After Gaia’s judgment, the Fae lay crumpled on the ground, her scream still ringing in my ears. Whatever magic had once flowed through her, whatever power tethered her to Wridel’s balance, was gone. Gaia had stripped her bare. That’s the thing about Gaia’s judgment; there’s no half-measure. She doesn’t just take; she leaves you hollow, a shell of yourself. The dark veil cult’s magic might destroy, but Gaia’s touch ensures you never forget what’s been lost. All that’s left is the unshakable desire to repent, a whisper of regret in the emptiness.

I stared at the Fae’s unconscious form, my stomach twisting with revulsion and pity. “Take her to the bureau,” I said to no one in particular.

But the sentinels moved without hesitation, hoisting her limp body. As they carried her off, I turned back to the sigil, but before I could take a step, Devon caught my wrist and pulled me aside.

“C—il,” he murmured. “That was incredible, but you can’t do it again.”

I frowned, trying to pull free, but he tightened his grip. “Summoning Gaia’s judgment before your coronation is a death sentence. It’s proof that Gaia intends to unseat Loreleia. And that will only make her—make all of them—come at you harder.”

I arched my brow, trying to act calm even as his words sank in. “Why are you so sure they can even get rid of me? Gaia’s protection’”

Before I could finish, he pulled me into his arms. The suddenness of it left me breathless. His embrace was warm and calming, but his voice in my ear was anything but reassuring.

“Because you’re not the first successor Gaia has chosen,” he whispered. “You’re one of many. Do you know how many others stood where you do now? How many successors have come before you in the last three hundred seasons? Do you really think the goddess would limit the role of Supreme Eminence to only three houses in a realm meant to thrive in unity?”

I froze, my arms hanging at my sides. Not the first. Not the only. Gracious Gaia. Realizing this felt like a punch to the chest, not reassuring at all. It was exactly what I’d suspected but refused to say out loud. Gaia’s selection was about survival. The real test wasn’t being chosen; it was living long enough to fulfil the role.

But why? Why would Gaia keep selecting successors only to let them die?

I stepped back, just far enough to meet Devon’s gaze. “And you thought now was the time to tell me this?” My heart was pounding.

“It felt” relevant,” he said with a sigh. “You need to understand. To win this, you must hide your hand and know when to show your strength and when to use tact.”

As I exhaled sharply, I pulled away from his grasp, needing room to think. My attention shifted to the sigil, its energy swirling and pulsing like a heartbeat embedded in the ground. The dark lines of the inscription cut into the earth with a precision that made me uncomfortable.

I crouched beside it, tilting my head as I studied the markings. The power radiating from it felt dense, almost alive, like it was waiting. Could I extract it? Would that stop it? Or was scratching through the inscription, as the Eastern witches did, a better bet? That method was straightforward enough, but this sigil wasn’t simple.

“Are you alright?” Devon’s voice cut through my thoughts. His hand slipped gently into my hair, his fingers caressing the strands before his palm cupped my chin. He tilted my face toward him, forcing me to look at him.

It wasn’t until then that I realized everything around me had faded into white noise. My thoughts were so loud, so consuming, that they drowned out the world. Blinking rapidly, I tried to recentre myself, to bring everything back into focus.

“I’m fine,” I said finally, but my voice quivered.

He didn’t believe me and I could tell from the way he looked at me. He could feel what I was feeling—he always could. And right now, I wasn’t even sure what that was.

Uncertainty? Fear? Frustration? A storm of emotions churned inside me, and he stood steady in its centre, his hand warm against my face.

“C—il,” he said softly. “You don’t have to’”

“I said I’m fine,” I interrupted, pulling away from his touch. I couldn’t stand the way his concern made me feel even more unsteady. I didn’t want to be vulnerable, not here, not now.

Turning back to the sigil, I clenched my fists as I concentrated. This I could focus on. This, I could deal with. I have to.

My mother’s voice rang in my head, calling me foolish. Now, I understood why. She’d seen this happen before; successors chosen, only to die before they could even rise. And now I’d joined that cursed list. Naming me must have felt like handing me a death sentence.

“I can break it,” I said, but the words felt frail, like they might crumble if I spoke them too loudly.

Devon’s hand tightened on my arm, his grey eyes shadowed with concern. “Are you sure?”

“No,” I admitted, letting out a shaky breath. My hands hovered over the sigil, and I willed them to stay steady as I drew a protective layer of water magic around myself. “But we don’t have another option. A sigil’s a sigil. They all break the same way.”

“Disrupt the script,” Devon murmured to me, staring at the glow of the sigil.

I nodded, my fingers hovering just above the cursed lines. “I think it is why the sigils were cloaked. You cannot break what you cannot see.”

“What grade is your oriental magic?” he asked suddenly. “You need to be at least a grand sage to handle dark magic like this.”

I looked at him and could tell he was worried. He didn’t need to say it either. I could feel it radiating from him like an aura. At first, I almost let the urge to reassure him overtake my focus. But I couldn’t give him false promises. Not about this. My eyes darted to the sentinels standing at a respectful distance, the headman lingering awkwardly behind them. There were two inspectors with them now, both watching with suspicion.

“Grand sage or not, a sigil’s still a sigil,” I said, turning back to it. “They’re meant to channel energy. Disrupt the flow, and it’s just a fancy pattern on the ground.”

His frown deepened. “This isn’t just ink,” he said in a taut tone. “Dark magic sigils are infused with blood.”

“No kidding,” I muttered, crouching closer to inspect the lines of the script. The dark energy pulsed faintly, shifting and twisting like it was alive. Of course, blood magic. Whoever had drawn this wasn’t just skilled, they were ruthless. “But sigils have rules. Even nasty ones. I disrupt the pattern, and the energy collapses.”

Devon didn’t move, didn’t step back. I could feel his eyes on me as I traced the lines with my eyes. Every curve, every jagged stroke of the script seemed to writhe, daring me to try.

“C—il,” he said, “dark magic doesn’t play by the same rules you’ve learned. It twists them. Corrupts them.”

I didn’t look at him. “Maybe so,” I said softly. “But I’m betting it still has a weak point. Everything does.”

When he didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder, raising a brow. “You think I know nothing about dark magic? I have’” My voice trembled, but I forced it to steady. “Trust me, I know what I’m dealing with.”

Devon’s jaw tightened, the muscles flexing beneath his skin, but he didn’t argue. He rose to his full height, a silent tower of worry and doubt behind me.

Turning back to the sigil, I hovered my hand just above the swirling lines, careful not to touch it. There was a dense barrier around it, like a crackling pause before a thunderstorm broke. “Grade doesn’t matter,” I said, mostly to myself. “It’s about intent.”

“That’s a gamble,” he grumbled.

“Everything about this is a gamble.” Even without touching it, I felt the dark magic seething against my skin. The lines moved slowly, their energy writhing like trapped smoke under glass. “But what’s the alternative? Leave it here, let the cult activate it, and watch more people get hurt?”

Devon stayed silent for a beat too long. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but firm. “If this backfires’”

“It won’t,” I said, more for myself than for him. “I’ve got this.”

Liar. My hands weren’t steady, no matter how much I tried to hide it. My pulse thudded against my ribs, fast and loud, but I couldn’t let that stop me. I didn’t have a choice.

I focused on the sigil, letting everything else fade away. Its lines were layered, stitched together so tightly that it was nearly flawless. But there—just there—was the flaw. The smallest fracture in the script pattern. The flow of energy was thin there, barely held together. If I could disrupt it at that point, the whole thing would collapse. Or so I hoped. Except for the practice sigils from the academy, I had never broken a dark sigil before, but Devon didn’t need to know that.

I gathered energy, letting it ripple just above my skin like a second layer. With a breath to steady my nerves, I merged it with a sharp thread of my magic and a single drop of blood. Blood magic wasn’t my speciality, but I understood its precision. Carefully, I pressed my finger to the sigil, tracing its delicate lines and scratching through the script’s weakest point like a scalpel slicing through glass.

The sigil reacted immediately. Its energy lashed out violently, and sent a singeing heat shooting up my arm. My breath hitched, but I didn’t pull back. My barrier flickered under the force of the attack, but I pushed harder, pouring my magic into holding it steady.

“Celeste!” Devon’s voice cut through the struggle like he could feel it, his hand gripping my shoulder as if to yank me away.

“Don’t,” I managed through clenched teeth, my focus locked on the sigil.

The lines quivered, fracturing with a sound like splintering ice. The sigil buckled under the pressure, its dark energy collapsing inward before dissipating entirely. A faint scorch mark was all that remained.

I slumped backward, my chest rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath. My arm throbbed like it had been set on fire, but I flexed my fingers and found them still working. A small victory.

Devon was beside me in an instant. “Are you okay?”

I let out a shaky laugh, the adrenaline leaving me light-headed. “Define okay.”

He didn’t smile. His face was stone, and his eyes darted between the scorched ground and my hand, worry etched into every line. Without a word, he took my wrist, turning my hand over to inspect the damage.

“You shouldn’t have taken that risk,” he said.

“I didn’t do it alone,” I replied, pulling my hand free and shaking it out. “When you touched my barrier, your energy connected with mine. It amplified everything. That’s what broke the sigil.”

He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “What are you talking about?”

“Here,” I said, placing his palm against my face before he could pull away. “Watch.”

I drew on his energy, feeling it as it mingled with my own. My water magic surged to life, rippling outward. My eyes burned faintly, glowing with the blue hue of my affinity. I focused, willing the magic to pour outward.

A column of light swallowed us, radiant and impossibly blue, shooting skyward like a beacon. It wrapped around me, spreading through my arm and easing the pain until it was gone entirely. As the light dimmed, the lingering hum of energy settled in its wake.

He pulled back. “What in Gaia’s name was that?”

I flexed my fingers, marvelling at the absence of pain. “You tell me. All I know is that it worked.”

“And it could’ve gotten you killed,” he snapped.

“Could’ve. Didn’t,” I shot back, crossing my arms and meeting his glare with one of my own.

His eyes narrowed, a familiar frustration flickering in them. “Celeste, this isn’t’”

I didn’t let him finish. Instead, I reached up, cupping his face in my hands. The move caught him off guard, his words fading as his breath hitched. “Don’t worry too much,” I said softly, letting my thumbs brush over the deep frown creasing his brow. “We wouldn’t want you to start looking your age.”

His lips parted slightly, caught between scolding me and laughing. The frown on his face eased just a fraction.

“Do you always deflect with sarcasm?” he asked with reluctant amusement.

“Usually.” I leaned in like I was about to kiss him and his eyes dipped to my lips. “But let me be clear: you need to stop berating me every time I do something you don’t agree with. This won’t be the last. I’m your mate, Devon. Don’t stand in my way, help me conquer my obstacles.”

His eyes searched mine, as he considered my words. I didn’t flinch, as much as those grey eyes of steel both intimidated and aroused me. My hands lingered on his face for a moment longer, feeling the heat of his skin against my palms, before I let them fall and stepped back.

“Now,” I said, brushing off my skirt and standing tall, “let’s get moving. Those other sigils aren’t going to break themselves.”

He stayed quiet for a beat, his sharp grey eyes still locked on me. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he muttered, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Good,” I shot back, a smirk tugging at my lips as I turned toward the waiting carriage. “Because I’m not here to be easy. Better start preparing for a few grey hairs, Alpha.”