Page 357 of Burn of the Everflame

Twice.

Sagged.

Then slumped, lifeless, to the ground.

83

LUTHER

“You did it.”

The words came out like a breath, like months of tension and fear and anger and the weight of the war and all its consequences leaving my body in a great exhale. I fought the smile spreading over my face, and the smile won.

“Diem, you did it.”

I grabbed her off her knees and wrapped her in my arms. “You saved Emarion. Thank the Blessed Kindred. No—” Relief bubbled out of me as laughter as I clutched her against me. “—thank the Old Gods. That Fire . . . it’s incredible. You are incredible.”

Diem didn’t speak, or nod, or even drop her sword. I felt no emotion from her over our bond. Shock, perhaps.

“I knew you were meant to save our people,” I said. “From the moment I saw you, I knew. And you have become everything I believed you would be.” I drew her into a kiss, though my grin was so wide and so relentless, I could barely keep my mouth against hers. “You’re a force,” I whispered. “A goddess. A Queen. You’re⁠—”

The taste of salt hit my lips, and I leaned back, surprised to find her face streaked with tears.

You heartless idiot, I scolded myself. Her brother had just died, and I knew how badly she’d wanted to avoid taking Ophiucae’s life. How callous could I be, celebrating while she mourned?

I quickly tucked my joy away, schooling my expression to a stoic slate. “He gave you no choice. Even if you’d let him live, he would always be a risk to this world. This was the only way.”

Diem winced.

I cupped her face and stroked a thumb across her cheek, trying to goad something out of her that didn’t look so much like despair. “You made your people proud. You gave them a chance to start a new era. One of peace. And you and I get the future we’ve earned.” I flashed a tentative, teasing smile. “We’ll finally get our goats.”

A sob tore out of her, her shoulders hunching forward. I folded her into my arms and held her close.

“You can rest now, my heart,” I murmured into her hair. “It’s over.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

I sighed. “I know. Bringing the survivors together won’t be easy. It will be a long journey, but we’ll walk it together.”

She slid one hand to my chest. “No, Luther.” She gently pushed me back. “We won’t.”

I frowned. She took my hand, turning it over, and set the handle of her sword in my palm.

“You promised to obey me,” she said, curling my fingers around it. She could barely get the words out, her voice weak and breaking. “You have to keep your word.”

She reached for the fastenings of her armor, loosening them until her pauldrons and breastplate fell away. She tugged at the collar of her leathers and pulled it down to expose the mating mark over her heart. With trembling fingers, she took my hand again and slowly guided the sword up, placing its tip on her mark.

I jerked back, throwing the sword to the ground. “What the fuck are you doing?”

She reached down and picked it up, holding the handle out to me. “You have to do it fast, before Ophiucae heals.”

“He’s dead, Diem. It’s over.”

“Not yet,” she murmured.

I staggered back, physically repulsed by what she seemed to be suggesting.

“‘Life for life,’” she said, echoing the words I knew the Umbros Queen had once told her. “I can’t kill him without the heartstone’s magic . . . and the heartstone always requires a cost.”