The fortress was burning.
Not with mortal fire — this was something older, blacker, alive. It crawled over the walls like ink devouring parchment, licking up the battlements, swallowing the crimson banners of Marcus's reign. Every flare screamed, every ember breathed. The Court that had once fed on blood was now choking on smoke.
And I was running through it.
Liam's body in my arms.
The bond pulsing weakly between us, faint but there — proof that my sin had worked.
His head lolled against my shoulder, hair streaked with soot, face ghost-pale except for the blood I'd spilled to save him. He was cold — too cold — but the bond tethered him still. I could feel the faint rhythm of unlife thrumming through him. He wasn't gone. Not yet.
The corridors of the Crimson Keep stretched before me — twisting stone veins I'd memorized through months of imprisonment. Only now they were alive with chaos: guards screaming, thralls scattering, flames painting everything in pulsing red.
Shadows curled along the ceiling as I ran.
Not normal shadows — mine.
They reached for me like claws, clearing the way, shoving aside debris, dragging the living from my path. Some part of me recoiled from their eagerness, their hunger, but another part — darker, colder — accepted it.
Every step echoed like a heartbeat.
Every breath was smoke.
Every thought screamed the same name: Liam.
A roar split the air behind me — the heavy crash of something enormous.
Kaylan.
I didn't have to turn to know her voice. It cut through the chaos like a blade forged for vengeance.
"ARIA!"
The word tore down the hall, heavy with fury. "You think you can steal from him? You think you can steal from me?"
I didn't slow.
The stairway ahead spiraled down into the lower gates — the only path left before the fortress cliffs dropped into the storming river below. The air shimmered with heat and blood. Every breath scalded.
Kaylan's footsteps thundered closer, armor clanging against stone. "You can't hide behind that thing forever!" she shouted. "He's dead. You can't bring him back!"
I didn't answer. Couldn't.
Because in my arms, Liam's lips parted — a sound escaping that wasn't breath. A whisper, faint and broken.
"Aria…"
It was barely a word.
But it was him.
My legs nearly gave out.
He was waking. No — not waking, exactly. Something deeper was stirring, slow and terrible, in the space between heartbeat and hunger. I could feel it through our bond — the ripple of death's boundary bending around him.
"Hold on," I whispered. "Just hold on for me."
The shadows around us rippled like a tide. They pressed closer to his body, sinking into his skin as if stitching him together from the inside. Every time they did, he convulsed once, sharply, then fell still.
Kaylan rounded the corner, blades drawn. Her armor glowed orange from the reflected fire. Her eyes — silver, bright with rage — locked on me.
"Put him down," she snarled. "Marcus ordered the body burned. You're already dead. Don't make me—"
Her words cut off when the torches around us dimmed. One by one, their flames inverted, burning black instead of gold. The corridor darkened, every shadow deepening until only my eyes gleamed in the void.
Kaylan hesitated. "What—"
The walls trembled.
The shadows that clung to the ceiling unfurled — long tendrils reaching down, slithering along the stones. They brushed her boots. Her armor. The tips of her hair.
She moved to slash them away. Too slow.
They struck.
One wrapped her wrist, wrenching the blade from her hand. Another coiled around her throat, dragging her off her feet, slamming her into the wall hard enough to crack the stone. She choked, clawing at the black coil as her feet kicked uselessly.
I turned toward her slowly, every motion trembling with exhaustion. "You said I'd learn what loyalty means," I said. "Do you know what it means now, Kaylan? It means I don't burn for your master."
Her snarl was pure venom. "He'll find you. He always finds his toys."
"I'm not his toy."
I raised a hand. The shadows obeyed, tightening once—then throwing her aside like a broken puppet. She crashed through a wooden beam, rolling to the ground, coughing blood but alive. Barely.
I didn't wait.
The gates were ahead — wide iron teeth framing the world beyond.
Outside, the air howled. Rain lashed sideways, and lightning broke open the sky over the river gorge.
The storm was waiting.
I clutched Liam tighter and ran.
The final door stood ajar, warped from the fire. Two guards tried to block my way. I didn't stop to fight. My shadows lashed forward, impaling them both through the chest. They didn't even scream before the darkness pulled them apart like smoke unraveling in wind.
I stumbled into the open air.
Rain hissed against the burning fortress behind me. The world stank of ash and blood.
The cliffs fell away ahead — a plunge into a maelstrom of black water far below.
The river — swollen, violent, endless.
I turned once. The keep was a cathedral of fire now, every tower bleeding flame into the clouds.
And there, on the highest balcony —
Marcus stood.
Unmoving.
Watching.
Our gazes met across the distance.
Even through the storm, even through the rain, I felt it — the weight of his amusement. His control. His permission.
He was letting me go.
The realization hit like a blade between ribs. He wanted this. He wanted to see what his creation would do, how far she'd fall before she broke.
I hated him.
But I feared how much of him was already in me.
Liam stirred weakly against my shoulder. His pulse fluttered, then caught again. His breath was ragged, shallow, wrong. But alive. The shadows held him together like black silk threads.
I looked down at the storm below. There was nowhere else to run. The Nightwalkers would hunt me; the Court would burn me. Marcus would follow — when he wanted.
"Hold on," I whispered again, more to myself than to him.
Kaylan's voice rose behind me, shrieking over the storm. "There's nowhere left, Aria! Jump, and you'll drown before dawn!"
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I turned back to the burning fortress one last time.
And I leapt.
The wind tore the scream from my throat. Rain hit like shards of glass. The world tilted, blurred, dissolved. Liam's weight was solid in my arms, his blood mixing with mine in the air.
Below, the black river opened like a mouth waiting to swallow us whole.
For a heartbeat, I saw Marcus — far above, still and silent, cloak billowing like wings of darkness. His lips moved, but I couldn't hear the words.
But I jumped.