Kael's POV
The guards' swords were at my throat, but all I could focus on was Elara's voice fading from my mind.
"Let him go," Seraphine ordered casually. "He's no threat without his magic sword."
They released me, and I stumbled forward. Our bond was stretched so thin I could barely feel her anymore. Just whispers. Echoes.
"Seraphine, please—" I hated begging, but I'd beg forever if it meant not losing Elara.
"Please what? Please don't take the weapon you spent three months searching for?" She examined Elara's blade with the detached interest of someone evaluating jewelry. "You always were too sentimental, Kael. It's a sword. You'll find another."
"She's not just a sword!"
"She's exactly a sword." Seraphine's eyes were cold. "A very powerful, very useful sword that's going to help me rule this Empire properly. Unlike you, who would've wasted the throne on silly things like justice and mercy."
Through the dying bond, I felt Elara's rage. Her desperation. She was screaming, but Seraphine couldn't hear her.
Only I could. And I was losing even that.
"You killed your own sister," I said, trying to buy time. Time for what, I didn't know. But I had to do something.
"Half-sister who was planning to kill me. I simply acted first." Seraphine stepped over Morganna's body without a glance. "That's the difference between us, Kael. You wait for honor and rules and permission. I take what I want."
"And what do you want?"
"Everything." She smiled. "The throne. The Empire. Soulrend's power. And most importantly, the satisfaction of knowing you'll die understanding that I never loved you. Not even a little."
The words should have hurt. A year ago, they would've destroyed me. But now, after Elara's memories had flooded into mine, after feeling what real betrayal looked like, Seraphine's cruelty felt almost... boring.
"I know," I said simply.
She faltered. "What?"
"I know you never loved me. Probably from the beginning, right? Matthias arranged our engagement to get close to the throne. You went along with it because you liked the power. And when Davian offered you more power, you switched sides." I met her eyes. "I'm not even angry anymore. You're just predictable."
Seraphine's face twisted with fury. "You dare—"
"I dare because I've got nothing left to lose." I looked at Elara—the blade in her hands. "Except her. And I'm not losing her."
I lunged. Not for Seraphine, but for Elara.
The guards tried to stop me. Too slow. I wrapped my hand around the hilt, and our bond snapped back into place like a physical shock.
"KAEL!" Elara's voice flooded my mind, strong and clear and furious. "What are you doing? You can't—"
"Watch me."
Power exploded from the blade. The Empress's Echo surged through us, ancient magic responding to our combined desperation. Guards flew backward. Seraphine stumbled.
"That's impossible!" she screamed. "The bond was broken!"
"Almost broken," Elara corrected. "Turns out we're stubborn."
We ran. Not honorably, not with a plan, just pure panicked flight into the forest. Behind us, Seraphine shouted orders to follow.
"This is your rescue plan?" Elara demanded. "Run randomly into the woods?"
"You have a better idea?"
"Several! None of which involve suicide by exhaustion!"
Despite everything, I laughed. Even fleeing for my life, having Elara back felt right. Complete.
"I couldn't leave you," I said.
"Obviously. You're an idiot."
"A heroic idiot."
"Just a regular idiot. Heroic idiots usually have plans."
We crashed through underbrush, Seraphine's forces closing in. My lungs burned. My legs screamed. I'd been running for months, and my body was done.
"Kael," Elara said quietly. "I can't keep us alive if you collapse."
"I know."
"So what do we do?"
I had no answer. We were trapped, exhausted, outnumbered. All the advantages we'd gained by finding each other were meaningless if we couldn't escape.
Then I heard water. A river, fast and loud.
"No," Elara said. "Absolutely not. We already did the suicide jump thing once today!"
"It worked last time!"
"Last time we were lucky! This time we're out of luck and ideas and—KAEL, STOP RUNNING TOWARD THE CLIFF!"
But I didn't stop. Because at the cliff's edge, perched impossibly on a rock jutting over the water, stood a woman.
Not Seraphine. Not Morganna. Someone else entirely.
She was young, maybe twenty, with silver hair that moved like it was underwater. Her eyes were too bright, too knowing. She wore armor that looked ancient—the kind I'd only seen in history books.
"Crown Prince Kael," she said, her voice echoing strangely. "Soulrend. We've been expecting you."
"Who are you?" I demanded.
"I am Nyx Shadowmere, Spymaster of the Resistance." She smiled. "And before you ask—yes, there's a resistance against your brother's regime. No, we're not sure if we trust you yet. And yes, we absolutely know about the talking sword."
"How—"
"I know everything, Your Highness. It's literally my job." She glanced behind us. "Also, Seraphine's guards are about thirty seconds away. So you have a choice: jump with me and maybe survive, or stay and definitely die. I'll let you decide."
"Don't trust her," Elara warned. "We don't know anything about her."
"We don't have time to know anything about her!"
"That's the spirit," Nyx said cheerfully. "Desperate trust is my favorite kind."
Seraphine's voice cut through the forest. "Surround them! Don't let them escape!"
"Time's up," Nyx announced. "Jumping now!"
She grabbed my arm and pulled us all over the cliff.
This time, the fall was worse. No magic cushioned us. We plummeted toward rocks and rapids and certain death.
"THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA!" I screamed.
"YOU THINK?" Elara screamed back.
Nyx just laughed.
And at the last possible second, something caught us. Not magic—a net. A massive net strung across the river, hidden beneath the water's surface.
We crashed into it hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Above us, Seraphine's guards reached the cliff edge, only to find us already downstream, already escaping.
"Welcome to the Resistance," Nyx said, helping me out of the net. "We have safe houses, weapons, intelligence networks, and a disturbing number of people who want to see you reclaim your throne."
"Why?" I gasped. "Everyone thinks I'm a traitor."
"Everyone in the capital thinks that. Out here in the provinces, people remember what you actually did as Crown Prince. Which, for the record, was pretty decent." She looked at Elara. "Also, having a legendary soul-bound weapon doesn't hurt your credibility."
"We're not joining any resistance," Elara said firmly. "We have our own plans."
"Which are?"
"Still figuring that out," I admitted.
Nyx grinned. "Perfect. I love helping people figure things out. It's incredibly satisfying." Her expression turned serious. "But first, there's something you both need to know. About the ritual. About Soulrend. About why Seraphine really wants that sword."
"We already know about the ritual," I said.
"You know about Morganna's ritual. The one that required your willing death." Nyx's smile faded completely. "But Seraphine's ritual is different. Older. More dangerous. And it doesn't require you alive at all."
Ice flooded my veins. "What does it require?"
"A soul-bound wielder's corpse. A blade still warm with fresh blood. And a sacrifice made at the exact moment when—" She stopped, looking at something behind me.
I turned.
Seraphine stood on the opposite riverbank, somehow having gotten ahead of us. In her hands, she held a bow.
Aimed directly at my heart.
"Thank you for leading us to the Resistance, dear husband," she called across the water. "Two birds, one arrow. How efficient."
The arrow flew.
Everything slowed.
Elara screamed.
Nyx dove for me.
And I realized with perfect clarity that there was no way to dodge.
The arrow was going to kill me.
And once I was dead, Seraphine would take Elara and complete whatever horrible ritual she'd planned.
The arrow struck home.
But not into me.
Nyx had pushed me aside, taking the arrow meant for my heart into her own shoulder.
She fell with a gasp, blood blooming across her armor.
"No!" I caught her.
"Stubborn princes," Nyx wheezed. "Always... making me... work overtime."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because..." She coughed. "The resistance... needs you alive. And because..." She managed a weak smile. "I'm really bad... at letting people die... on my watch."
Across the river, Seraphine nocked another arrow.
"RUN!" Nyx shoved me away. "Get to the safe house! East, three miles, red door! Tell them... tell them Shadowmere sent you!"
"I'm not leaving you!"
"YOU DON'T HAVE A CHOICE!"
Her guards appeared, forming a protective wall. Giving us time to escape while they stayed to fight.
Giving us time while they died.
"Kael," Elara said urgently. "She's right. We have to go."
"But—"
"NOW!"
I ran. Hating myself. Hating Seraphine. Hating this world where everyone who helped me ended up bleeding.
Behind us, the sounds of battle faded.
And I knew—whatever came next, whatever we faced, whatever we became—I would make Seraphine pay for every single person she'd hurt.
Starting with me.