Page 76 of Too Dangerous To Die

A call.

I step closer to the artifact again, hand hovering just above its surface. The glyphs shimmer and align into clear words this time, and I read them aloud, voice steady despite the chill crawling up my spine:

“Here lies the broken flame, shattered soul of she who was once Medea. Bound in blood. Sealed in pain. To wield is to awaken. To awaken is to surrender.”

Rhaegar curses under his breath.

I don’t move.

It takes a second for the meaning to fully register.

“It’s alive,” I breathe. “This isn’t just some relic or tool of power. It’s a prison.”

Rhaegar steps between me and the spire, face grim. “A prison with Medea still inside.”

I nod, slowly. “Or… part of her. The part that couldn’t die. That was torn from her when she fell.”

His expression twists. “Then anyone who touches it long enough?—”

“—risks being possessed,” I finish, voice low. “She’s in there. Whispering. Waiting.”

Rhaegar backs away, his whole posture shifting into defensive fury. “Then we destroy it.”

“No,” I say sharply, stepping between him and the artifact. “We can’t.”

“Youcan’tbe serious.”

“I am.” I turn to him, my voice shaking now. “If we destroy it, we lose the only thing that canstopher. That can sever the contract. It’s not just a threat—it’s the answer.”

His eyes narrow. “Or it’s a trap.”

“Maybe it’s both.”

We stand there, breathing hard, the artifact pulsing behind me like a second heartbeat. His eyes fall to my hand—still faintly glowing where the magic touched me last.

“You’re already marked.”

I nod. “And I think… that’s why I could speak the language. Why I couldreadher prison.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

I lift my hand. “I can control it.”

“You think you can,” he growls. “But what if you can’t? What if sheusesthat mark to twist your will, like she did with the mirror?”

“I stopped myself then. I can do it again.”

“I saw your face when you said her name,” he whispers. “It wasn’t yours.”

That silences me.

Because I remember it too.

The flicker in the mirror. The vision of my hands bloodied with power. The echo of Rhaegar dying at my feet while I wore a crown of ruin.

But I also remember something else.

His hands pulling me back.

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