Chapter 4

The twelve hours were almost up. My body had already reached its breaking point.

When that lightning bolt tore through my chest, it had shattered my organs.

Without Lupa, the wolf's powerful healing had been ripped away. The abyssal venom ran unchecked now, corroding my heart without resistance.

I lay sprawled on the cold stone like something already dead. Every breath brought up black blood thick with fragments of my own insides.

The countdown in my mind ticked silently toward the final minutes.

I knew that even if the dragon's fire didn't come, this body wouldn't last much longer.

Outside, music drifted through the air. Today was Othlan and Iliya's wedding.

The entire elven court had been transformed into something out of a dream, while my corner remained steeped in the stench of blood and decay.

I convulsed and spat up another mouthful of black blood.

The tent flap tore open.

Othlan stepped inside wearing his ceremonial robes—all gleaming silk and gold thread. He'd probably just stopped by to make sure I was dead. Couldn't have a corpse ruining his big day.

"Still alive?"

He looked down at the blood pooling around me, his expression cold and irritated. "Did you really think destroying your wolf and starving yourself to death would make me feel guilty?"

I couldn't even lift my eyelids. Just stared at him through unfocused eyes.

When I didn't answer, he scoffed.

"Stop playing dead for sympathy. I've already ordered the physician to bring the highest-grade elven medicine. Even if you're a broken thing without a wolf, I'll keep you alive."

"I know you're bitter about losing your wolf. Stay here today. Don't show up at the wedding and upset Iliya. Once you've healed, I'll let you stay in the palace as a lower servant." His tone suggested he was being incredibly generous.

Even now, he believed it. That if he tossed me a few scraps, I'd come crawling back like I always had. Like a dog with a broken spine, still wagging its tail.

But I only closed my eyes.

Deep in my mind, the dragon's voice rang out.

"Warning. Abyssal fire locked. Soul severance in ten seconds."

Ten...

I counted silently.

"Are you listening to me?" Othlan stepped closer, annoyed by my silence. He reached for my shoulder.

Nine... Eight...

I used the last of my strength to lift my head and look at him. And I smiled.

Not sad. Not angry. Just free. And mocking.

"What are you smiling at?" Something about that smile made him hesitate, unease flickering across his face.

Seven... Six...

I spoke softly, blood bubbling past my lips. "Othlan... do you remember what you said to me when I took that fatal blow from the Abyss King?"

He froze.

Of course he remembered. He'd held me—covered in blood, my arm severed—and sworn through tears that he'd never betray me. That half the throne would always be mine.

Five... Four...

"Don't bring up the past on my wedding day!" He cut me off sharply, like I'd stepped on a nerve. "What are you trying to do?"

Three... Two...

"One."

"The pact is sealed."

I looked up at him, my voice barely a whisper. "Othlan... I changed my mind."

Boom.

Before he could react, black dragon fire erupted from inside me.

Ancient flames consumed the elven blood bond tethering my soul, then ignited my broken body completely.

Crack.

The shockwave obliterated the tent and the magic wards surrounding it in an instant.

The blast hurled my burning body into the air. I tumbled upward like a comet of black fire, then plummeted toward the open courtyard.

The wedding music stopped abruptly. Iliya and the guests in their finery turned, staring in horror at the flaming figure falling from the sky.

"YVETTE!"

Othlan's voice tore through the air—raw and desperate. He exploded from the ruins and ran.

He moved faster than I'd ever seen him move. A blur across the sky, closing the distance in seconds. He caught me just before I hit the ground, pulling me hard against his chest.

The momentum sent them both crashing down onto the red carpet laid out for his wedding ceremony.

His ceremonial robes tore. His crown rolled away. But he didn't care. He knelt there, holding me.

"Have you lost your mind?! What are you doing?!" His voice shook with fury—until he looked down and saw me.

Then the words died.

My body was turning to ash.

Gray dust crumbled from my fingertips, my arms, scattering in the wind.

"No... what is this fire? What did you do?!" Fear replaced anger. He poured his magic into me frantically, trying to smother the flames, trying to stop me from disappearing.

But his pure elven magic couldn't touch me. The black dragon fire devoured it instantly.

I looked up at his face—twisted with panic—and forced my lips into a smile.

"Othlan..." My voice was barely audible, but I sounded almost happy. "Your servant... I quit."

"Shut up! I order you to stop! Medic! Someone get a medic!" His voice cracked. Tears streamed down his face, falling onto mine, smearing the blood and ash.

I just looked at him calmly as my lower body dissolved into nothing.

With the last breath in my lungs, I whispered:

"I regret meeting you. I regret saving you. But most of all... I regret that Lupa died for someone like you."

My hand slipped from his grasp.

Before it hit the ground, it scattered into embers and ash, blown away on the wind.

My eyes went still. My chest stopped moving.

Othlan knelt frozen on the red carpet of his wedding.

His hands trembled as he reached into the empty air where I'd been. Then frantically touched my neck, my chest—searching for a heartbeat that wasn't there.

Nothing.

The person he'd been holding just moments ago—covered in blood and barely alive—had turned to ash right in front of him. In front of his bride. In front of every guest in his court.

Not even a strand of hair remained.