“Why?” The word tore out of me, my voice breaking around it. My shoulders shook as quiet sobs slipped free, unstoppable now. “Why did you choose Seraphina over me?”
He stared at me as if I’d spoken another language.
“I chose Seraphina over you?” he repeated slowly.
The question hung between us, naked and bewildered.
He truly didn’t remember.
Not the warehouse.
Not the ultimatum.
Not the moment he had looked at me—bloodied, bound, begging—and decided I wasn’t the one worth saving.
That absence hurt more than any blow I’d ever taken.
Because it confirmed the fear I’d buried deepest of all: that in the end, I hadn’t even been important enough to haunt him.
I started walking, my steps uneven, my words spilling out under my breath as if I couldn’t stop them.
I’ll never know why. And I’ll never forgive him. No matter what he does.
Dmitri caught up to me in three long strides and stepped directly into my path.
“Penelope—wait.” His voice was urgent now. “I’m already working on restoring my memories. Quiet doctors. People who don’t answer to councils or families. Whatever they took from me, I want it back.” His eyes searched mine, desperate. “I know I had reasons. I need to know what they were.”
He reached for my hand—not demanding, not forceful. Just there.
I didn’t pull away.
He turned us both toward the compound.
He pulled a slim lighter from his pocket and held it out to me.
“Can you light it?” he asked softly. “Throw it. Let this end the way it should. Let’s watch them burn with the empire they built.”
I shook my head.
The tears came harder, my chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. My knees weakened again, and before I could stop myself, I leaned into him. Not because I wanted to—but because I couldn’t stand on my own anymore.
His arm came around my waist instantly, steady and sure.
He didn’t push the lighter into my hand.
He simply flicked it open.
A small flame bloomed—bright, fragile, alive.
He tossed it toward the open doorway.
At first, the fire hesitated—catching on scattered debris, curling uncertainly along the floor. Then it found what his men had prepared. The change was immediate. The flames surged, racing forward in sudden, hungry lines.
Heat exploded outward.
Windows shattered with sharp, ringing cracks as pressure built inside. Smoke poured from every opening. The glowintensified, orange deepening toward white at the center, swallowing everything it touched.
And then—