in the sky. It was the future he had fought against that fate forced him into. It was a knife to the heart he knew he would never recover from, the wounds of fate everlasting .

As he stared into the eyes of death herself, he briefly thought about running away with Evelina. In another reality, he took her hand and led her into the unknown. The two of them would’ve braved untamed forests alone, seeking refuge in a house they built together, living off the land and in blissful happiness.

But that wasn’t their reality.

Daimon never thought he would be the man to have a happy ending, and now he knew how right he had been. This darkness was always meant to take him.

He was in the goddess’s domain now, her strength palpable. Her power had likely doubled since the last attack; there were so many deaths, so many souls fed straight to the Vale.

Screams wailed in the forest ahead of him, an off-tune chorus that grated against his ears. Shadows wound through the trees, followed by vague outlines of what looked to be people, before they disappeared.

He had never seen something like this in all his time in the mountains. All of this was closed off from the living, but Vidaris was lifting the veil for him now.

A chill ran down his spine. He was at the edge of the Shadow Realm.

“Are you ready to bind the deal?” Vidaris’s sultry voice was thick with bloodlust, a companion to the greed in her eyes. “My brother Nyx did a wonderful job with you.” She was encased in shadows crackling with energy and streaks of light—the same as the Furies.

Daimon raised his chin, grinding his teeth together as he held her gaze.

“I’m ready.”

Her eyes flashed with delight, her hair floating around her in dark, wispy tendrils.

In the back of his mind, Daimon knew all along that fate would push him to this point—of having to decide if he would truly become Vidaris’s puppet. A sword that felled the ghosts haunting the Shadow Realm, torturing souls and delivering them to her.

“I’ve been waiting for the one who could finally fulfill the role of Shadow Lord. A creature both god and fae, a foot in each world. It’s time for you to bind your blood with mine and mine with yours,” Vidaris said with a sharp curve of her lips. “Everything you are, everything you create, and anything that belongs to you will belong to me. This power you will be given is not a gift, but a trade for your life and all you own.”

Vidaris held up her hand, her nails elongated into long sharp points. With a quick swipe, she sliced her finger across her palm. Black blood pooled up from the cut as she held it out to Daimon.

“A fate sealed with blood and bound by promise. Do you agree to serve your remaining days with me, son of Nyx, wielder of shadows and dreams, as my commander of darkness?” Vidaris asked, hunger in her dark eyes.

It was what Daimon had always avoided. But he could already feel his shadows pressing out across the realms of the living and dead, stronger than ever. Nyx was right; he could block the mountains with this power.

He nodded his head, holding his chin high.

She reached forward and snatched his wrist, pulling it toward her. With another quick swipe, she slashed her nails down his palm. He hissed at the sudden sting of it. She pressed her palm to his, their blood mixing.

A searing pain started in his hand, scorching a path up his arm and throughout the rest of his body. He could feel the oath searching every inch of his soul for his Essence, corrupting it, changing it, and turning it into something new entirely.

There was no going back.