Page 81 of Claimed By Stone
“I’dsavethem. But I won’t do it by losing her!”
A brutal punch caught my ribs. I barely felt it through the haze. I elbowed him in the stomach, enough to break his grip, and staggered back, panting.
“She is more than just a gift. She is thekey,Khuldruk,” I said, voice breaking. “And she’smine.”
He reached again, but I was already turning, my eyes locking on the object beside the window.
The base of her old statue stood like a silent witness, still scarred from time.
I wrapped my fingers around it, hoisting it high above my head.
“No! Thavros!”
Khuldruk’s shout echoed behind me. He rushed to tackle me, but it was too late.
With a roar that came from somewhere far deeper than my lungs—something ancient and soul-bound—I hurled the base down onto the center of the crystal embedded in the war table.
The sound was not just acrack. It was adetonation.
Light burst in a wave that snuffed out the torches, seared the air, and knocked everyone to their knees. The crystal split in a dozen jagged directions before itshattered, spraying magic like stardust across the war room.
I stood there, panting, every muscle locked, heart slamming inside my chest.
"Brother, what have you done?"
Please,I begged silently.Let it be enough.
Chapter 35
Seraphina
Iwasn’t drowning.
I had known that sensation before—sinking down into darkness, where sound couldn’t reach me and stone wrapped around my limbs like iron weights. But this was different.
This was quiet. Still. Like floating in a deep pool, lit from within by a soft golden glow.
I couldn’t move, not truly. I couldn’t speak. But I couldfeel. I wasn’t alone.
A thin, strong thread tethered me to something—no,someone. Warmth pulsed through it like a heartbeat. Thavros.
He was panicking. Searching. The way his soul clawed for mine made my own heart ache, even trapped as I was in this in-between.
I wasn’t gone. I wasn’t stone.
Not really.
Then, suddenly, there was heat. A bloom ofsomethingin my chest—like the stone had cracked open and golden sunlight was bleeding through.
I gasped—but not aloud. Not yet. Somewhere beyond this stillness, Iwantedto gasp.
Because with the warmth came a voice. Ancient and divine. It was as if Aphrodite herself were speaking.
Not loud. Not even truly words. But Iknewwhat it said.
Wake.
You are mine, as you are his.
