Chapter 116
*Jiselle*
The dream didn’t come softly.
It crashed into me like a second soul–uninvited, undeniable. One blink, and I was somewhere else. The world had changed around me, but my body didn’t move. I felt it instantly in my bones–this wasn’t a dream.
It was a memory.
But it didn’t belong to me.
I was lying on scorched ground, warm and split like skin that had bled too much light. Smoke curled upward in slow, deliberate swirls, every tendril sweet with cedar and ash. The air was heavy–thick with power, with grief, with a silence that had weight. The sky overhead was torn down the middle–one half burning, the other frozen in starlight.
And beneath my ribs, a name pulsed.
Eira.
I sat up slowly, bracing against the ground, and the magic in my body felt wrong. Not unfamiliar, just… not mine. The moment I inhaled, I tasted age. Centuries. Every breath was full of echoes. Power. Purpose. Pain.
Then I saw her.
She stood not far ahead of me, at the edge of a shattered altar. Her hair–long, pale, braided with bone and ash–was caught in the flicker of firelight that circled her like a serpent. Her back was straight, her shoulders squared, but the weight on them was unmistakable. Not posture. Burden.
I couldn’t see her face, but I didn’t need to.
I felt her.
And I understood.
1
The first Sovereign.
Eira.
She raised a blade.
The same blade carved in prophecy, etched in flame–the one I had seen in every vision, every ruin, every ancient retelling. It pulsed in her hand like it knew what was coming.
A figure knelt before her.
Not cowering.
Waiting.
His head was bowed, and his presence was like a shadow and a storm in one body. Even in silence, he radiated power- Veilborn magic like a heartbeat in the void. I knew before she spoke.
He was her mate.
Her tether.
Her equal.
And she was about to destroy him.
Her voice cracked the air. “I must.”
He didn’t argue. Didn’t plead.
Instead, he looked up.
His eyes–gods, his eyes–they held her so gently, so completely, I thought I might break just witnessing it.
“You don’t,” he whispered. “You choose to.”
She trembled, and for the briefest of moments, her grip on the blade faltered.
But she didn’t let go.
She swung.
And the world tore.
Fire exploded around them–not out of anger, but release. Like something ancient had been waiting for her to choose. I screamed, but no sound came from my throat. Only light.
The vision didn’t end.
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Chapter 116
It twisted.
I stood in her skin now.
My hands held the bloodied blade. My knees buckled beneath me as his body collapsed beside the altar, smoke curling from his chest where the magic had left him.
And there was no prophecy singing now.
No praise.
No gods.
Just silence.
And a girl with fire in her chest and ash on her hands.
I felt her break.
And when she fell, I fell with her.
I woke screaming.
The tunnel walls swam before my eyes, the scent of old stone and residual magic grounding me only barely. I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened like something still burned inside me, like her name had carved its way under my ribs.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until Nathaniel’s arms wrapped around me.
He didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t ask what was wrong.
He just held me, and that was enough to stop me from shattering.
I curled into his lap like I had in the chamber near the gate, his cloak sliding around my shoulders, his warmth bleeding into mine.
“I saw her,” I whispered against his chest. “Eira. I saw what she did.”
He shifted to look at me, hands steady, heart thudding just fast enough for me to count.
“She killed him,” I said. “Her mate. Her Veilborn. She believed it was the only way to stop herself.”
His jaw tightened. He said nothing.
“She thought it was love,” I continued. “Thought giving him up would protect the world from her. But it didn’t. The prophecy didn’t save her. It swallowed her.”
His arms curled tighter around me.
“She stopped being a person the moment she let the prophecy make her choices.”
“I know,” he said softly.
I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.
“I don’t want to become her.”
He didn’t blink. “Then don’t.”
His voice was calm. Grounded.
The same voice that had said my name at the gate.
The same voice that had pulled me back when the flames nearly took me.
The same voice I had loved before the world broke open.
“She believed becoming the flame was the only answer,” I murmured.
“She forgot she was more than a spark,” he said. “And she was alone.”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“You’re not.”
It was so simple.
So quiet.
But I clung to it like air.
Nathaniel’s hand cradled my cheek. “You’re not her, Jiselle. You have the fire, but you still feel. That’s the difference.”
My lips trembled. “What if I still break?”
“Then I’ll break beside you.”
And I believed him.
Chapter 116
Because he didn’t look at me like a prophecy.
He looked at me like a person.
Flawed. Fractured.
But whole enough to be held.
Because he didn’t look at me like a prophecy.
He looked at me like a person.
Flawed. Fractured.
But whole enough to be held.
And that meant more than fire ever could.
I buried my face into his shoulder, fingers clutching his shirt like I was anchoring myself to the present. The first Sovereign
had chosen sacrifice. Had chosen power and silence and a history written in ruin. But I was still here. Still breathing. Still held.
And Nathaniel?
He was steady, even when I wasn’t.
“Stay,” I whispered, even though he hadn’t moved.
His lips brushed my temple. “Always.”
And for once, I let that be enough.
