“You knew it would come to this. I haven’t wavered. I haven’t changed.”
“No, I suppose you haven’t. Not at all.”
A scream tore through the arena. Naomi. His mother and sister sat in the audience, their faces streaked with tears, and the burn in his chest gave way to an ache.
“Say your piece,” Flynn said.
Tobias peered around Flynn, glancing between his mother and sister. “This isn’t your fault. It was my decision.” He tried to offer them the slightest smile. “Rid yourselves of this burden, and know I’ll love you always.”
“Tobias!”
His head spun toward the royal balcony.
Leila.
She charged through the space in her black cloak, shoving aside every guard and royal in her path. “Tobias!”
“Leila!” He shot Flynn a glare, suddenly immune to the sword at his throat. “You will let me speak to her.”
“Get rid of her!” the Sovereign spat.
Guards shuffled around her, and she drew her blade. “Any closer and I gut you,” she snapped. “You know I will.”
Cosima grabbed her shoulder. “Leila—”
Ripping herself from Cosima’s grasp, she pointed the blade Her way. “Don’t touch me, You vile Bitch.”
The audience shrieked, but Tobias was dead to it. Leila. He had failed her.
“Leila…”
She spun toward him. “Tobias.” Her eyes danced over his maimed body. “Oh my God…”
“There is no darkness when you’re near. You are the light. You are everything.” His breathing became desperate. “I love you, Leila. So much. I love you.”
Leila froze, her lips parted. The steel tip at his throat shook, stirred by Flynn’s trembling hands.
It was his time to die.
“All right.” He turned to Flynn. “I’m ready.”
Leila gaped in horror. “Wait!”
“Do it!” the Sovereign roared.
A visible tremor traveled through Flynn, nearly forcing the sword from his grasp. Tobias ignored the screams of his sister, of Leila, waiting as his former brother prepared himself for his first kill.
“Stop!” Leila cried.
Tobias’s eyes darted back to her—and suddenly she was gone, her body bursting into strings of black. A dark cloud exploded at his side, morphing into a familiar cloak.
Flynn staggered away. “What the…?”
Leila charged toward him. “You drop your sword, or I swear to God—”
“How did—?”
She threw back her hood. “As your Savior, I command you, drop your sword.”
Flynn stumbled backward, his sword falling from his hands. The audience behind him mirrored his shock, some shrieking, others fainting instantly.
Tobias staggered to his feet. “Leila?”
She spun toward him, and his vision filled with light—with the glow pulsing from every exposed inch of her flesh.
“Tobias.”
Her voice barely registered. Everything had turned white, the world around him glowing, blazing. So much light. As he fell backward, the last sound he heard was Leila’s voice.
“Oh shit.”
“Strength and peace. Ease the pain. Mend the flesh. Make him as he once was.”
Tobias’s lungs expanded, filling with cool air. Aches and pains splintered through him, a fraction of what they once were—of what they should’ve been. He vaguely remembered torture, a fight, and a white light, and when his eyes opened, the light returned, flooding his vision. He squinted, straining to focus, and the light took shape into the body of a woman.
Leila.
She sat at his side, pressing her hand to his chest. The sun’s rays poured over her, but her flesh rivaled its power, glowing as if lit from within.
She met his gaze. “Tobias, you’re awake.”
He stared into her eyes, which had become unfamiliar, now flaming shades of orange and yellow. It wasn’t until she pulled back from him that he managed to look away, staring instead at the white handprint left where her palm once sat.
“It’ll go away in time,” she said. “Once it’s finished serving its purpose.”
The other handprints were gone, as was the blood, the dirt. He was clean, his gashes stitched, the slashes across his back tight with scabs; days’ worth of healing, yet he couldn’t possibly have been unconscious for that long. He lay on his side in a cushy bed, its white sheets spotted with blood. The shades were open wide, letting in streams of sunlight that brightened the space—a room he didn’t recognize.
“Where are we?”
“Delphi’s chamber,” Leila said. “We’re safe for now. Most of the guards are still at the Culmination—trying to pacify the crowds, apparently.”
The Culmination. Memories returned in jumbled fragments: Kaleo’s head rolling on the sand, Flynn’s sword pointed at his throat, and then that beaming light.
“Did I—?”
“Faint? Yes, you did.” Leila flicked her wrist. “Don’t be embarrassed, it happens quite a lot. It’s this damn light. Such a burden. I can’t exactly change My skin. And I’m certainly not going to cover up. It’s