All I have to do is let go.

The dark presence pulses around me, sensing my hesitation. The air grows thick, charged with something ancient and hungry.

"That’s it,"the voice croons."Sever it. Say his name one last time, and it will all be over."

My lips part.

Dain.

His name is a phantom on my tongue, a ghost in my chest, a brand in my soul.

A new whisper slithers through the air. Softer. Desperate.

"No, don’t listen."

I freeze.

The voice isn’t the dark presence. It’s her.

Amara.

My head snaps up. I stagger to my feet, my pulse hammering as a shiver rakes down my spine. The ruins shift. The air warps, heat rippling around me as the past bleeds into the present.

A vision flickers to life before my eyes.

A woman stands before a massive stone altar, her hands shaking as golden light pulses from her palms. Magic crackles around her, coiling like living fire.

I know her face.

She is me.

No. She is Amara.

Her lips part, but her voice doesn’t belong to her alone. It belongs to me, too.

"Please, don’t listen to him. Don’t make the same mistake I did."

I stumble back, my heel catching on loose stone. The ruins blur around me. The magic in my veins surges, pulsing with something wrong.

"I never wanted this for you."

"Shut up," I whisper, pressing my hands to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. "You’re not real."

"I am. And if you let go of him now, it will be too late."

The darkness surges. The presence snarls, its voice twisting into something sharp, vicious.

"She lies. She always has. Do not trust her."

I can’t breathe. The ruins are spinning, my body trembling under it all.

Dain is leaving me. The bond is snapping. The dark presence is waiting.

And Amara is begging me not to make the same mistake she did.

Tears burn my eyes. My chest tightens, my body shaking as the choice crushes me.

What am I supposed to do?