Page 44 of Shadowkissed

It’s pure grief. Like she’s already mourning something she hasn’t lost yet.

“Seraphiel isn’t just hunting me,” she says. “He’s preparing a ritual. A union rite. One older than the Veil itself.”

My blood runs cold.

“What kind of union?”

She looks down. Her hands tighten in the blanket.

“Full binding. Not just of souls or magic. But ofrealms.If he completes it—if he binds himself to me—he’ll break the last law holding him out of this world. The Veil will shatter and he will be able to claim my power, even what I don’t fully understand yet.”

My throat goes dry. “What happens after that?”

“The dead come back wrong. The sky doesn’t hold. Earth forgets time. Magic mutates. The realms bleed into each other and…” She trails off. Swallows hard. “There won’t be ahumanworld anymore. No mortal boundary. No order. Just the underworld…rising.”

I stare at her. And I see it now. Not just the fear. But theshame.

She’s carrying this like it’s her fault. Like the gods made her into a key and then left her to rust under everyone’s expectations.

And I swear to whatever’s left out there that I’m going to burn this world down before I let anyone claim her like that.

I take her chin in my hand, turning her to face me fully.

“Listen to me.”

Her eyes meet mine. Wide. Shining.

“I don’t give a fuck what ritual he thinks he can use. I don’t care how old the magic is. He doesn’townyou.”

“He thinks he does and that’s enough, Dante. Like I’ve said.”

“Let him think it. That doesn’t make ittrue.”

Her lips tremble.

“I’m serious, Liora.” My voice goes low. Dark. “If he tries to take you—if he tries totouchyou again—I’ll kill him.”

She stares at me, stunned silent.

And maybe she sees it now. The part of me that’s not just shifter. Not just a merc. The part of me that's deeper—older. Guardian-blood and wrath carved in bone.

“I don’t care what he is,” I say, softer now. “God. Fallen. King of rot. I will rip his wings off one by one and drag him back to the pit myself.”

Her eyes brim. And when she speaks, it’s barely a whisper.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

Her breath catches. “You’re not supposed to say that. What if he can hear it? He’s everywhere. You can’t hide from him, I can’t–”

“Screw what we’re supposed to do and screw him. I’m not scared of the dark. Just of losing you.”

I reach for her hand. She lets me take it. And I feel it, right there in the air—between her pulse and mine.

This isn’t fate. This ischoice.And I choose her.

Again and again and again.

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