Chapter 171
Chapter 171
*Jiselle
تا
88%
Max’s body was still warm.
That was the part that broke me first.
Because it meant he hadn’t been gone long. Because some part of me–some foolish, aching, deluded part–thought that maybe if I held on tight enough, screamed loud enough, breathed hard enough, he’d come back.
But he didn’t.
The fire that had always burned too close to the surface in Maximus Laker was gone.
Extinguished.
I held him in my lap, arms cradling him like the way my mother used to hold me when I was a child crying over scraped knees and stormy nights. Only this–this was not a wound that time or balm or whispered comfort could ever fix. My sobs cracked the air open. Raw, ugly, guttural. I didn’t care who heard. I didn’t care that we were still surrounded by war. That danger still loomed behind the smoke.
Because grief didn’t care.
Grief screamed when it wanted to.
Grief collapsed the strongest of us.
I pressed my forehead to Max’s, ignoring the way his skin had already begun to cool. “You stupid, stubborn, beautiful bastard,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “You said you were going to walk me to the end. You said you’d stay behind me. Why didn’t you stay?”
A hand touched my shoulder.
Gentle.
Careful.
Nate.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. If I did, I’d shatter in a way I didn’t think I could come back from. So I just held Max tighter.
Behind me, I heard Bastain murmuring a ward. Ethan’s voice low and tight. Eva–gods, Eva was sobbing. Not like me. Hers was high–pitched. Breathless. A child’s grief in a grown woman’s body.
“No,” she kept repeating. “No, he’s not–he’s just winded. He’s just unconscious.
Bastain tried to move toward her, but she shoved him away, dropping to her knees on the blood–soaked stone beside us.
Her fingers trembled as they reached for Max’s sleeve. “Come on, get up. I didn’t see this. I would’ve seen it.”
Ethan’s voice broke for the first time. “Eva…”
“I would’ve seen it,” she snapped, turning wild–eyed to him. “I always see it!”
She didn’t say it, but the words hung in the air like poison:
Why didn’t I see him die?
I held Max tighter, tears streaming silently now. I had no more voice left. Only the hollow, echoing ache of a heart that had known too many ends.
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10:37 Sun, 22 Jun G
Chapter 171
And Nate-
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Nate knelt behind me, arms wrapping around my back. He didn’t speak. Didn’t try to make it better. He just let me fall against him, Max still in my arms. And when I shook–when the next sob tore out of me like flame–he held me tighter. Anchored me.
“I was so angry with him,” I whispered hoarsely. “I hated him for so long. I hated him for touching me, for hurting me. And I think–goddess, I think he died thinking that’s all fremembered.”
Nate pressed a kiss to my temple. “No,” he said. “He knew.”
“He died for me.”
“He chose you.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“I know.”
“I didn’t want this,” I whispered, fingers curling into Max’s torn tunic. “I didn’t want him to die a hero. I just wanted him to live. Just… live. Find his true mate. Be happy.”
Ethan crouched across from us, shoulders trembling. He looked as if someone had broken a part of him that would never be mended.
“He always talked about it,” he said quietly. “About wanting his death to mean something. I thought it was guilt. Maybe it was. But… I don’t think he
regretted it.”
“He didn’t,” Nate said.
I didn’t respond.
We all sat there for too long.
The war outside didn’t care. I could still hear it. Roars and steel, fire and shouts. The Gate screaming through the ley blurred beneath the weight of what we’d lost.
But in that moment, all of it
Eva was the first to stand.
But it wasn’t sudden.
It was slow.
Painful.
Her fingers scraped against the floor as she pushed herself upright like her body had forgotten how to move without him breathing beside her. Her knees buckled once–then again. She caught herself, knuckles bloodied from where she’d struck the ground, the memory of his name still stuck in her throat,
She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, dragging streaks of ash and tears across her cheeks like war paint made of sorrow. Her lip trembled. Her shoulders shook. But she didn’t cry again.
No.
The kind of grief that lived in Eva now didn’t make sound.
It simply swallowed everything else.
She took one step back.
Then another.
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10:37 Sun, 22 Jun
Chapter 171
Then turned.
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Her braid was half unraveled. Her coat torn. She looked like a girl who had wandered through the ruins of her own heart and couldn’t find the door out.
And she didn’t say a word.
Not to me. Not to Ethan. Not even to Max.
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Because denial only holds for so long.
And when it breaks–it breaks like bone.
Bastain moved to her side, but she didn’t look at him. She just walked toward the remaining tunnel, arms limp at her sides, like they didn’t know who to reach for anymore.
I leaned back against Nate, breath shallow, fingers still locked around Max’s ruined armor. His blood was drying now. So was mine. But neither of us felt
clean.
“We have to keep going,” I said, and my voice cracked around the edges. Hollow. A breath pulled from stone.
Nate didn’t answer right away.
I didn’t blame him.
“We can’t leave him here,” I added. The words tasted wrong. Final. “Not like this.”
“I’ll carry him,” Ethan said from across the rubble, his voice low and ragged.
But I shook my head.
“No.”
He blinked, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “We can’t leave him alone–”
“He’s not alone,” I said, softer this time. “He made this choice. We honor it. We leave him with his mark.”
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Bastain stepped forward and knelt beside Max’s body. His fingers dipped into a pouch and retrieved a shard of white chalk laced with ashroot–a relic of remembrance. He traced a perfect circle around Max, murmuring something in a tongue I didn’t understand.
Not a cage.
Not a grave.
A seal. A promise.
One of remembrance.
One of protection.
Something old and holy and final.
I leaned down. Smoothed Max’s blood–matted hair from his brow. His lashes were still golden, even now. Still soft. Still him.
Then I pressed a kiss to his forehead, shaking as I reached beneath my collar and pulled the pendant he’d once given me the one I never wore, but never threw away.
I placed it over his chest, above the heart that had once betrayed me, then protected me, then died for me.
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10:37 Sun, 22 Jun G
Chapter 171
Then turned.
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Her braid was half unraveled. Her coat torn. She looked like a girl who had wandered through the ruins of her own heart and couldn’t find the door out.
And she didn’t say a word.
Not to me. Not to Ethan. Not even to Max.
Because denial only holds for so long.
And when it breaks–it breaks like bone.
Bastain moved to her side, but she didn’t look at him. She just walked toward the remaining tunnel, arms limp at her sides, like they didn’t know who to reach for anymore.
I leaned back against Nate, breath shallow, fingers still locked around Max’s ruined armor. His blood was drying now. So was mine. But neither of us felt
clean.
“We have to keep going,” I said, and my voice cracked around the edges. Hollow. A breath pulled from stone.
Nate didn’t answer right away.
I didn’t blame him.
“We can’t leave him here,” I added. The words tasted wrong. Final. “Not like this.”
“I’ll carry him,” Ethan said from across the rubble, his voice low and ragged.
But I shook my head.
“No.”
He blinked, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “We can’t leave him alone-”
“He’s not alone,” I said, softer this time. “He made this choice. We honor it. We leave him with his mark.”
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Bastain stepped forward and knelt beside Max’s body. His fingers dipped into a pouch and retrieved a shard of white chalk laced with ashroot–a relic of remembrance. He traced a perfect circle around Max, murmuring something in a tongue I didn’t understand.
Not a cage.
Not a grave.
A seal. A promise.
One of remembrance.
One of protection.
Something old and holy and final.
I leaned down. Smoothed Max’s blood–matted hair from his brow. His lashes were still golden, even now. Still soft. Still him.
Then I pressed a kiss to his forehead, shaking as I reached beneath my collar and pulled the pendant he’d once given me—the one I never wore, but never threw away.
I placed it over his chest, above the heart that had once betrayed me, then protected me, then died for me.
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Chapter 171
“You were more than the worst thing you ever did,” I whispered, voice breaking. “You mattered.”
I closed his eyes with trembling fingers.
And stood.
It took everything.
My spine straightened like it belonged to someone else–like I was slipping into armor I hadn’t earned. But the moment my shoulders rose, the air
around me shifted.
Changed.
The world felt brittle and taut and brimming with something that didn’t belong to it.
The war outside hadn’t paused. I could still hear it–roars and screams, steel and claw. But it sounded distant now. Drowned beneath the pounding in my skull and the flame coiling beneath my skin.
Because all I could feel was fury.
And grief.
And flame.
My fingers curled. The fire lit across my skin in flickers at first, then fully. Like it was waiting for me. The rune on my back pulsed in time with my heart- slow, dangerous, final.
Nate rose beside me, his presence steady. I felt his hand ghost against mine, offering nothing but presence. Support. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
Because when I turned–when I faced the shattered courtyard where death waited with open arms-
I wasn’t just Jiselle anymore.
I was every version of the girl who had once bled under the stars.
Every ghost of the child who had knelt by Eden’s grave.
Every echo of the girl Max had marked.
Every flame the Gate had tried to twist into something lesser.
And I was done letting anyone define me but me.
I walked forward.
Through the smoke. Through the ash.
And with each step, the world bent.
Bent to me.
Not in submission.
In warning.
In recognition.
The fire grew around me. In me. Because the bond wasn’t just a tether anymore. It was a purpose.
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1930 Sun, 22
Chapter 171
And when I stepped onto the final stone overlooking the courtyard, I stopped.
Lifted my chin.
No plea.
No fear.
Just a promise.
“This ends tonight.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
