Page 102 of Night of Death and Flowers

I rush to her side, holding Calista’s lifeless fingers in mine. Tears fall thick and fast. I hold my beloved’s body, and I am alone, falling into an abyss of darkness.

I open my eyes, struggling to catch my breath. I stare at my hands, my nails biting into my palms.

Once Cyna imparted his final judgment, damning Calista’s soul to the darkest reaches of the Darklands, to be torn apart, I knew I had to stop him. He would have me punished by destroying her. My brother would have had Calista obliterated from existence. I couldn’t let that happen.

Using Calista’s and Arabella’s hearts, I did something I never thought I would—completing a sacrificial ritual. Their deaths bound the magic to spell my siblings into a permanent slumber that could never be undone by anyone but them.

A shudder dances into my bones. They need me. Cali needs me. I need to wake up.

I open my eyes, hot tears streaming down my cheeks as Astraea stares at me.

“Calista,” I splutter and clutch my chest. “I wanted to protect her soul from Cyna.”

The prophecy recites in my mind, as it has for over a century, except now I listen with newfound clarity.

A daughter of creation, doomed with death.

Of course. It was both of them.

Two witches on opposite sides of the same coin—one light, and one dark. Both with the power to awaken the gods.

“You trapped me here, when I did nothing to you,” Astraea says, and I refocus back on my sister. “You chose the mortal over me, your sister.”

“Yes,” I confess.

“I always chose you!”

“I know,” I say, tears sliding down my cheeks as it all settles back uncomfortably in my heart.

“Soon I will awaken.”

I shake my head. “I can’t allow that. I’m sorry. But I must protect Calista. She remembers nothing from her past life.”

Astraea nods. “You should be glad about that. If she did, she’d likely hate you. Yet, I see she is still a murderer. The essence of your magic is still attached to her soul. You must let her go, Azkiel. For all our sakes.” She pauses, her eyes widening. “We created this world, and the mortals worship us. What of those who worship you, who trust you? Will you damn everyone for one girl?”

The answer comes all too easily. “Yes.”

“Then we continue to find ourselves on opposite sides of this war.”

Astraea fades into a pit of darkness. She pulls on my magic, weakening me as I am forced out of my dream. My eyes fling open, and I turn onto my side, my heart pounding against my ribcage, each beat a desperate ache as adrenaline courses through my body.

Staring down at me through tear-stricken, bloodshot eyes, I find Calista standing over me.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” she rasps, her voice shaking.

Words evade me as I take in her beauty, her essence. Every micro movement in her wavering frown is a memory of when we had spent a life together. “What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up.

“Ari’s gone. She spiked us with Nocturnum Somnus.”

Fuck.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” she asks, eyes bulging.

“She’s gone to the temple,” I say, realizing the dream was a distraction, so Astraea could hold me in my sleep while the sister escaped. “She will be dead any moment now. They’re coming for you. I must get you out of here.”

She pulls her hands from mine, then paces to the other side of the forest clearing. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“I won’t let you go,” I warn and rise to my feet, standing in front of her. The odds were always against us. Gods were never supposed to fall in love with mortals. The endings were catastrophic. Even now, as I see the darkness steadily creeping into her fingertips, with my magic consuming every inch of her, I still can’t stop myself.

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