Page 60 of The Midnight Death Match

His words settle like anchors around my heart—heavy, steadying, terrifying. Tears blur my vision, and I shake my head. “I refuse to accept that.”

“It’s our legacy. I’ve already gone through this once with my own father.”

“You shouldn’t have had to once. That was too much for fate to ask of you. But twice?”

“It’s all our family knows.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” Fire burns inside me, and I far prefer that to heartache.

“I never said it did.”

The silence between us is even heavier now than before, and the weight of both men standing beside me tightens into something sharp and fragile inside my chest.

I press my hands to my knees, drawing a shaky breath. “We fight, but not each other. There may be no loophole, but we can find a way to break the curse.”

Harek’s voice follows, firm. “I’ll fight right alongside you.”

Einar nods. “Together.”

The words settle into the broken sanctuary like an ancient oath cast into stone. The curse may still hang over us, but if it takes us, we’ll go down in a blaze of glory.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

My mind keeps racing,and I don’t try to stop it. I have to find another way. One that doesn’t involve anyone dying. Just because we haven’t found it yet doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

It only means we haven’t looked in the right place. Courtsview might hold the answer somewhere else. That’s why I’m wandering around alone. It might call to me without the distraction of others.

The stone corridors echo differently when I walk them on my own. The rebel enclave buzzes faintly behind me—quiet voices planning, preparing. But I seem to drift farther from it with each passing moment. Not running but slipping.

The farther I pull away from Harek, from Einar, from all of them, the quieter the storm inside me feels. My thoughts still race, but with more precision. If I let myself believe in a future where we fight and win, it only sharpens the knife waiting to fall. Because for now the truth is clear—one must die.

No clever ritual, loophole, or shared power will save us. The blood that binds me to my father carries a single rule, and I can feel it pressing tighter with every sunrise. Better to make distance now, before fate finishes its work.

I step into one of the far alcoves, where thick ivy climbs over crumbled walls. The flicker of ward lights fades behind me, muffled by stone. Here, the weight of the ancient city settles like cold breath on my skin.

A predator watches, but not from outside—the wolf stirs beneath my ribs, pacing.

I clench my fists, grounding myself. It’s safer for them this way. For Harek, my siblings, and everyone who keeps telling me we’ll find a way forward.

They don’t see the trap tightening like I do.

I lower myself onto the edge of a broken stair, staring down at my hands as the moonlight slips between the fractured ceiling above. My palm glows faintly, but I feel no danger. Feel no fear. The city itself seems to activate both my sword and skin.

The same hands that may one day be forced to kill my father. The same hands that might soon have nothing left to hold at all.

I sit with my thoughts for a long while before returning to the main meeting place where the scholars spend most of their time.

Before I arrive, footsteps sound.

Harek appears from around a corner. He pauses just inside a broken archway, giving me space but never fully leaving. He takes a few slow steps closer.

I feel the warmth of him next to me now, steady and grounding, but it only makes the hollow inside me ache sharper.

“You don’t have to carry this alone. Let me help you.”

I glance over at him. “I need to do this on my own.”

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