Page 144 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

Everything hurts.

The pain tearing through my chest makes me feel like my bones are being slowly ground into dust. Every breath is a curse—but also a reminder that I’m alive.

Because of Sabine.

She saved me.Of course she did. The stubborn, beautiful thing. The only person who could outsmart a god while damn butterflies flit around her head like a living crown. Or were the butterflies only in my dreams? Eh. Awake. Asleep. Doesn’t matter—I can’t get her out of my head. And maybe that’s the point. She’s always been there, hasn’t she? Buried somewhere even Iyre couldn’t reach her.

Pushing me.

Daring me.

Urging me to dream beyond what a street boy fighting in the ring could imagine.

Lying here, half-dead, it hits me—what exactly have I been trying to escape? A chance to change things? To helpabandoned kids like me? All these years, I’ve been hiding out in the woods, or in Rian’s shadow, afraid to take a good look at myself in the mirror.

And see the king I am.

Sabine saw it. Something worth saving. Hell, something worth taking me to death’s door and back again.

So maybe it’s time to step out of the shadows.

And wear the damn crown.

But by the gods, I’m not doing it without her at my side.

Chapter 38

Sabine

Days and nights settle back into their age-old dance around the earth as Basten heals. Each day, I visit him in his curtained-off infirmary room in the Aurora Tower, making sure to open the window wide so he can feel the southern breeze to remind him of home. He cycles in and out of consciousness, slowly improving from weak moans to curses strong enough to make even the most hardened nurse blush.

What can I say? I fell in love with a man with the mouth of a bandit.

My father calls in godkissed builders from the royal army, who use their powers to efficiently clean up the rubble and install scaffolding to repair the castle’s broken southern gate. It feels impossible, but only a week after the Night Hunt, life falls back into a routine in Drahallen Hall. After five days in the dungeon without wine, women, or Wicked Weed, Artain is set free by my father. If you ask me, he got off easy. It’s a thought I share with anyone who will listen—pointed ears or round.

It was only a game, everyone laughs off.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a game at all. A game is a fantasy. A pantomime of real life. The fact that the fae court believes our lives are as expendable as wooden chess pieces tells me all I need to know about this place.

About them.

Right now, we have an alliance, but it feels shaky as autumn leaves. I tell myself that it can last—that peace is possible—but something tells me that sooner or later, our fragile deal might fall.

If that happens? I might have to put a permanent end to their games.

Once and for all.

Lately, old memories have been stirring back to life in my mind. About Matron White. About the Sisters. I was just a girl then—naive, hopeful. Blind to how bad things were. Now, those memories take on a different color. I see things I didn’t notice as a girl. I see the violence of the world around me—the storms that raged, the branches that fell—as if nature was answering my silent cries for help.

And then there’s Rian.

I considered him a brother,he said to Tati.Now, I won’t stop until he’s muzzled. Chained. Broken as a hunting dog that bit its master and will never see sunlight again.

When Basten and I leave this place, I won’t just walk away. I’ll carry vengeance with me. I’ll destroy everyone who’s wronged me, break every hand that’s fallen on me in violence.

One by one.

I’ll ruin them all.

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