Riven's Pov
I had thought the moment would feel lighter than this. My chest should've been unburdened, my lungs able to finally draw air without the weight of Selthra's shadow coiled around them. But as Sylas, Nyelle, and I walked together through the winding paths of the Cubi dominion, all I felt was heaviness. The demon realm stretched out behind us like an endless scar—one I would finally, finally leave behind. And if the fates had any mercy left for me, I would never come back.
I'd lost too much here. Too much blood, too much of myself. And if I hesitated, even for a second, I feared it would drag me under again.
I'd already spoken to Azrael, arranged what needed to be done. "If you want the head seat, take it," I told Sylas earlier that morning. "If you don't because of Nyelle, then you should still have the right to decide which family takes it next. I don't care who sits there anymore. That chain doesn't belong to me."
