Page 134 of Song of the Heart Scale
He tilted his head and smiled. “No.”
I sighed in relief, my gaze riveted to his form as he turned to leave. My chest twisted. I didn’t know what I’d expected—a heartfelt father-son reunion? A lifetime of answers? No. That didn’t appear to be his way.
But just before he vanished into a flash of light, he turned back one last time.
“When the stars call again,” he said, “you will know.”
And then he was gone.
Malachar exhaled like he hadn’t breathed in hours.
Silence followed.
I turned to Cat to see that her eyes mirrored mine: dazed and determined, swimming with a thousand unanswered questions.
But we had survived, and for now, that was enough.
Before either of us could speak, the downpour came and thunder rolled across the land.
It was time.
26
CAT
The air in the chamber plunged into stillness, laden with the implications of what just happened. Azareth was gone. Thorne was dead. The war was over. And yet, there was no peace in my chest.
I stood by the arched window overlooking what was once a battlefield, now blanketed in the smoky remnants of war. After a few moments, I curled up in a plush chair and tucked my legs beneath me as I watched Damien with quiet understanding. Royal Prince Bai stood at the center of the room, his arms crossed behind his back and deep in thought.
“I want to leave,” Damien said finally, his voice low but resolute. “With Cat. To her world.”
I straightened just a fraction and held my breath.
His uncle turned to him, his face unreadable. “You mean... for good?”
Damien nodded. “But there's something I must do first.” He moved to a writing desk in the corner and scribbled a quick message. Sealing it, he stepped into the hallway and handed it to a guard. “Send this by raven immediately. It must reach the warlock Garrick.”
The soldier nodded and rushed off.
When Damien stepped back into the room, Royal Prince Bai and I were still where he'd left us, both of us watching him expectantly.
“I need to know Elaria is in good hands,” he said. “Someone who knows this land and its people. Someone the council will trust. Someone who doesn’t crave power, but who knows how to wield it.”
Royal Prince Bai frowned. “Damien... don’t say it.”
“It should beyou,” Damien said firmly.
His uncle shook his head. “No. I was never meant to rule. My place was in the shadows. As advisor. Protector.”
“You’ve led better than most kings ever have!” Damien shot back. “You’re fair. Objective. Strategic. The people respect you. So do the clans. And the council already listens to you.”
Royal Prince Bai was silent for several long moments, the tension mounting.
Then the door opened.
Prince Julian stepped in, his appearance surprising us all. He looked haggard, like he hadn't slept in days, but his voice was strong. “Uncle Bai should take the throne.”
We all turned to him, stunned.
