I returned to the Obsidian Pit that afternoon fueled by the cold fury Isolde and Lorcan had stoked. Vesper was waiting, holding the Sunstone, but this time, the iron chain felt too slow, too gentle.
"I am increasing the flow rate today," I announced, walking past her to the center of the cracked marble. "I need to prove my capacity. He needs to know I can take the pain."
Vesper raised a skeptical silver brow. "Seraphina, precision is key, not brute force. You are using the Sunstone to filter, not to prove a political point to the King."
"It's the same thing," I countered, snatching the chain. "If I can handle the full surge, I prove my worth. If I can't, the decision is made. I'd rather know now."
I sat down and closed my eyes, seeking that perfect, destructive balance. I reached for the buzzing solar heat in my core, and simultaneously, I reached across the immense, dense castle for Lorcan's shadow, the cold and comforting anchor I now knew I desperately needed.
The balance point was becoming clearer. The Sun-Fire was a wildfire; the Shadow-Curse was a dense, impenetrable shield. I forced the fire into the shield, the pressure mounting in my lungs until I felt like my ribcage was a drum about to split.
Faster. Harder. Channel.
I channeled the fire down the chain, straight into the Sunstone. The stone didn't just pulse; it roared with light, radiating a golden energy that was too aggressive, too violent. It was pushing back against the containment.
Vesper shouted a warning. "You've overloaded the lens! Pull back, Seraphina!"
I tried. But the fire had reached the Sunstone and was being rejected, ricocheting back up the chain and into my body. It felt like being struck by lightning. The energy slammed into my solar plexus, instantly overpowering the subtle tether of Lorcan's distant shadow.
My control snapped.
The Sun-Fire didn't just burst; it exploded. It surged out of my skin in a blinding corona of white and gold, far more potent than the day before. The light boiled the air, and a high, keening sound of magical overload filled the chamber.
The obsidian walls screamed. The deep purple stabilizing runes, overloaded by the raw, untempered Solar energy, flickered wildly and then began to crack. I heard Vesper curse loudly, the sound muffled by the rush of energy.
I was burning. My vision was white, and I could feel my skin searing, but I couldn't stop the flow. The uncontrolled power was destroying me from the inside out.
And then, a terrifying, absolute cold slammed into my body.
It wasn't the distant, subtle anchor I had reached for before. This was a physical presence. Before my vision cleared, I felt two hands, glacial and powerful, clamp down hard on my shoulders.
Lorcan.
He was right behind me, his touch a devastating mixture of agony and relief. He hugged me to himself, his right arm wrapping around my chest. His shadow was an immediate, consuming force, a magical black hole that instantly began sucking the volatile fire out of my system.
The sheer power of the Shadow-Curse was horrifying. It was cold, deep despair, a void that devoured light and warmth.
But as the fire rushed into him, Lorcan's internal defenses must have failed, because the containment snapped, and the two volatile powers merged.
There was a catastrophic sound—a single, piercing note that was simultaneously deafening and silent. A blinding flash of purple-black light erupted where our magics met, flooding the chamber.
In that instant, I wasn't in the Pit anymore. I was inside Lorcan.
I didn't see a memory; I felt a core. I felt the endless loneliness of the Shadow-Curse, the agonizing slow drain of his life force, and the sheer, desperate terror that his reign was ending not in battle, but in decay. I felt the iron will that kept a dying kingdom standing, and the overwhelming, constant pressure to find a solution. There was no hatred for me there; only a chilling, absolute need.
And then, just as suddenly, I was thrown back.
I gasped, hitting the obsidian floor hard. The white light was gone. I was cold, trembling, and utterly drained. The runes on the walls were smoking, but they were stable, coated in a thick, dense layer of Lorcan's shadow.
Lorcan was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. He looked terrifyingly vulnerable. His hair was disheveled, his eyes tightly closed, and the shadows that usually clung to him were fractured and weak.
"Vesper, you are dismissed," Lorcan grated out, his voice raw.
Vesper, standing near the entrance, her expression shocked, nodded once and fled without a word.
Lorcan slowly pushed himself off the wall and walked toward me. His amber eyes were now open, and they were blazing with a cold, contained fury that was far more frightening than the fire.
"What were you trying to do?" he demanded, kneeling down beside me. His hands were shaking slightly.
"I was trying to prove I wasn't weak," I whispered, rubbing my throbbing head.
"You proved you are reckless and destructive," he hissed, his face inches from mine. "You felt that. That was the raw power of the curse. If you breach the containment again during the ritual, it will fuse us permanently, yes, but it will also kill you instantly. Your human core cannot withstand that density of shadow."
"And you?"
"It will take me an hour to recover from that breach," he admitted, his jaw tight. "Do not push yourself to impress me. Push yourself to survive. I will not always be near enough to intercept your stupidity."
He stood up, towering over me. The connection had been devastating, but it had left something behind. I could feel a faint, persistent coldness lingering on my skin where his hands had been. It was a subtle, constant echo of his shadow.
"You will rest for the remainder of the day," Lorcan decreed, his voice regaining its kingly command. "Tomorrow, you are needed for a different task. I need to make the wedding announcement official, and you will be presentable. And you will not lose control."
He turned to leave, but stopped at the entrance, turning his head just slightly. "You saw the need, Seraphina. You felt the price. Do not mistake my demand for selflessness, but do not mistake my sacrifice for cruelty."
I watched him go, feeling the ghostly chill on my shoulders, realizing that for a terrifying few seconds, we hadn't just touched, we had been magically, intensely one. I knew his desperation, and he, perhaps, now knew my defiance.