Caelan's POV
Step away from the Maiden, Oracle. Now.
I keep my voice cold and controlled, even though my heart is pounding. I wasn't supposed to arrive until morning, but the gods had other plans. A vision sent directly to my mind: The Oracle conspires against us. Stop her.
Through the wooden door, I hear scrambling. Whispered voices. Then the door opens.
The Oracle Lyris, I think her name is stands there with her chin raised, trying to look brave. But I can see her hands shaking.
Behind her, Sera Ashford sits on her bed, eyes wide with fear.
Looking at her steals my breath, just like it has every time I've seen her over the past five years. She's beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache. Dark hair falling loose around her shoulders. Eyes that burn with barely hidden fire. She looks like she wants to fight the whole world.
I wish I could let her.
Prince Caelan, Lyris says, her voice steady despite her fear. I was just delivering a message from the head priestess
Don't lie to me. I step into the room. The god-marks on my arms are glowing, which means the War God Kyros is watching through me. I hate it. I know what you were doing.
Sera stands up, positioning herself between me and Lyris. She wasn't doing anything wrong.
She brought forbidden texts into your chambers. She's been filling your head with dangerous ideas. I force myself to look stern, even though I want to tell them both to run. That's heresy.
Heresy? Sera's voice rises. Is it heresy to tell the truth? Is it heresy to say that maybe, just maybe, killing innocent girls is wrong?
The god-mark on my chest burns. Kyros doesn't like that question.
Neither do I, because I've been asking myself the same thing for years.
Oracle Lyris, I say formally. You will report to Mother Callista immediately. Tell her you accessed the forbidden archives without permission.
Lyris goes pale. That confession could get her expelled from the temple, maybe worse.
Don't, Sera says desperately. She didn't do anything
It's okay, Lyris interrupts quietly. She squeezes Sera's hand once, then walks toward the door. As she passes me, she whispers so softly only I can hear: She deserves to live.
I know, I want to say. But the words stick in my throat.
Lyris leaves. The door closes. And I'm alone with Sera.
The silence stretches between us like a blade.
So, Sera says, her voice bitter. You're my new prison guard.
I'm here to protect you.
From what? The only thing trying to kill me is this prophecy, and you're here to make sure it happens. She crosses her arms. Don't pretend this is protection.
She's right, and we both know it. But I can't admit it. Not with the gods watching.
My orders are to guard you for three days, then escort you to the Celestial Spire for the ceremony, I say stiffly.
The ceremony where I die.
The ceremony where you save the kingdom.
Sera laughs, but there's no humor in it. Is that what you tell yourself? That murder is noble if enough people benefit?
The god-mark burns hotter. I'm not supposed to question. I'm not supposed to doubt.
But I do. Gods help me, I do.
Get some rest, I say, turning toward the door. Tomorrow will be difficult.
Wait. Sera's voice stops me. Why did you really come early? The truth.
I shouldn't answer. But something about the way she looks at me like she can see past the armor and the god-marks to the person underneath makes me want to be honest.
The gods sent me a vision, I admit. They said someone was trying to convince you to run.
And if I did run? Would you stop me?
Yes. No. I don't know.
The god-mark flares, answering for me. My body moves before I can think, stepping closer to Sera with my hand on my sword.
I would have no choice, I say through gritted teeth, fighting the compulsion. The gods control me through this mark. If they order me to bring you back, I'll do it whether I want to or not.
Sera stares at the glowing symbols on my arms. You're a prisoner too.
The words hit harder than any weapon. Because she's right.
I've spent my whole life being the perfect soldier, the obedient son, the weapon the gods wanted. I've never had a choice about anything.
Just like her.
Get some rest, I say again, my voice rougher than I intended. Then I leave before I say something I can't take back.
I take my position outside her door, standing guard like I've been ordered.
But my mind won't quiet.
I've been visiting this temple for five years, always finding excuses. Checking security. Delivering messages. Anything to see her, even from a distance. I've left flowers at the memorial wall, honoring the girls who died before her. Girls I couldn't save.
I won't be able to save Sera either.
In three days, I'll walk her up the Celestial Spire. I'll watch as they place her on the altar. I'll stand there while they cut her throat and let her blood renew the Divine Barrier.
And I'll hate myself forever.
Hours pass. The temple grows quiet. I should be alert, watching for threats.
Instead, I'm thinking about the way Sera looked at me. Like she saw something in me worth talking to. Like I was a person, not just a weapon.
A soft sound makes me turn.
Sera's door is opening. She slips out, clearly not expecting me to still be here.
We stare at each other.
I couldn't sleep, she says quietly.
Neither could I.
She sits down on the floor, back against the wall. After a moment, I sit too, keeping a respectful distance between us.
Tell me about the god-marks, Sera says. Do they always hurt?
Only when I try to disobey.
Does it hurt now?
I look at her really look at her. Yes.
Because you're supposed to see me as a sacrifice, not a person.
Something like that.
Sera pulls her knees to her chest. I was five when they took me. Do you know what I remember most? My mother's face. She was screaming, begging them not to take me. My father tried to fight, but they held him back. Her voice breaks. I've spent twenty years wondering if they still think about me. If they remember what I looked like.
My chest tightens. I'm sure they do.
How would you know?
Because I lost my mother too. The words come out before I can stop them. I was eight. Her prophecy said she'd die from a plague. The Oracles claimed her death would save others. So we let her die. I clench my fists. But the plague never came. She died for nothing.
Sera looks at me with something like understanding. That's when you knew the prophecy system was broken.
That's when I knew. But I was a child. What could I do?
You could do what you're doing now, she says softly. Question it. Fight it.
I can't fight the gods.
You're fighting them right now. By talking to me like I'm human instead of a sacrifice.
She's right. Every word we share is a small rebellion.
The god-mark on my chest starts burning worse. Kyros is angry. He's warning me to stop this conversation, stop seeing Sera as anything but my duty.
But I don't want to stop.
Three days, Sera whispers. That's all I have left.
Three days until I lose the only person who's ever made me want to be something other than a weapon.
Sera
A sharp crack echoes through the temple. Then another. The sound of breaking stone.
We both jump to our feet.
What is that? Sera asks.
I run to the nearest window. What I see makes my blood freeze.
The Divine Barrier the massive magical shield protecting the kingdom is flickering. Cracks spider across its surface like breaking glass.
That's impossible, I breathe. The barrier shouldn't fail for three more days. Not until after the sacrifice.
Sera appears beside me, staring at the crumbling barrier in horror. Why is it breaking now?
Then I understand.
The gods aren't waiting three days. They're forcing the issue now, making the barrier fail early to terrify the kingdom. To make sure no one questions the sacrifice. To prove they need Sera's death immediately.
My blood runs cold as a voice booms through my mind Kyros himself, speaking directly to me:
The Maiden must die tonight. Bring her to the Spire now, or thousands will die before dawn.
The god-mark erupts in flames of pain. My body moves without my permission, turning toward Sera, hand reaching for her.
No, I gasp, fighting with everything I have. I won't
But my hand closes around her wrist anyway.
Sera's eyes widen in betrayal and terror. Caelan
Run, I force the word out through clenched teeth. When I let go, run as fast as you can. Don't stop. Don't look back.
What are you
I'm fighting the compulsion with everything I have, but I'm losing. My grip tightens on her wrist. My feet start moving, dragging her toward the door.
RUN! I roar.
And somehow, impossibly, I force my hand open.
Sera stumbles backward, free for just a moment.
Go! I shout.
She runs.