Elaina stood frozen.
The night air wrapped around her like cold silk, but it was nothing compared to the frost that seeped into her bones at the sight before her.
The woman standing across from her looked like someone carved from her own reflection—but twisted. Refined in pain. The same thick lashes, the same curve of lips... but the eyes?
The eyes were dead stars. And the scar down her cheek glinted like a medal from a war Elaina couldn't remember fighting.
Lucien was at her side in an instant, his body rigid, one arm half-raised in silent protection. His golden eyes flickered dangerously, already glowing with restrained magic.
"Who are you?" Elaina asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
The woman's smirk was slow and surgical. "I'm you, Elaina. The one they buried. The version who wasn't soft enough to keep around."
Her voice coiled like smoke through the trees—smooth, broken, laced with centuries of unshed tears and unspoken rage.
Lucien took a step forward, tone clipped. "You're not real. Just a shadow, a trick."
But she didn't even look at him. "Magic boy. Always so certain, aren't you?" Her gaze shifted to him then—cold and sharp as frostbite. "You think you've kept her safe? You've only kept her blind."
Elaina's breath caught.
Memories she couldn't place surfaced—fragments. A child screaming. Blood on stone. A voice whispering her name through fire. Her stomach twisted as her heart pounded against the cage of her chest.
"You're lying," she whispered, though even she didn't believe it.
The woman tilted her head, a mocking sympathy in her smile. "Sweetheart, you forgot. But I didn't. I remember everything."
Suddenly, she took a step forward.
Lucien's power burst around them like a golden flame, throwing shadows across the trees. The air vibrated with his fury.
But the woman moved through it, untouched.
"You and I are two sides of a coin, Elaina," she said softly. "But they let you live in the light. They tossed me into the fire and left me there to burn. Alone."
Kade, who had been watching in stunned silence, finally spoke. His voice, though low, carried sharpness. "So what, this is a creepy reunion of your personalities?"
The woman chuckled, but it was humorless. "Call it what you like. Just know this: Elaina is the key. The only one who can open the gates they sealed. The ones they died to keep shut."
"Unlock what?" Elaina asked, her voice shaking. "What are you talking about?"
But the woman didn't answer.
Instead, she leaned in close—too close—and whispered just for her:
"You'll remember… when it's too late."
Then she vanished. Not walked—vanished—like fog burned away by morning light. Gone, leaving behind the scent of burnt roses and old, bitter magic.
No one spoke.
Only the campfire crackled weakly, casting flickers of light on pale, shaken faces.
Lucien stepped back, his hands flexing. "Elaina…"
His voice broke.
But Elaina wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the trees. On the darkness where the woman had stood.
And that was when she felt it.
A shift. A presence.
Another rustle of leaves.
This one… different.
The shadows rippled like a curtain, and out stepped Valen.
He was dressed in black again—black leather jacket, dark jeans, boots that made no sound—but it wasn't his clothes that made the air tense.
It was his eyes.
Dark as obsidian, they glittered with secrets. With hunger. With something that wasn't quite human.
"Did I miss the family reunion?" he asked smoothly, his voice like dark wine—dangerous, intoxicating.
Lucien was on alert in an instant. He moved to block Elaina, but she stepped around him, drawn like a moth to flame.
"Valen," she said, heart lurching in her chest. "Why are you here?"
He tilted his head. "Because I needed to see you. Because she's back."
Lucien's voice was a snarl. "You should leave."
Valen didn't even blink. "I'm not here for you, mage boy."
His eyes settled back on Elaina, and when he spoke, it was quieter. "I'm here for her."
Elaina's lips parted, but no sound came.
Because Valen was looking at her like she was his entire world—and the weapon that could end it.
"What I want, Elaina," he said, stepping close, "is you."
There was no joke in his voice. No game.
Just a promise. A threat. A plea.
And suddenly, the space between them was charged with something electric—memories neither had spoken of, feelings she'd buried deep.
Lucien's jaw clenched. "You don't know what she's been through. She doesn't need you messing with her mind."
Valen turned to him, a bitter smile ghosting his lips. "No, Lucien. You don't know what she is. What she's capable of. What she's becoming."
He glanced into the forest, where the strange woman had vanished.
"That thing? That was just the first. More are coming. Shadows. Fragments. Pieces of her past… and mine. And you won't be able to protect her from any of it."
Elaina's voice cracked. "Why? What's happening to me?"
Valen met her eyes. "You're waking up."
And then, as swiftly as he came, he turned and disappeared into the forest. No sound. No trace.
Just silence.
And the unraveling truth.