Page 13 of To The Final End

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Nothing.

I’m touching her—holding her—and there’snothing.

No pull. No leash. No price.

The contract is gone.

Ethos isgone.

The realization hits like freedom. For centuries, every touch cost me. Every moment of connection, every feeding, every time I let myself want something—Ethos took his cut. The consequences were always there, waiting, a leash I couldn’t see but always felt.

And now—

Nothing.

He’s gone. The consequences died with him. Nothing can punish me for touching her now.

The grief surprises me. Ethos wasn’t a monster to me—not only that, anyway. He was a constant. A master. The architecture my entire existence was built around.

And Bree destroyed him.

Saved me.

Almost died doing it.

I press my palm flat against her spine.

The pain hits me immediately.

Not a gentle siphon. Not the careful, regulated draw I’ve perfected. I rip myself open andtake—brutal, unshielded, pulling everything she’s carrying into myself with zero self-protection.

Her physical trauma floods in first. Bones that almost shattered. Muscles torn from channeling too much power. A body pushed past every limit it had.

Then the Ether strain. The impossible weight of absorbing magic that was never meant for one person to hold. The magic Ethos pulled from her for years while holding her captive.

Then the emotional overload. Fear. Grief. Determination. Love so fierce it burns.

I can feel Ethos’s fingerprints on her soul, darkness she’s been fighting since the first time he touched her mind.

It wrecks me.

My breathing stutters. My hands shake harder. My vision blurs at the edges, silver and black swimming together. I sink lower, my knees hitting the ground, but I don’t let go.

Ican’tlet go.

“Stellan—”

Someone’s voice. Wes, maybe. I don’t look up.

“He’s taking it.” Theo. Sharp. Alarmed. “He’s draining her pain into himself.”

“He’s going to tear himself apart.” Thane.

Hands reach for me. Someone grabs my shoulder.

I jerk away.

“Don’t.”

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