Page 129 of Shattered Jewel
They solved Sarah’s final riddle—the one that had stumped treasure hunters for generations and even Clover and the Vultures missed it—and breached the Heart’s final resting place.
Now, with the entire Heart in their possession, I’ve not only failed Elara and my brothers, but also betrayed the legacy of Sarah and Maverick’s sacrifice.
But as I watch the ruby become whole, I can’t bring myself to regret it.
Not entirely.
Because somewhere out there, Marianne might be alive.
My little sister, lost for so long, could be waiting for me.
She was not sacrificed. She didn’t die at their hands.
I swear I’d feel it if she did.
But would I remember it?
I can picture her face sometimes. I will recall more of her. I know it. I know it.
I’d sacrifice anything—my life, my soul—for the possibility of saving her. Even if it means damning myself in the process.
The ruby’s full splendor is in High Sovereign’s hands, a reminder of my choice, my betrayal, and my desperate hope. I only pray that when this is over, if we survive, the others will understand. That Elara will forgive me.
Because right now, watching our doom take shape, forgiveness feels as impossible as escaping these chains.
Footsteps sound behind me, though no one appears. The Silent Sovereign, I presume. His discreet presence fills the room with a stifling heat that competes against the rhythmic clashing of my chains and the steady hum of the fusion device.
Pain breaks my thoughts again—the Scourge’s blade, leaving trails of fire on my skin. I grit my teeth and taste iron in my mouth. The room tilts, and I fight the rush of sickness.
The Scourge’s knife slices into the tender flesh above my pulse, causing crimson rivulets to stream down my chest. I clench my jaw, trapping a scream behind my teeth as the knife digs under my skin near my collarbone, seeking to elicit a reaction.
Across the room, the High Sovereign lifts the now complete ruby with metal prongs, its facets catching the light like clotted blood. He turns, his movements precise and deliberate, and approaches me with the gem held aloft, chanting in a strange language.
Elara. Remember Elara. I didn’t fail her. My being here, my dying, saves her. It must. It must.
Our eyes collide in a silent duel, his black within the holes of his mask, mine naked, unflinching, even as the Scourge’s blade makes artwork out of my throat. If this is to be my end, I will face it with the little dignity I have left.
The Scourge leans close, his porcelain mask inches from my face. “Marianne screamed your name until her little throat was raw. I will make sure Elara Wraithwood does the same.”
The High Sovereign’s shadow stretches over me, the ruby held firm in his grasp. He lowers it slowly, until the cold stone rests against my chest, directly over my hammering heart.
And then the world explodes in a blaze of searing, blinding agony.
The ruby isn’t cold anymore.
“Why isn’t it staying?” I hear the Scourge Sovereign ask. “Is he not the one It wants?”
The High Sovereign grumbles as he pushes the ruby harder, my skin sizzling around its crucible sculpted facets. “While disappointing, there are three others we can try.”
But even as the fire consumes me, drowning out everything else, there’s another sound that cuts through—a feminine voice echoing from the door’s direction.
Elara charges into the room, her auburn hair a wild, fiery crown around her beautiful face. She looks every bit the avenging angel she’d always been to me. Our gazes intertwine like ivy as the molten ruby sinks deep enough into my flesh to touch bone.
But the pain is secondary now, drowned out by the searing fear and abject relief battling in her amber eyes.
Elara’s here, she’s found me, but the cost might be too great.
“Get away from him!”