Chapter 32 · Crown of Ash

"Get your hands off me, Lucian! You're bleeding through your damn sleeve!" Vesper didn't just grab his arm; she practically yanked him back from the edge of the smoking crater.

Lucian let out a sharp, jagged breath, his fingers still trembling. He looked down at the ruins of the cathedral. The High Inquisitor wasn't just dead—he had been erased. The holy sigils that once anchored the church to the earth were now nothing but blackened glass and ash, drifting upward like burnt snow.

"I'm fine," Lucian lied. His voice sounded like it had been dragged through gravel.

"Fine? You look like you just fought a god and lost half your skin," Vesper snapped. She stepped closer, her boots crunching on the debris. She didn't let go of his wrist. Her grip was tight, grounding him, and he could feel the heat of her palm through the shredded fabric of his coat. "Tell me we're done. Tell me that piece of shit is actually gone."

Lucian glanced up. The sky was a bruised purple, the air tasting of ozone and old blood. "The church is gone, Vesper.