Finding information about killing a Void Lord was predictably difficult considering most texts said it was impossible.
But on day thirteen, Rhys found something in a crumbling journal from 1650—written by a mystic named Meredith Ashbourne, Valerian's great-grandmother.
"The Void Lords feed on dark emotion but can be starved. Should one be bound to a mortal contract, the contract can be severed if both parties achieve true emotional resolution—forgiveness, acceptance, letting go. The Void Lord cannot feed on peace."
"There," Liam said, reading over his shoulder. "That's it. You have to forgive Pryce."
"Absolutely not."
"Not condone what he did. Not forget it. But forgive—as in, release the hold it has on you. Let go of the hate."
"He murdered Kai!"
"I know." Liam's voice was gentle. "But your hate is feeding the curse. Your justified anger is exactly what the Void Lord wants. It keeps the cycle going."
"So I'm supposed to just... what? Say 'it's okay you killed six people and violated me in my sleep'?"
"No. You're supposed to say: 'I see you're trapped too. I see you're not just a monster but a broken person used by something worse. And I choose not to let that darkness consume me.'"
Rhys wanted to argue. Wanted to scream that it wasn't fair, that he shouldn't have to be the bigger person, that Pryce deserved eternal punishment for what he'd done.
But he also knew: fair or not, this was the only way out.
"What about Pryce?" Rhys asked. "Does he have to forgive himself?"
"The text says both parties need resolution. So yes."
"He can't. He's incapable of truly facing what he did."
"Then we make him." Liam closed the journal. "We force him to confront every truth he's been avoiding for three centuries. We break through his delusions and make him see—really see—what he's become."
"That might destroy him completely."
"Better than three more centuries of this."
They spent the next two days preparing. Researching every truth Pryce had avoided: the evidence of Elara's innocence, testimony from servants about the King's scheme, even Cassian's original legal briefs proving the setup.
On day fifteen, fifteen days left, they summoned Pryce to the library.
He appeared warily. "What is this?"
"An intervention," Liam said. "Sit down."
"I don't take orders from—"
"Sit down," Rhys said quietly. "Please."
Something in his tone made Pryce obey.
Liam spread documents across the table. "This is the evidence Cassian tried to show you three hundred years ago. The proof Elara was innocent. You're going to read every word."
"I don't need to—"
"Yes, you do." Rhys pushed the papers closer. "Because we found a way to break the contract with the Void Lord. But it requires you to face the truth. All of it. No more delusions. No more rewriting history to make yourself the victim."
Pryce stared at the documents like they might burn him.
"If I read these..."
"You'll have to admit you destroyed an innocent girl for nothing," Liam finished. "You'll have to face that your father manipulated you, that you murdered me for trying to help her, that you spent three centuries punishing someone who never betrayed you."
"I can't." Pryce's voice was small. "If I admit that, then I'm just... a monster. Nothing more."
"You're already a monster," Rhys said. Not cruelly, just factually. "The question is: do you want to stay one? Or do you want to finally, finally let Elara rest? Let me rest? Let yourself rest?"
Pryce's hands shook as he reached for the first document.
It was testimony from a servant named Mary, dated three days before Elara's death:
"I witnessed His Majesty the King pay Marcus Thorne one hundred gold pieces to drug Miss Elara's wine and stage a scene of infidelity. The King said: 'My son needs to see what she truly is—a gold-digging whore. This will break his foolish infatuation.' I wanted to tell Prince Valerian, but I was afraid for my life."
Pryce read it three times. His form flickered.
Next was the apothecary's record: "Sold to King Edmund: one vial of sleeping draught, strength sufficient to render a person unconscious for six hours with no memory of events during."
Then Marcus Thorne's confession, written before he fled the kingdom: "I was paid to drug the girl and lie beside her. I never touched her. She was unconscious the whole time. The Prince was supposed to find us and believe she'd been unfaithful. I'm writing this because I can't live with what I helped destroy."
Pryce's hands were shaking violently now.
Finally, Cassian's legal brief: "The evidence overwhelmingly demonstrates Miss Elara Thorn's innocence. She was drugged against her will and staged in a compromising position by agents of the King. She has maintained her love for Prince Valerian throughout her imprisonment and begs only for a chance to prove her fidelity. I recommend immediate release and full investigation into His Majesty's misconduct."
The documents fell from Pryce's hands.
"She never..." His voice broke. "She never betrayed me."
"No," Rhys said gently.
"I tortured her. For three weeks. I—" Pryce looked at his hands like they were stained with blood. "Oh God. Oh God, what did I do?"
"You believed a lie," Liam said. "You let your father manipulate you. You let jealousy blind you to the truth. And then, instead of accepting responsibility, you cursed an innocent girl to eternal suffering."
"I loved her!"
"You owned her. There's a difference."
Pryce dissolved—not vanishing, but actually breaking down. His form flickered between solid and smoke, and sounds like sobs tore from him even though ghosts don't cry.
"I destroyed everything," he gasped. "The kingdom. Elara. Cassian. Luna. Myself. All of it because I couldn't trust her. Couldn't believe someone like her could actually love someone like me."
"Why couldn't you believe it?" Rhys asked.
"Because—" Pryce's voice was raw. "Because I didn't deserve it. I was a spoiled prince. Arrogant. Possessive. My father raised me to believe love meant ownership, that women were property to be controlled. And Elara was too good, too kind, too perfect. I kept waiting for her to see the real me and leave."
"So when your father showed you 'proof' she was using you..."
"It confirmed every fear I'd ever had. That I was unlovable. That her love was a lie. That everyone would eventually betray me." Pryce looked up at Rhys with devastated eyes. "So I hurt her first. Made sure she could never leave me by destroying her so completely she'd never want anyone else."
"But she did love you," Rhys said. "Right until the end. Even after everything you did. Elara loved Valerian."
"I know." The words were agony. "I know, and it makes it so much worse. Because I had everything I ever wanted, and I destroyed it with my own hands."
Silence fell.
Then Liam said quietly: "So what now? You've admitted the truth. You've faced what you did. Does that break the curse?"
Pryce shook his head. "Not just admission. The Void Lord requires both parties to achieve resolution. I have to..." He looked at Rhys. "I have to ask your forgiveness. And mean it. Not 'forgive me so we can be together.' But 'forgive me so you can be free.'"
"And I have to give it," Rhys finished.
"Can you?" Pryce's voice was desperate. "After everything I've done—to Elara, to your past lives, to Kai—can you actually forgive me?"
Rhys thought about it. Really thought.
About Kai's blood on the walls. About the violation in his sleep. About six lives cut short by this ghost's jealousy.
He should say no. Should refuse. Should let Pryce suffer as he'd made Rhys suffer.
But he also thought about Valerian at twenty-two, in love for the first time, trying to give up his crown for a flower girl. About the young man whose father poisoned his ability to trust. About three hundred years of being trapped in his worst moment, unable to move forward.
"I can't forgive everything," Rhys said slowly. "But I can forgive the broken boy who made a terrible mistake. I can let go of the hate. I can choose not to let your darkness consume me."
"That's not—"
"It's all I can offer." Rhys met his eyes. "You don't deserve full forgiveness. You don't deserve peace. But I deserve freedom from carrying this hate. So I'm choosing to release it. Not for you. For me."
Pryce stared at him. Then, slowly, he knelt.
"Rhys Castor," he said formally. "For the crimes I committed against Elara Thorn, and for the suffering I've inflicted upon your soul across seven lifetimes, I beg your forgiveness. Not because I deserve it. But because you deserve to be free of me."
The air in the library grew heavy.
"And Liam Blackwood," Pryce continued, turning to him. "For murdering Lord Cassian and condemning his soul to witness suffering he couldn't prevent across multiple lives, I ask your forgiveness as well."
Liam looked surprised. "I didn't know I was part of this."
"You are. The contract binds all three of us." Pryce's form was fading. "Say you forgive me. Both of you. Or this doesn't work."
Rhys and Liam exchanged glances.
"I forgive you," Rhys said. "I release you from the debt. You're free."
"I forgive you," Liam echoed. "May you finally find peace."
The library exploded with light.
A presence filled the room—vast, cold, hungry. The Void Lord, manifesting to witness its contract being dissolved.
YOU DARE STARVE ME? The voice was everywhere and nowhere. THIS SUFFERING WAS PROMISED. THIS OBSESSION WAS MINE TO FEED UPON.
"The contract is broken," Pryce said, standing to face the entity. "They forgave me. I accepted responsibility. You have no more hold on us."
THERE IS ALWAYS ANOTHER CLAUSE. The Void Lord's presence pressed down. ANOTHER WAY TO SUSTAIN THE CURSE.
"What clause?" Rhys demanded.
TRUE LOVE. The Void Lord's laugh was shattering. IF THE MORTAL CHOOSES THE GHOST WILLINGLY, WITH FULL KNOWLEDGE AND NO COERCION, THE BOND BECOMES ETERNAL. NOT AS CURSE, BUT AS CHOICE.
Rhys felt his stomach drop.
"No," he said. "No, I'm not—"
FIFTEEN DAYS REMAIN. ON THE FINAL DAY, THE MORTAL MUST CHOOSE: FREEDOM ALONE, OR ETERNITY WITH HIS GHOST. CHOOSE FREEDOM, AND BOTH SOULS FINALLY REST. CHOOSE THE GHOST...
"And we're bound forever," Pryce finished. "By choice, not curse."
EXACTLY. The Void Lord's presence began to fade. I WIN EITHER WAY. EITHER I FEED ON THE GHOST'S DESPAIR AT FINAL REJECTION, OR I FEED ON ETERNAL OBSESSIVE LOVE. THE SUFFERING CONTINUES.
The presence vanished.
Rhys, Liam, and Pryce stood in the aftermath, stunned.
"So we didn't break it," Liam said. "We just... changed the terms."
"Forgiveness wasn't enough," Pryce said quietly. "The Void Lord found a loophole."
"Of course it did." Rhys laughed bitterly. "Because nothing about this has ever been simple."
They all looked at each other, the weight of the new reality settling in.
Fifteen days.
Then Rhys had to choose: freedom and ending both their existences.
Or an eternity bound to the ghost who'd tormented him.
The curse wasn't broken.
It had just become a choice.