Fate versus choice. Mate versus love. Somewhere along the way, the lines blurred. Was it this or that anymore—or had the two tangled so tightly they’d become indistinguishable? Cassian was her mate, but was he her love too, her choice, or merely the male fate had forced upon her? And Eris... Eris was the outlier. A choice she was never meant to have. Love—or just desperate escape from the gods’ pre-determined series of her life?

But such questions vanish the moment steel is bared.

Death lingers in the shadowed treeline, shrouded but waiting behind the ring of watching faces.

Her heart beats in her throat, nails biting into her palms as Cassian glances back at her. For a breath she forgets the crowd, the clearing, the scent of fire already thick in the air, because his eyes are on her alone, as if she is both his beginning and his end. And when that look shatters, when he tugs his gaze away, his shoulders squaring and his siphons flare crimson, the ache in her chest nearly drops her to her knees. Azriel steadies her with a scarred hand, shadows curling protectively around her, the pressure of his palm a vow he doesn’t need to speak. He will protect her, sealing his vow with a nod to Cassian.

The air quivers, restless, and her gaze snags past Cassian to Eris. Fire coils up his blade in a ribbon of gold and scarlet, jaw set tight as his eyes find hers. Whatever tremor shows in her mouth, whatever storm drowns in her gaze, he sees it, and the flames writhe hotter in answer. Somewhere behind her, leaves crunch, and when she turns she glimpses Mor slipping into the trees, head shaking, despair written in every step. She cannot bear to watch, but cannot walk away either, her pain folding into the air just as surely as the smoke does.

Steel rings, sudden and sharp, a sound that cleaves through everything.

The world contracts to the clash at the center of the clearing—Cassian’s siphons blazing, Eris’s fire roaring, their blades locking so hard the ground shudders beneath them. Sparks shower the dirt, wings flare wide, sweat beads along Cassian’s temple, and still neither yields. Each strike is heavy enough to rattle the sky, each lunge charged with centuries of skill, and she feels every one like a blow to her ribs.

Blood spatters across Eris’s arm where Cassian’s steel breaks through, crimson soaking flame until the clearing reeks of copper and smoke. Eris only snarls, smile sharp as he drives forward again, forcing Cassian back toward the trees, fire blistering bark and cracking branches overhead. Cassian drops low, wings sweeping him through ash, and rises in the same breath, sword colliding with such force that Eris is shoved across the dirt, heels carving trenches into the earth.

She presses trembling fingers to her mouth, eyes stinging, chest burning, because the fight is no longer theirs alone—it is hers too, every ragged breath and broken strike tearing something inside her apart. And when Eris falters, his flame sputtering just for a heartbeat, her own sharp inhale betrays her. His gaze flickers to her, only for an instant, but Cassian sees. His fury ignites hotter.

Her tears blur the chaos as her gaze catches on Lucien’s across the circle. One eye gleams cold and mechanical, the other glassed with anguish, and he says nothing, but the weight of his silence is heavier than steel.

When this duel ends in blood, their fragile brotherhood could break once more, this time forever. And she knows it will be because of her.