Chapter 119

Zarek

The mountain wakes me.

Not gently.

Not gradually.

It jerks me awake with a violent tremor that cracks the obsidian floor beneath my throne. Heat explodes up the pillars, the magma river roaring as if something enormous has stirred beneath its surface.

I inhale once—

And feel it.

A shift.

A pull.

A snapping of a thread I have strangled for years.

My eyes burn molten gold as the truth hits: