Page 87 of Shadowkissed

The circle ignites. And Ilet go.

I let the shadows rise first—soft and coiling, velvet-black tendrils whispering up from my spine. They flicker with edges and memory, cool and dangerous andmine.

Then I call the light.

Not the wildfire it used to be. Not a scream.

Now it rises like a sunrise—slow and golden andsteady.It pours from my chest like a tide.

And for the first time ever, Imergethem.

Star and shadow. Light and dark. Celestial and fae.

I become.

And when I open my eyes, the circle isn’t glowing.

I am.

Dante steps into the ring. No hesitation.

The fire of the ward licks at his boots, but it doesn’t stop him. Nothing does.

He walks straight through the magic like he was born to. And when he reaches me—his hands already glowing where my power brushes his skin—I reach up, grab his collar and Ikisshim.

Not just for comfort. Not just for heat. Forbonding.For claiming. For anchoring what’s left of my soul to something that still makes me human.

He kisses me back like the war can wait. Like I’m not glowing like a dying star in his arms. Like we’ve got a thousand lifetimes left to finish what we started.

When we break apart, he’s still glowing—faint, gold. Just where I touched him.

Some of me lives in him now. It’s always been there.

We turn together, hands linked, facing the army that waits outside the circle.

Wolves. Witches. Vampires. Fae. Warlocks. Beings bound by oath and fury and fear. Some of them will die for me.

Most of them don’t care.

They’ll die for thechanceto stop Seraphiel.

I raise my chin.

“We’re not waiting for him to strike,” I say, voice clear across the crowd. “We take this war tohim.”

Someone calls from the back, rough and tired: “And if we lose?”

I meet every gaze. No trembling. No lies.

“Then we burn it all down together as long as he burns with it.”

Because if I fall, Seraphiel falls with me and that’s the important part.

And the stars will know we went downfighting.

43

DANTE

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