Alistair POV
The ward didn't stop me.
I hit it at full speed
And passed straight through.
No resistance.
No lightning.
The air inside the Arcanum felt wrong.
Thin.
Torn.
Stone dust hung thick in the air like smoke after battle.
The wolves surged in behind us.
And then the hunters attacked.
They came from the shadows and the broken walls both, silver flashing, movements sharp and trained. One drove a blade toward my throat.
I caught his wrist.
Crushed it.
Bone splintered under my grip.
Cassian's magic tore through the chamber in a violent sweep, hurling two hunters across the floor. A wolf went down beside me with a snarl as a silver dart struck its flank.
This wasn't chaos.
This was calculated.
They had come prepared for all of us.
Steel clashed.
Magic cracked.
A wolf lunged, jaws locking around a hunter's shoulder, dragging him down in a spray of blood.
And then
The world split open.
Light detonated from the center of the room.
Blinding.
Violent.
Ancient.
Hunters were lifted off their feet like paper in a storm, bodies slamming into pillars, weapons snapping midair. The floor fractured outward in a spiderweb of white fire.
My heart stopped.
Sarafina.
She was at the center of it.
Not standing.
Not fighting.
Suspended.
Light poured from her skin, no, through her skin—as if something inside her had finally broken its cage.
Her scream didn't sound human.
It sounded celestial.
The wolves staggered back.
Cassian swore under his breath, shielding his face against the blast.
I didn't move.
I couldn't.
She wasn't losing control.
She was becoming something else.
The surge peaked—
And vanished.
She dropped.
I reached her before she hit the ground.
Her body convulsed in my arms, shaking violently, breath hitching in shallow, broken gasps. The mark on her palm burned bright, the star pulsing like a second heartbeat.
"Cassian!" I barked.
He was already there, hands glowing faintly as he pressed them near her temples without touching.
"Her magic is spiking and collapsing at the same time," he said tightly. "It's— it's like she's in two places."
Her fingers clawed at my shirt.
Her eyes were closed, but they moved rapidly beneath the lids.
She was seeing something.
"Fina," I said roughly. "Come back."
Her lips parted.
"Ash…" she whispered.
My chest tightened.
"Two skies…"
Her breathing stuttered.
"Don't let me—"
Her back arched violently.
The mark flared.
For one terrible second, I thought she was dying.
Then, stillness.
The chamber fell eerily quiet around us. The remaining hunters had either fled or fallen. Wolves circled warily, bleeding but standing. Stone cracked softly as dust settled from the ceiling.
Sarafina went limp in my arms.
No movement.
No sound.
"Cassian," I said, voice low and dangerous.
He swallowed. "She's alive."
Barely.
Her breathing steadied.
Slow.
Fragile.
Seconds dragged.
Then—
Her eyes snapped open.
Not confused.
Not weak.
Clear.
Focused.
And furious.
She stared straight up at the shattered ceiling.
And said,
"Shit."