The sky wept with a fury that matched the storm inside Aerin’s chest. The raindrops lashed against her skin, cold and biting, mingling with the tears that refused to stop streaming down her face. She knelt in the mud, her hands trembling as they hovered over Mara’s still body. Life had slipped away too fast, a warmth stolen by cruel fate before Aerin could even grasp it.

  “Mara,” she whispered, voice cracked, breaking on every syllable. The name was a prayer, a plea, an apology wrapped in the weight of her failure. Her magic, once powerful and boundless, now felt like embers smothered under a thick, unrelenting shadow. The priestess’s last act had been mercilessly precise, sealing her power when she needed it most.

  Talon’s footsteps stumbled behind her, his breath ragged as if each one cost him a piece of his soul. He fell to his knees beside Aerin, his gaze fixed on Mara, unmoving, eyes wide and vacant with disbelief. His hand reached out, hesitant, trembling, as if he feared she would vanish if he touched her. But the moment his fingers brushed against the cool skin of her cheek, a sound escaped him—a low, guttural sob that seemed to shatter the air around them.

  “She’s gone,” Talon choked out, his voice splintering like glass. The rain hid nothing. His tears mixed with the mud, tracks of despair carved into a face that had only known how to guard, to fight, to push back the world. But now, all his strength meant nothing.

  “No!” Aerin’s scream rose, fierce and defiant, cutting through the downpour like a blade. Her hands pressed against Mara’s chest, a futile attempt to will life back into her, to summon her magic, to summon *anything*. The air crackled with her desperation, but it flickered and died in the grip of the priestess’s binding. All she could feel was the empty ache of failure echoing inside her, a cavern so deep it threatened to swallow her whole.

  Talon’s hands closed over hers, shaking. “Stop, Aerin. She’s... she’s gone.”

  “No, she can’t be.” Aerin’s eyes met his, wild and hollow. “I can bring her back. I *have* to bring her back.”

  But Talon shook his head, the weight of regret settling into his expression like stone. “You can’t. She gave everything—for you, for us. And I wasn’t there. I couldn’t save her.” His voice cracked, and he lowered his head, his forehead pressing against Mara’s, a silent goodbye, a torment etched into his very soul.

  Aerin’s vision blurred with fresh tears as she watched him. She had never seen Talon so vulnerable, so unmoored. His love for Mara had been quiet, hidden in stolen glances and the gentle way he would linger by her side. Now, with nothing left to hide, his grief poured out unchecked. It made the air suffocating, a shared, unbearable agony.

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  The rain pounded on, relentless, uncaring of their brokenness. Aerin’s fingers slipped from Mara’s chest, falling limp at her sides. The world narrowed to the rhythmic drum of the storm and the hollow silence that followed each sob. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on Mara’s lifeless shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric as if the touch alone could restore what had been lost.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, a chant of guilt and helplessness. “I’m so sorry.”

  But Mara’s silence was the cruelest answer. And for the first time in her life, Aerin felt powerless, not just in magic but in heart, soul, and breath. Beside her, Talon’s sobs quieted to a soundless ache, his hand still clutching Mara’s cold one as if he could feel the remnants of her heartbeat if he held on tight enough.

  The weight of their collective loss pressed down, unyielding, suffocating. The storm did not let up, nor did the sorrow, and they sat there in the rain, bound by grief that knew no end, in the shadow of a world that no longer felt whole.

  Amid the unforgiving storm, Aerin stumbled away from Mara’s lifeless body, each step dragging as if her grief had chains around her ankles. The downpour drowned out everything but the drumming of her heart and the echo of her shattered sobs. Mud splattered up her legs, the chill seeping through her skin as she fought to breathe, to think, to survive the hollow ache that threatened to break her.

  Then, through the haze of rain and tears, she saw him. Kael, leaning heavily against the jagged remains of a fallen stone pillar, blood staining his tunic and trickling down his arm. His face was pale, lips tight with pain, but his eyes—the same eyes that had seen her through childhood battles and shared secrets—were fixed on her.

  “Kael,” she choked out, her voice raw and strangled. The sight of him cracked open what little composure she had left. Without thinking, she dropped to her knees beside him, trembling fingers brushing the blood-soaked fabric at his side. The wound wasn’t fatal, but it told the story of a brutal fight, of survival scraped by a thread.

  “Aerin,” he whispered, a rasp of relief, laced with the sharp edge of worry. He reached for her, but his arm faltered, a wince contorting his features. Still, he fought against the pain, pushing himself to touch her.

  She broke under the weight of it. The sight of his shaking hand, reaching for her even now, even with his strength waning, shattered her. The sobs came fast and violent, wracking her body as she buried her face in her hands. “She’s gone, Kael. Mara’s gone. Talon’s… broken. And I—I can’t feel my magic. The priestess—she took it away. I can’t do anything.”

  Kael’s breath came in shallow, strained gasps, but he forced himself to close the distance. He pressed his palm to her wet cheek, the heat of his touch a stark contrast to the chill around them. His fingers were slick with rain and blood, trembling as they cupped her face. “Aerin,” he said, softer now, as if speaking to a wound that wouldn’t heal.

  Her tear-filled eyes met his, searching for answers he couldn’t give. But there was something steady in the depths of his gaze, a resilience that defied the storm raging around them. It was a look that spoke of countless battles fought and survived, of loyalty that didn’t waver, no matter how broken the world around them became.

  “I’m here,” he said, the words rough and raw. The rain hammered down, sliding over his face and mingling with the streaks of blood, but his eyes never left hers. “And I’m not leaving you.”

  Aerin’s body turned heavy in his arms. The weight of her crown, her responsibilities, her magic leaving her body over and over and over again took a tole on her.

  “No, no, no,” he murmured, his voice shaking. His hands hovered over her, unsure where to touch, how to help. “Aerin, stay with me. Look at me.”

  Her eyelids flickered open, just barely. “Kael…” she whispered, her voice faint.

  He grabbed her hand, holding it against his chest, where his heart pounded furiously. “Don’t you dare leave me,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve already lost you once. I can’t—” He choked on the words, leaning his forehead against hers. “I can’t lose you again.”

  Her fingers curled weakly around his, and it was enough to shatter him. “I’ll protect you,” he swore, his lips brushing her temple. “Always. No matter what it takes, no matter what it costs me.”