Page 45 of Too Dangerous To Die

Rhaegar stands in the broken archway, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face.

“Well,” he says, his voice cool and unreadable, “you didn’t die.”

I scowl. “You left me.”

“You wandered.”

“I wasdragged into a memory!”

He shrugs one massive shoulder. “And still managed to kill the thing I summoned.”

“Youwhat?”

“You needed a push.” His eyes narrow slightly. “You need more than instinct if you’re going to survive what’s coming.”

I push myself to my feet, breathing hard. “So that’s what I am now? A test subject?”

“No.” He steps closer. “You’re a weapon. You just haven’t decided what side you’re on.”

My magic flares again, this time unbidden. He sees it. Smells it. Feeds on it.

But he doesn’t move any closer.

He turns.

And without another word, walks away into the dark.

Leaving me behind, breathless, trembling, staring at his back.

And wondering which of us is the monster here.

20

RHAEGAR

She doesn’t follow.

Good.

I need distance.

Not from her, gods, never from her, but from what she just did. What she survived. What sheawakened. Watching Nora channel that wild, untamed storm inside her was like watching the birth of something dangerous and beautiful. It wasn’t just magic.

It was power.

And itwasn’tMedea’s.

It was hers.

I walk deeper into the ruins, deeper than I ever meant to go. These streets are carved from memory, each alleyway brimming with echoes of a time I’d buried. Of lives I’d taken. Of a past I never wanted to see again.

But the city remembers.

The deeper I explore, the more intact things become. Arches hold firm overhead. Doorways still bear the marks of occupancy—long abandoned but untouched by time. The air changes here. It thickens, hums, becomes alive with the weight of magic left behind.

Then I see it—carved into the stone wall of a half-collapsed sanctum.

A symbol.

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