Chapter 190

The darkness was getting stronger.

Nyra could feel it a living thing coiled in her chest, pulsing with every heartbeat, whispering with every breath. It had started as a murmur, barely audible. Now it was a roar.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to block out the voices. But they were inside her not outside. They were part of her now. Part of the darkness that had taken root in her soul.

“Nyra.” Corvin’s voice cut through the noise warm, steady, anchoring. “Stay with me. Focus on my voice.”

She opened her eyes. They were red again burning, terrible, wrong. But she could see him. She could see his face, his eyes, his love.

“I’m trying,” she whispered. “I’m trying so hard.”

“I know. You’re doing so well. Just keep breathing.”

They were still in the seer’s village in the small room at the inn where Nyra had been resting. The sun had risen hours ago, but the curtains were drawn, blocking out the light. The room was dark and quiet, save for the sound of Nyra’s ragged breathing and the soft murmur of her friends’ voices.

“It’s getting worse,” Ragnar said quietly. He was standing guard at the edge of the clearing, his scarred face tight with worry. “We need to move faster.”

“We’re pushing her as hard as we can,” Roderic said. “Any faster and she’ll collapse.”

“Maybe that’s better than the alternative.”

The alternative. The thing they were all thinking but none of them wanted to say. The thing that Nyra could feel lurking in the shadows of her own mind.

You’ll kill them, the darkness whispered. You’ll kill them all. And you’ll enjoy it.

“No,” she gasped. “No, I won’t.”

“Nyra?” Corvin’s hand found hers. “What’s happening?”

“It’s talking to me. Telling me things. Terrible things.” She pulled her hand away afraid of what she might do if she held on too long. “I can’t—I can’t control it—”

She convulsed.

The darkness surged cold and suffocating and utterly, completely wrong. Her body arched off the ground, her eyes blazing red, her fangs extending, her claws digging into the earth. The whispers became screams a chorus of voices demanding blood, demanding death, demanding destruction.

“Nyra!” Corvin lunged toward her, but Ragnar grabbed his arm.

“Wait! She doesn’t know what she’s doing!”

“I don’t care! I’m not letting her—”

“She’ll kill you!”

“She won’t!”

Nyra screamed a scream of pure, primal agony. The darkness was consuming her, swallowing her whole, and she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t fight it. She couldn’t do anything but scream and thrash and pray for it to end.

Kill them, the darkness hissed. Kill them all. Start with the one you love. Start with—

A sharp pain at the back of her neck.

The darkness receded.

The world went black.

Corvin caught her before she hit the ground.

He had moved faster than he ever had in his life faster than thought, faster than instinct. One moment he was standing beside Ragnar, watching Nyra convulse. The next, he was behind her, his hand chopping down on the back of her neck, sending her into unconsciousness.

She collapsed into his arms, her body limp, her breathing shallow.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

The others gathered around Ragnar, Roderic, Marek, Maureen, Jasper. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with fear. They had all seen what was happening to her. They had all watched her lose control. They had all felt the darkness radiating from her like heat from a fire.

“She’s getting worse,” Maureen said quietly. “Much worse.”

“We need to get her to the palace,” Roderic said. “Now. The royal healers—”

“They won’t be able to help her,” Jasper said. “This isn’t a physical ailment. This is something else. Something dark.”

“Then what do we do?”

The door opened, and the seer entered.

She was ancient and frail, leaning heavily on her gnarled staff, her milky eyes clouded with something that looked almost like fear. She had been tending to Nyra all night brewing potions, chanting spells, doing everything in her power to slow the darkness. But even she seemed uncertain.

“There is only one place that can help her now,” the seer said. “The palace. The royal seer the one who sent you to me she may know more. She may be able to reach the Moon Goddess herself.”

“The Moon Goddess?” Ragnar repeated. “You think she can help?”

“I don’t know. But we have no other options.” The seer reached into her robes and withdrew a small object a pendant, carved from moonstone, glowing faintly in the darkness. “Give this to her when she wakes. She will understand.”

Corvin took the pendant. It was warm in his hand warm and bright and somehow hopeful.

“We need to leave now,” the seer continued. “The darkness is growing too fast. If she has another episode before you reach the palace—”

“She won’t,” Corvin said firmly. “I won’t let her.”

The seer looked at the determination in his eyes, at the love in his heart.

“You are a good man, Corvin Eldritch,” she said. “She is lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

The seer nodded and turned to the others. “You must protect her. Keep her calm. Keep her safe. And whatever you do—do not let her give in to the darkness.”

“We won’t,” Ragnar said.

“We promise,” Maureen added.

The seer handed them each a small talisman, a protection charm, she explained, to guard against dark magic. The villagers, who had gathered to see them off, gave them food and water and warm blankets for the journey.

“Thank you,” Corvin said. “For everything.”

“Go,” the seer said. “And may the Moon Goddess watch over you.”

They gathered their supplies and made their way to the horses. Nyra was still unconscious Corvin carried her in his arms, her silver hair falling over his shoulder, her face pale but peaceful. She looked like she was sleeping. She looked like herself.

But the darkness was still there. Waiting. Growing.

They mounted their horses and rode out of the village, leaving behind the small houses and the kind people and the seer who had done everything she could.

The road to the palace stretched before them long and uncertain and full of danger. But they had no choice. They had to save her. They had to try.

At the palace, the King and Queen received an unexpected visitor.

The royal seer the one who had warned them of the coming destruction, who had sent Nyra to the older seer in the mountains appeared at the palace gates. She was ancient and frail, leaning heavily on her gnarled staff, her milky eyes clouded with something that looked almost like relief and confusion.

“I bring news,” she said. “Important news. You must prepare.”

The King and Queen exchanged glances. They had learned, long ago, to take the seer’s words seriously.

“What kind of news?” the King asked.

“A heavenly being is descending to the earth. Someone from the divine realm. They are coming soon within days, perhaps hours. And they have a purpose.”

“A purpose? What purpose?”

“I don’t know. I cannot see that far. But I know they bring blessings to the land. And I know—” She paused. “I know they are connected to your family. To the prince. To the Moonblood heir.”

The Queen’s face went pale. “Nyra? What about Nyra?”

“I don’t know. But you must prepare. When the heavenly being arrives, you must welcome them with open arms. They are not an enemy. They are a friend.”

The seer turned and shuffled away, leaving them standing in the courtyard, confused and afraid.

In the Moon Court, the Moon Goddess stood beside Soren’s bed.

He was still sleeping trapped in the deep, dreamless void that had held him since the sacrifice. His face was peaceful, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. He looked younger than he had in years the tension gone from his jaw, the furrow between his brows smoothed away.

The goddess sat beside him and studied his face.

“You love her,” she said quietly. “My daughter. You love her more than anything in this world. You gave your life for her. You gave everything for her.”

She paused.

“I have seen many kinds of love in my long existence. But the love of a mate, true love is the most powerful force in any world. It can move mountains. It can bring back the dead.”

She reached out and touched his cheek. He didn’t stir.

“She needs you, Soren. She’s fighting a battle she might not win. The darkness has taken root in her soul. It’s consuming her. And if she doesn’t find a way to stop it—”

She stopped. The tears were falling hot and silent.

“I can’t lose her. Not again. Not after everything.”

She stood and looked at him, at the man who had sacrificed everything for her daughter, at the man who loved her more than life itself.

“It’s time to go home, my boy.”

She leaned down and blew a gentle breath into his nostrils a breath of moonlight, a breath of life, a breath of divine power.

For a moment, nothing happened.

And then—

Soren coughed.

It was a violent, wrenching sound, his body convulsing, his chest heaving, his lungs fighting to remember how to breathe. His eyes flew open golden and bright and alive and he gasped, air rushing into his body for the first time in weeks.

He looked around, confused, disoriented. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what had happened.

But he was alive.

The Moon Goddess smiled a warm, radiant smile that lit up the entire chamber.

“Welcome back to life, my boy.”