The air in the safehouse felt colder when Amara opened her eyes.
She hadn't just seen Nereza. She'd touched something else — something deeper. Something that lived beneath memory.
And now she couldn't shake the image of him:Lucien, not as the man who'd died for her over and over — but as something older. Darker. Bound to forces he never told her about.
She stared across the room.He stood at the window, back turned, jaw tense.
"You knew," she said.
Lucien didn't respond.
"Tell me," she said.
His hands clenched. "I didn't think it mattered anymore."
"It does," she said. "Because I don't know who I'm fighting beside if I don't know who you were."
He turned then. His silver eyes met hers — and for the first time, they looked tired.
"I died once before the lifetimes you remember," he said quietly. "Before the Circle. Before the Flame-Bearers. When the world still thought magic was a punishment."
Amara didn't speak. She waited.
"I was a soldier," he said. "Nereza saved me on a battlefield no one remembers now. Said I was destined for more. She brought me back — but not as myself. She carved something out of me. Made me hers."
His voice dropped. "I served her for years. Erased threats. Carried out judgment. I was her blade."
"Until me," Amara whispered.
Lucien nodded. "You were light in a world I didn't realize was black. You made me remember what it felt like to choose."
"And that's why she's coming for us now," Amara said. "Because you broke her bond."
Lucien laughed bitterly. "No. Because I was her favorite. And she never lets go of what she claims."
Before Amara could respond, the candle flames in the room flickered.
A pulse of energy hit the floor — low, rhythmic, steady.
Then a voice. Male. Arrogant.
"Interesting. You're still alive."
They turned toward the doorway.
A figure stood there — tall, lean, wrapped in a long coat lined with black velvet and reinforced glyphs. His hair was silver, but not with age. His eyes burned red-gold.
Lucien's face darkened.
"Corthan," he said.
Amara stepped forward. "Who the hell are you?"
The man grinned. "Your replacement."
He walked into the room, entirely too at ease. "I was the next candidate for Nereza's favor. The moment Lucien broke rank, she began searching. And I? I didn't run."
Lucien stepped between them. "You're not welcome here."
"Oh, but I am," Corthan said. "Because the Spiral has turned again. And balance demands a new blade."
He turned his eyes to Amara, and something shifted in his face.
"I came to offer you a choice," he said.
"Not interested," she snapped.
"You should be," Corthan said. "Because the world doesn't fear you yet, Flame-Bearer. But it will. And when it does, they'll come begging for balance again. And when they do — Nereza won't hesitate to put me on that throne."
He paused, then added, almost softly:
"Lucien was her weapon. I'll be her king."
The air sparked between them.
Amara stepped forward. "You want a throne? Try taking it."
Corthan smiled. "Oh, I will. But not here. Not now. I'm just here to say hello — and to tell you: the Hollow Crown is watching. And she's not alone anymore."
He turned and vanished into flame.
Silence fell.
Lucien let out a breath like he'd been holding it for hours.
Amara didn't move.
"He's not wrong," she said finally. "The world doesn't fear me yet."
Lucien looked at her. "Should it?"
She turned her eyes to his.
"Yes," she said. "Because I'm not just breaking cycles anymore."
She reached for her blade.
"I'm building something new."