I clenched my jaw but didn’t answer.
“She is not just a piece on the board,” Eryndis continued. “She is not your redemption. She is not your ruin. She is all of it. And none. You can’t keep pulling away from what you already chose.”
I shook my head, voice barely audible. “I didn’t choose any of this.”
“You did the moment yousawher. The moment you didn’t look away.”
She stepped forward again and lifted one hand—just a whisper of touch, her fingers brushing my brow.
And then—light.
Aurelia, standing in cracked stone, all four goddess marks alive and glowing across her back. Her skin was streaked with blood and gold. Her scream shattered the sky. Her eyes were nothing but shadow.
Gabriel, on his knees.
A boy clutching his ribs, blood spilling down his side—too young, too familiar.
Kaelith beside Aurelia—smiling. Not triumphant. Not cruel. Calm. Knowing.
And me—frozen.
Unable to move. Watching her fall.
I stumbled backward, the vision ripping free.
Eryndis didn’t flinch.
“You saw what waits if you interfere,” she said. “That is not a threat. It is a truth. Some futures collapse the moment you try to force them.”
I knew what she meant. Interfere by choosing for her. By stepping where she had to walk alone.
I clenched my jaw, still reeling, still trying to breathe past the fire in my chest. “Then why show me at all?”
Her gaze softened, not with pity, but with something heavier.
“Because you keep trying to carry both prophecy and control,” she said. “The goddesses once bargained with your line—a pact made long before Kaelith ever drew breath, one you have lived inside without naming. He means to twist that promise into power. You cannot. If you try to take her place, the path ends in ruin. But if you stand with her—if you let her choose—she may yet survive what awaits.”
My hands shook. “You want me to watch her die?”
“No.” Her veil trembled in the breeze. “I want you to watch herlive on her own terms. I want you to trust her strength more than your fear. You are not her keeper, Malachi. You are her witness. Her choices must be her own—even if they undo you.”
Her gaze burned through me.
Gabriel stepped forward, voice quiet but firm. “Then come with us.”
Eryndis turned slowly at the sound of him. Her veil shifted, catching the moonlight. She lifted a hand and cupped his face. Her thumb brushed beneath his eye.
Tears welled in Gabriel’s gaze before one slipped free. “Surely you can,” he whispered. “Please. I cannot lose you again.” Another tear fell. Then another.
“I’ve waited lifetimes. I’ve knelt in ruin. I’ve bled for the hope of seeing you, hearing your voice, just once more. And now you’re here, and you’re telling me you won’t come?” His voice cracked. “Why? Why stay buried in this forgotten place when the world needs you? When I need you.”
Eryndis’s own tears fell soundlessly, slipping past her veil. She pressed her brow to his, her hands cradling his face.
“I cannot leave this place,” she said, voice breaking.
Gabriel shook his head violently. “Youcan. You must. I’ll carry you if I have to. Is it Kaelith? The other goddesses? Tell me—tell me what binds you and I’ll tear it down.”
I watched them, something unraveling in my chest. The pain in Gabriel’s voice was a wound without bandage.