Lena woke with the taste of blood in her mouth.
It was metallic, bitter, and sharp, as if her dreams had turned violent and left a trace behind. Her head throbbed with the weight of something ancient, like a forgotten memory clawing its way back through bone and time. The air in her bedroom was heavy. The scent of incense and ash curled in the corners, and the candles—candles she hadn't lit—flickered in deep, burnt orange hues.
Lucien was gone.
His side of the bed was cold, the sheets undisturbed. Her heart thudded with unease. He always stayed close—ever since the bond had deepened, ever since she had almost died from it.
But now, the room felt different. Off.
She stood on trembling legs and noticed one of the stone walls had… changed. It no longer looked like stone at all. It pulsed. A living wall, breathing slowly like a heart in sleep. Runes burned across its surface, glowing red, then black, then red again.
And at its center, a tear—a jagged slit in reality, like a scar forced open. A void.
She didn't remember opening a portal. She didn't remember summoning anything.
But something inside her—a thread older than this life—pulled her forward. Not Lena. Not entirely.
She stepped through.
There was no pain. Only silence.
And in that silence, a vast nothingness that stretched around her, above and below. Stars blinked in a sky that wasn't really sky. The ground beneath her feet was glassy and black, reflecting her image—except the reflection wasn't hers.
It was her face. But older. Fiercer. Crowned in obsidian flame and robed in ash.
And when the reflection smiled, Lena did not.
"You're remembering," the voice said—not from the reflection, but from all around.A whisper. Feminine. Ageless.
Lena stumbled back. "Who—?"
"You were death before you were love."
A shape moved in the distance—towering, shrouded in smoke. A goddess. No… not just a goddess. Something primordial. The Ash Queen.
"You burned a world for him once," the voice continued, gentle like a lullaby. "And you'll do it again."
"No," Lena whispered, trembling. "I'm not her."
The vision sharpened. The reflection stepped out from the mirrored floor, flesh and flame and shadow. She circled Lena like a predator made of memories. "Not yet. But you will be. It's already begun."
Lena's back hit the wall—if there even was a wall here. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
A pulse thundered through the air like a heartbeat.
"You were not meant to love him again," the Ash Queen hissed. "You were meant to destroy him."
The void cracked.
And from that crack came light. Blinding, gold-tinged, warm—and then cold. Lucien.
He stepped through the veil, eyes glowing, jaw clenched in fury. "Get away from her."
The reflection of Lena laughed—a sound made of bone and fire. "You're too late, god. You always are."
She vanished in a ripple of smoke. The void shattered.
And Lena collapsed into Lucien's arms.
He held her tightly, fingers trembling against her back. "I told you not to go near that kind of magic," he murmured, voice strained. "You're not ready."
"I didn't go," she whispered. "It came to me."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Then the awakening is beginning faster than I thought."
She looked up at him, tears on her lashes. "Who is she?"
His pause lasted too long.
"She's you," he said softly. "Or who you were. Before this life."
Lena's blood turned cold. "I was her?"
"You were the Ash Queen. And you didn't just rule a court." His voice dropped. "You burned empires."
The silence between them stretched like a sword.
"And what did I do to you?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Lucien looked at her with a grief too deep for words.
"You loved me," he said. "And then you killed me."