She was done talking, but my jaw was still on the floor.

I didn't know she could do that!

That sounded like an insanely useful ability!

Of course, there had to be some sort of limitations. But still, soul transfer sounded ridiculously overpowered!

"That's great!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together. "Wait, let me get the others—"

"No."

I blinked and looked back at her. "What?"

"No," she repeated sternly. "I can only take one soul in my currently suppressed state. Even that will put an enormous strain on me. Any more is impossible. And we don't have bodies prepared for anyone else. That's why I sent them away. So there's no need to inform them. Now, I want you to relax, if you don't mind, and give me verbal consent to own your soul. Don't worry, I'll return it as soon as we—"

"No," I interrupted her this time.

Now as you might imagine, what followed was a very long stretch of baffled silence — baffled on her part, but very certain on mine.

"What… do you mean no, kid?" she finally asked, her golden eyes narrowing with the faintest hint of incredulity.

"I mean… no," I repeated, holding up my hands defensively. "On second thought, I don't want to leave this body behind. This is— look, this is my body. I like this one. I've had it since I was little. I like the arms, the chest, the face, and the you-know-what. I'm attached to all of it. Also, it's been a long time since we last talked, Aunt M. I don't know if we're at the stage where I can just hand my soul over to you. A soul sounds like a pretty important thing, you know?"

Aunt Morgan blinked slowly, clearly struggling to comprehend how idiotic I must have sounded to her. "What the hell are you talking about? This is no time for jokes, Sam."

I sighed gravely, realizing there was no use tiptoeing around the topic any longer. So I said it plainly. "Look. I can't. Okay? I can't leave. Not alone."

Her frown wasn't even a frown anymore. It was a full-blown scowl. "What!? Oh, dear, don't tell me you're still infatuated with that Shadow of yours. That Blade girl. Or wait… one of those Cadets was your ex, right? Is this about her? Because if it is, you can get better women, Sam. Now come on. Give me your consent—"

"No!"

Another long pause spanned between us.

I dragged both hands down my face and grunted, feeling gravel in my throat like I was about to admit something fatal.

"My friends— no, not friends! Those completely random people I was with…" I pointed in the direction they'd gone. Then I pointed ahead, toward where we were going. "I can't leave them behind. We're heading for the top of that caldera. And without me, our party won't survive crossing it. Some of them could very well die."

Aunt Morgan stared at me like I'd grown three heads. One of her eyebrows was raised so high in judgment that it nearly vanished into her hairline.

"Have you lost your mind?" she finally threw her hands wide. "Is there a beast here somewhere messing with your head? You're willing to risk your life for a bunch of inconsequential nobodies?! You're a Theosbane! Your life matters more than any of theirs!"

"They're not nobodies!" I snapped. "And one of them is a Zynx. Alexia von Zynx. Duke Zynx's daughter. What if he finds out, and that shrewd man will definitely find out, that we left his daughter stranded in a Death Zone? His political ties with the Western Monarch are growing. He could even use this as an excuse to—"

"Fuck that!" Aunt Morgan lost her patience and shrieked at last. "Fuck the Zynxs! Fuck the Monarchs, for all we care! Our priority is you! Your life! The Western Monarch, the Zynxs— we'll deal with all of them later if they blame us for saving our own instead of some strangers!"

…Damn. I had never heard her curse before.

And as touching as that was — which was not very — I still needed a way to turn her down.

I hadn't lied before when I said our party wouldn't survive without me.

The journey was almost over, but if I left them now, who knew which main character would end up dying… because someone definitely would.

I couldn't risk that.

But Aunt Morgan must've mistaken my resolve for hesitation, because she stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Family above all, Sam. Family above—"

…My blood boiled faster than my brain could catch up.

Long before she even had the chance to finish that sentence, I set off.

"No!" I stepped back, clenching fists so hard my knuckles turned white. "Don't you dare throw that ludicrous motto in my face right now! It's hollow! It's fatuous! It's stupid!"

Her eyes widened slightly, but only slightly, as if she'd expected my temper to flare but not quite to this extent.

I didn't care. "Family above all!? Family doesn't leave! But my own father all but abandoned me! Where was this sentiment when he stopped caring? When he destroyed my mental health because he couldn't handle a loss properly?!"

"Sam…" she tried gently. "He was grieving. You have no idea what he lost—"

"Oh, the fucking audacity!" I barked with no intention of backing down. "I was grieving too! I lost my mother too! But why am I explaining all this like you don't know anything? You were right there. You saw everything, didn't you? You saw it all from the sidelines! You and Uncle Thorax! Neither of you ever interfered, even when I cried and begged for scraps of his attention! Even when the clan elders sidelined me from the succession race! Even when the entire family ridiculed me!"

She shook her head, eyes heavy with tears not yet spilled, face contorted like she wanted to say something but didn't know what. "You think we didn't try? We did advocate for you, Sam. But you know Arthur. And your late awakening… your spiraling behavior—"

"Excuses!" I snarled. "Just excuses to avoid beating around the fact that you blamed me too! Like Father. Like everyone else. You all blamed me for Mom's death! Because if you hadn't, you would've reached out when I was breaking apart! I was just a child! Just a child, goddamn it! And because of you all, I started blaming myself! I rotted in my grief! I grew so bitter that I destroyed the one genuine connection I had through my childhood! You all were the cause of my so-called spiraling behaviour, not me! You all drove me to the edge, and then blamed me for jumping!"

I didn't realize when my voice started cracking, or when the tears began to fall. Nor did I realize I still had so much venom buried in my heart.

Aunt Morgan's hands trembled at her sides. Her golden eyes, same as mine if only a little softer, quivered for a second, and it looked like she might cry too.

But she didn't.

But she didn't. She composed herself, drawing a few deep breaths. "Okay. That's fair. You're angry."

"No, Aunt M. I'm well past angry," I nearly laughed at the word, regaining my own voice as a sharp edge of bitterness seeped through it. "Now I'm just what this family has always been to me — indifferent. You. Uncle Thorax. The clan elders. Father. My siblings. Every last one of you could go to hell, and I wouldn't even blink."

Her eyes flickered between guilt and hurt and something I couldn't place. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if unsure how to respond.

Then, after biting her lip hard, she exhaled and shook away from her posture entirely.

"I see," the warmth in her voice still hadn't left. "That's understandable. But regardless of how you feel, Sam… I can't let you continue. You'll die on this path. You don't understand what's sealed at the top of that caldera."

This time, I allowed myself to laugh. "Believe me, I'll be fine. But if you want, you can rip my soul out without my consent, Aunt M. See if I survive the torsion. If you're lucky, you might be able to salvage what's left and put it into a new body. If you're not… well. I don't think I need to explain the rest."

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