The battle had been chaos, with dragons screaming across the sky and lightning cutting through the clouds. Venin everywhere—too many of them, too fast, too strong. But it was the sight of Deigh—falling, red wings shredded, Liam’s form leaping from the saddle to shield Violet—that tore through her like no blade ever could.

He fell.

She ran.

There had been no hesitation. No thought. Just pure, primal need to reach him.

The ground shook beneath her feet as she pushed through the blood and fire. She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as they reached for him. And gods—he smiled. That soft, crooked Liam smile. Even as her tears ran hot and fast down her cheeks and his chest struggled to rise. She cradled him against her, this massive man who had always made her laugh when the world was crumbling.

She wasn’t ready.

She hadn’t said it—hadn’t told him how she loved him. How she’d stayed up at night dreaming of a life with him. And now she was here, holding his dying body while the world burned, and it wasn’t enough.

She needed more time.

But time had run out.

She felt it when his chest stopped rising. When his hand went still in hers. And then she screamed.

Grief lived in her now. Quietly. Cruelly.

Back at Basgiath, she didn’t speak. Not at first. The others tried to comfort her, but nothing worked. She’d rushed to the barracks first, just in time to steal what little was left: the shirt, the letters for his sister, and that small wooden heart he’d carved for her. It was simple. Her name, etched deep into the grain, like a secret he’d wanted to keep forever.

She held it as she broke.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months.

She trained harder than anyone. She volunteered for every mission, every raid, every suicidal scheme. Because the moment she stopped, the grief crept back in. The moment she rested, it was him she heard whispering her name.

She swore she’d never choose anyone again. She never wanted to feel that kind of loss again.

But at night—gods, at night—she chased the shadow of him. Pulled his shirt over her body just to pretend. Clutched the wood-carved heart to her chest as if it could hold her together. Whispered words she never got to say out loud.

And then—on a late patrol, it happened.

They were flying low over the forest, quiet, scanning for Venin camps with Bodhi beside her. The others followed, the air tense and still. Then her dragon saw it. A flicker. A presence. They landed. Fast. Hard. Weapons raised. But nothing could have prepared her for him.

Liam. Standing. Alive.

The others froze. Bodhi cursed under his breath. No one moved. Because something was wrong.

His eyes were red.

His skin—unnaturally pale, shining like porcelain under the moonlight.

He was... changed.

Liam’s POV

Her.

Even through the static, through the flood of power in his veins, he knew it was her.

The one who haunted his dreams. The one his soul kept calling for, over and over again, through every corrupted whisper in his mind.

But the voice wasn’t his anymore. It spoke for him now. The power that kept him walking, kept his heart beating in the wrong rhythm. It told him what to do, how to move, who to kill. And he listened.

Except now—

Now she was standing in front of him.

And he couldn’t move.

He remembered her.

And if there was still a piece of him left inside this cursed body, it was hers.