Aria's POV
Guards swarm us like angry bees.
"Seize them both!" High Priestess Seraphine screams, her beautiful face twisted with rage. "Kill the girl if you must—just bring me Ravenor's heart!"
A sword whistles toward my throat. I can't move—my legs won't work, frozen with terror. This is it. I'm going to die in this temple, and everyone will remember me as the fraud who pretended to be chosen.
Then Ravenor moves.
He doesn't just move—he explodes.
Black flames erupt from his body like a volcano. The guard attacking me doesn't even have time to scream. One second he's there, sword raised. The next, he's ash floating through the air.
"Touch her," Ravenor snarls, his voice deep and terrifying, "and I'll burn this entire kingdom to dust."
More guards rush forward. Stupid. Don't they see what he just did?
Ravenor's wings spread wide, blocking out the temple's light. His golden eyes glow like twin suns. He raises one hand, and shadows dance between his fingers—living darkness mixed with flames that burn black instead of red.
The guards freeze. Even Seraphine steps back, her confident mask cracking.
For a heartbeat, the whole world holds its breath.
Then Ravenor grabs my wrist.
His skin burns hot—not enough to hurt, but enough to make me gasp. Through our bond, I feel his power roaring like a caged beast desperate to break free. It's massive. Ancient. So strong it makes my knees weak.
"Hold on," he growls.
"Wait, what—"
Reality tears.
That's the only way to describe it. The air rips open like someone shredding paper. The temple disappears. Suddenly we're falling through darkness so cold it steals my breath. Colors blur past—red, gold, black, silver—spinning so fast I can't tell up from down.
I scream, but the sound gets lost in the rushing wind.
My stomach flips. My head spins. It feels like being pulled apart and crushed together at the same time. The bond between us pulses wildly, dragging energy from my body so fast I can barely breathe.
"Ravenor!" I try to grab onto him, but he's smoke and shadow, impossible to hold.
Then we slam into solid ground.
Pain explodes through my body. I taste blood. Can't breathe. Can't think. Everything hurts.
I force my eyes open. Sky. Blue and endless. Mountains. We're on a mountain peak so high that clouds drift below us like a white ocean.
How did we—? Where are we—?
My thoughts scatter as the bond drains me harder. It's like something's sucking the life right out of my chest. My arms shake. My vision blurs. I try to sit up and collapse again, gasping.
"Stop fighting it," Ravenor's cold voice cuts through my panic. "You're making it worse."
He stands over me, blocking the sun with his massive wings. Up close, those wings are terrifying—beautiful but wrong. Black feathers mixed with what looks like living shadows. I can see scars cutting through them, places where feathers don't grow right. Three hundred years of torture, leaving marks that won't heal.
I should be scared. He just killed a man without blinking. Just ripped through space itself like it was nothing.
But through our bond, I feel something else beneath his coldness. Exhaustion. Pain so deep it makes my own hurt seem small. And underneath everything—a tiny, desperate hope he's trying very hard to crush.
"Please," I wheeze, still gasping for air. "I can't... it's too much..."
He crouches beside me, studying my face with those burning golden eyes. "You're weak. The bond is draining you because you have nothing to give. A proper Phoenix Keeper could handle this easily."
"Well I'm not—" I cough, tasting more blood. "—not a proper anything."
Something flickers across his face. Is that... concern? No. Must be the pain making me see things.
He touches my forehead with one finger. Heat flows through me—gentle this time, like warm honey instead of fire. The bond stops pulling so hard. I can finally breathe.
"Better?" His voice sounds different. Less cold. Almost... kind?
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Ravenor stands again, putting distance between us. When he speaks next, the coldness is back, like armor sliding into place. "You'll live through tonight. Tomorrow morning, you tell me everything—what's happened to the kingdom in three hundred years, why the priesthood fears you, what you know about Phoenix Keepers."
"I don't know anything about—"
"Then you'll die useless." He turns away, wings folding against his back. "And when the bond breaks with your death, I'll be free to burn that temple to ashes. Maybe that's better anyway."
My chest tightens with anger. "You saved me just to let me die?"
"I saved you because killing you in front of Seraphine wouldn't have been satisfying enough." He doesn't even look at me. "When you die, I want it to be on my terms."
Liar. Through our bond, I feel the truth—he's terrified. Not of me dying, but of himself. Of what three hundred years in prison turned him into. Of the monster he's becoming.
"I'm not going to die," I say, forcing myself to sit up even though everything hurts. "I survived twenty-three years with people who hated me. I survived watching the boy I loved betray me. I survived the phoenix fire choosing me when it shouldn't have." I meet his eyes, refusing to look away. "I'll survive you too."
For the first time, he really looks at me. Studies me like I'm a puzzle he can't solve.
"Why aren't you crying?" he asks suddenly. "Your whole world just collapsed. Your family disowned you. Your lover chose someone else. The priesthood wants you dead. You should be broken."
I think about Celeste's cruel words. Dorian's laughter. Lyanna's smirk. The way everyone I loved threw me away like garbage.
"I am broken," I admit quietly. "But I'm still here. That has to count for something."
Ravenor stares at me for a long moment. Then he turns away again, walking toward the edge of the peak.
"Get some rest," he says without looking back. "Tomorrow, everything gets worse."
I want to argue, but exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. My eyes drift closed against my will.
Just before I fall asleep, I feel something settle over me—warm and soft. Through half-open eyes, I see one of Ravenor's wings stretched over me like a blanket, blocking the cold mountain wind.
He's still standing at the cliff's edge, staring down at the kingdom far below.
And through our bond, I feel what he's thinking about.
Revenge. Burning temples. Making Seraphine scream the way she made him scream for three hundred years.
But underneath that rage, buried so deep he probably doesn't notice it himself, is something else. Something that makes my heart ache.
He's thinking about my mother. About a woman named Meridian who he loved and lost.
About the daughter he couldn't save.
I want to say something, but sleep drags me under before I can.