ELARA'S POV
Vincent's shadow form tears through bounty hunters like they're made of paper.
Black wings slash through the air. Red eyes burn with inhuman rage. Where his shadow magic touches, frost spreads and flesh turns gray—not dead exactly, but frozen in time, trapped between life and death.
"FALL BACK!" Isabella screams to her guards. "Get the girl and retreat!"
But nobody can move. We're all frozen—not by magic, but by pure terror.
This is what Vincent really is. Not the gentle man who held me while I cried. Not the guilt-ridden boy who watched my mother die.
A monster.
"Vincent, stop!" I scream from inside the enchanted net. "You're going to kill everyone!"
His red eyes find me through the chaos. For a moment, I see recognition. Then a bounty hunter makes the mistake of running toward me with a sword.
Vincent moves faster than sight. His shadow-clawed hand goes through the hunter's chest.
The man doesn't bleed. He just... stops. Frozen mid-scream, eyes wide, body turning to living stone.
"Nobody touches her," Vincent's distorted voice echoes. "NOBODY."
"Vincent, please!" My voice cracks. "This isn't you!"
"Maybe it is." His shadow wings spread wider, blocking out the moonlight. "Maybe this is who I've always been."
More bounty hunters charge him—stupid with greed or bravery. He destroys them without effort. The resistance fighters can only watch in horror as their enemy becomes their ally becomes their nightmare.
Isabella backs toward the broken wall, face pale. "The Queen didn't tell me he could do this."
"Your sister is full of surprises," Raven appears beside her, moving silent as smoke. Before Isabella can react, Raven's blade is at her throat. "Hello, traitor."
"Raven, wait!" I shout. "Don't kill her!"
"Why not?" Raven's masked face tilts. "She sold us all out."
"Because she's still my sister!" The words surprise me. "And we need answers!"
Vincent lands in front of me, shadow wings folding behind him. Up close, his transformation is even more terrifying. His skin looks like living darkness. His eyes burn red. But his hands are gentle as they tear apart the enchanted net.
"Are you hurt?" His voice is still wrong—layered with something dark and ancient.
"I'm fine." I scramble to my feet, trying not to flinch away from him. "Vincent, what are you?"
"We don't have time for this." He's already turning, scanning for more threats. "Can you walk?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then we run. Now."
Sir Copperfield cuts through the last few bounty hunters still stupid enough to fight. Marcus helps wounded resistance fighters to their feet. Kai does a quick headcount.
"We lost four," Kai reports grimly. "Six more are badly wounded."
Four dead. Because I fell for Isabella's trap.
The weight of that crushes me.
"We can't stay here," Vincent says, his shadow form finally receding. The darkness pulls back into his skin. His eyes fade from red to gray. When it's done, he looks human again—but I'll never unsee what he really is. "More hunters will come. More guards. We need to move."
"Where?" Marcus asks. "The tower's destroyed. Our safe houses are compromised. We've got wounded who can't fight and a pregnant queen who's the most wanted person in the kingdom."
Everyone looks at me. Again. Always me.
"There's one place the Queen's forces can't easily reach," Raven says slowly. She still has her blade at Isabella's throat. "The Memory Veil. It's dangerous, but it's hidden."
"The Veil is a death sentence for anyone who's not a memory mage," Kai argues.
"Then it's perfect," Raven counters. "They won't expect us there."
"How do we even get there?" I ask.
"Through me." Raven's mask seems to smile. "I can open a portal. But everyone who enters will be trapped until I open an exit. We'll be safe, but we'll also be prisoners of sorts."
"Trapped in a magical realm with a traitor." Vincent's voice is cold as he stares at Isabella. "Sounds great."
"Don't take her," Marcus says. "Leave her here for the Queen's forces. Let them think she's still loyal while she bleeds out."
"No." The word comes from my mouth before I think about it. "She comes with us."
"Elara—" Vincent starts.
"She's my sister!" I'm shouting now, emotions I can't control flooding through me. "She betrayed us and she deserves to die but she's my SISTER and I just found her and I can't—" My voice breaks. "I can't lose her again. Not yet."
Heat builds in my chest. My hands spark dangerously.
"Breathe," Sir Copperfield reminds me quietly. "Four counts."
I try. Inhale—one, two, three, four. But the fire won't obey this time. There's too much anger, too much fear, too much everything.
"We're taking her," I manage to say through gritted teeth. "And when we're somewhere safe, she's going to tell us everything. Every detail of the Queen's plans. Every weakness in the palace. Everything."
Isabella laughs bitterly. "You think I'll just talk?"
"You will." Raven's blade presses closer. "Because the Memory Veil has special properties. I can make you relive your worst memories on repeat until you beg to tell us everything. It's called the Memory Prison. Very effective."
Isabella's face goes white.
"Choose," I tell my sister coldly. "Tell us what we need to know willingly, or tell us while Raven breaks your mind. Either way, you're talking."
For the first time, I see fear in Isabella's eyes. Real fear.
"Fine," she whispers. "I'll tell you everything. Just... don't put me in the Memory Prison."
"Then move." Raven drags her toward the center of the ruined tower. "Everyone gather close. This is going to feel very strange."
We cluster together—resistance fighters, wounded rebels, one traitor sister, one mechanical knight, one shadow monster pretending to be human, one information broker with a mischievous smile that's finally faded, one masked memory mage, and me.
A pregnant girl pretending to be a queen, trying to hold together a group that should have died tonight.
Raven raises her hands. The air ripples like water. A tear opens in reality itself—a doorway to somewhere else that glows with soft purple light.
"Through the door," Raven commands. "Quickly."
The resistance fighters go first, carrying their wounded. Marcus helps them. Kai goes next, then Sir Copperfield, his mechanical body barely fitting through the gap.
Vincent takes my hand. I almost pull away, but his grip is firm.
"We'll talk about what you saw," he says quietly. "About what I am. But later. When we're safe."
"Are we ever going to be safe?"
He doesn't answer. Because we both know the truth.
We step through the portal together, dragging Isabella with us.
The Memory Veil swallows us whole.
I don't know how long we fall through purple light. Time feels wrong here—stretching and compressing like taffy.
When we finally hit solid ground, I'm on a glass floor that reflects infinite versions of myself. Above and below and all around, memories float like bubbles—glowing spheres containing frozen moments from countless lives.
"Welcome to the Veil," Raven says. "Don't touch the memory bubbles unless you want to live someone else's trauma."
The resistance fighters spread out, setting up a makeshift camp. There's no sky here, just endless purple twilight. No sun or moon or stars. Just memories floating forever.
It's the saddest place I've ever seen.
"Your Majesty." Sir Copperfield approaches. "While the others rest and tend wounds, perhaps we should use this time productively."
"Productively how?"
"Training." His mechanical voice is gentle but firm. "You've survived three attempts on your life in four days. Pure luck. Luck runs out. You need to learn to fight."
He's right. I've been useless in every attack—weak, unprepared, relying on others to save me.
"Okay," I say. "Teach me."
We find a clear space away from the camp. The glass floor is smooth and cold under my feet.
"First, your stance." Sir Copperfield demonstrates—feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, weight balanced. "A warrior must be rooted like a tree but ready to flow like water."
I copy him. It feels awkward.
"Again."
I adjust.
"Again."
This continues for what feels like hours. Every time I think I have it right, he corrects me. My legs start shaking. My back aches. Sweat drips down my face even though the Veil is cool.
"I can't do this," I finally gasp, collapsing.
"A true warrior rises every time she falls," Sir Copperfield says. There's no judgment in his voice, just fact.
"I'm not a warrior. I'm a scared girl who's in way over her head."
"Warriors are made, not born." He extends his copper hand to help me up. "The Phoenix Queen was once a scared girl too. Then she chose to become something more."
I take his hand and stand.
"Again," he says.
We practice until muscle memory starts to form. Stance. Block. Strike. Dodge. Basic movements that might save my life someday.
Vincent watches from a distance, sitting alone on the glass floor. He hasn't come near me since we entered the Veil. I don't blame him. I'm not ready to talk about the shadow monster that lives inside him.
"Break time," Sir Copperfield finally says. "Now we work on magic control."
He pulls candles from somewhere—small white ones that float in the air when he releases them.
"Your fire wants to destroy," Sir Copperfield explains. "But a true Phoenix can also create, preserve, protect. Light these candles without burning them to nothing."
It sounds simple. It's not.
I focus on the first candle. Fire leaps from my hands—way too strong. The candle explodes into ash.
"Again."
Second candle. Same result.
"Again."
Third candle. Fourth. Fifth. All destroyed.
"I can't do it!" Frustration makes my power flare brighter. "My magic only destroys!"
"Because you only feel destructive emotions." Sir Copperfield's glowing blue eyes meet mine. "You're angry about the betrayal. Afraid of the Queen. Guilty about the deaths tonight. All heavy, dark feelings that make fire burn hot and wild."
"So what am I supposed to do? Just stop feeling?"
"No. Feel different." He gestures to my stomach. "You're carrying new life. You love that child already, don't you?"
My hand moves to my belly. "Yes."
"Then use that. Love is a light emotion. It makes fire warm instead of burning. Protective instead of destructive."
I close my eyes and think about the tiny person growing inside me. The child who didn't ask to be part of this war. The baby who deserves a chance to live in a world without monsters and queens and endless violence.
I reach out to the next candle and let fire flow from my hands.
This time, it's different. The flame is softer, golden instead of orange. It touches the candle and lights it gently.
The candle burns steady and warm.
"Yes!" Sir Copperfield's voice holds pride. "That's it!"
I stare at the lit candle in wonder. I did it. I controlled my power.
For the first time in days, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I can do this.
"Take a break," Sir Copperfield says. "You've earned it."
I collapse on the glass floor, exhausted but satisfied. My body aches everywhere. But it's a good ache. The ache of becoming stronger.
"Sir Copperfield?" I ask. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"What happened to you? How did you become... this?"
His mechanical form is silent for a moment. Then he sits beside me, gears clicking softly.
"Two hundred years ago, I was human," he begins. "Flesh and blood. I was Captain of the Phoenix Guard—sworn to protect the royal family with my life."
"During the first coup attempt?"
"Yes. Your ancestor—King Marcus the Third—was betrayed by his own brother. The brother hired assassins. They struck during the night." Sir Copperfield's voice grows heavy. "I failed. I was too slow. The King died. The Queen died. Their children only survived because other guards got them out."
"That wasn't your fault."
"Duty doesn't care about fairness." His blue eyes glow brighter. "As punishment for my failure, a dark mage cursed me. She transformed me into this—a body of metal and magic that cannot die, cannot rest, cannot feel. I am trapped in this form until a Phoenix heir sits on the throne again. Only then will I be released."
Two hundred years. Two centuries trapped in a metal prison, unable to die, watching everyone you love turn to dust while you remain.
"That's horrible," I whisper.
"That is duty," he says simply. "And I deserve it."
"No one deserves that."
"Perhaps." He looks at me. "But here you are. The heir I've waited for. If you reclaim your throne, I can finally rest."
The weight of that responsibility nearly crushes me. "I'll find a way to free you. I promise."
"First, survive." There's warmth in his mechanical voice. "Then worry about keeping promises."
Before I can respond, Vincent finally approaches. He's been avoiding me for hours. Now he looks determined.
"Elara. We need to talk."
My heart speeds up. "About what?"
"About the night before the fire. About... us." He sits down on my other side, carefully not touching me. "About what happened at the tavern."
The memory is fuzzy in my mind. I remember sitting alone, drinking cider, feeling hopeless. And then... someone sat with me. Someone with gray eyes and a kind voice.
"The night before Cindergrace burned, I was tracking you," Vincent begins. "But I was tired. I stopped at a tavern for food. And there you were, sitting in a corner booth, crying into your drink."
Small pieces start clicking together.
"You looked so lost," Vincent continues quietly. "I couldn't just walk away. So I sat with you. We talked for hours. About loss. About feeling alone. About nightmares we couldn't explain."
"I remember talking to someone," I breathe. "But your face was blurry in my memory."
"Because we both had memory blocks. Yours from childhood trauma. Mine from things my mother made me do." Vincent's hands clench. "We recognized each other without knowing why. Two broken people who found comfort in a stranger."
"What happened?" But I think I know.
"We talked until the tavern closed. Then we walked. Then we..." He trails off. "Then we spent the night together. And the next morning, I left early to scout your village. When I came back, everything was burning."
The memory surfaces like breaking through ice.
The tavern. The stranger with kind eyes. Feeling less alone for the first time in months. Walking through dark streets, holding hands. A small room. Whispered words. Being held like I mattered.
"That was you," I whisper.
"That was me." Vincent won't look at me. "And I'm sorry. You were vulnerable and I should have been stronger. I should have—"
"Did you love me?"
The question stops him cold.
"That night?" he asks. "I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I just loved not being alone for a few hours." He finally meets my eyes. "But now? After everything?" His voice drops to almost nothing. "Yes. I love you. Even though I shouldn't. Even though you deserve better. Even though—"
A scream cuts through the air.
We all jump to our feet.
Isabella is on the ground, Raven standing over her. Memory bubbles swirl around them like a storm.
"What did you do?" I demand, running toward them.
"She tried to escape," Raven says calmly. "So I showed her a memory. Just one. Her own memory of the moment she decided to betray you."
Isabella is sobbing, clutching her head. "Stop! Please! I can't see it again!"
"Tell them," Raven commands. "Tell them why you did it."
"I can't!"
"TELL THEM."
Isabella's voice cracks. "Because the Queen has Lily! She has Marcus's sister! She's been torturing her for five years, and she promised if I brought Elara to her, she'd let Lily go!"
The world stops.
Marcus steps forward from the shadows. His usual smile is completely gone.
"What did you say?" His voice is deadly quiet.
Isabella looks up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Your sister is alive. The Queen has been using her as a hostage. Making her power magical weapons. She promised if I delivered Elara, Lily goes free."
Marcus's face goes through about seventeen emotions. Then he pulls his knife.
"Where?" he asks. "Where is my sister?"
"The palace dungeons. Level five. Cell thirteen."
"Has she been there the whole time? Five years?"
"Yes."
Marcus makes a sound like a wounded animal. Then he lunges.
Vincent catches him before he can reach Isabella. "Wait!"
"She's known where Lily is for FIVE YEARS and never told me!"
"Because the Queen threatened her!" I shout. Everyone freezes. "Don't you see? The Queen uses the people we love as weapons. She turned Isabella into a traitor by threatening someone else we love. She's doing the same thing to all of us!"
"Then what do we do?" Marcus's voice breaks. "My sister has been in a cell for five years. I can't just—"
"We save her," I say firmly. "We save everyone the Queen has taken. But first, we plan. We train. We prepare."
"While Lily suffers?"
"While we become strong enough to actually succeed." I look at each of them. "No more rushing in. No more falling for traps. We're going to hit the Queen where it hurts most. And when we do, we're taking everything from her."
Silence falls over the Memory Veil.
Then Kai speaks: "What's the plan, Your Majesty?"
I take a deep breath. "First, Isabella tells us everything about the palace defenses. Every secret passage. Every guard rotation. Every weakness." I look at my sister. "And in exchange, when we attack, Marcus gets to rescue Lily himself."
Isabella nods weakly. "I'll tell you everything."
"Second, we train. All of us. We become a real army, not a desperate group running from danger." I look at Sir Copperfield. "Can you train them?"
"It would be my honor."
"Third..." I pause, because this next part scares me most. "I recover the rest of my memories. All of them. I need to know everything about being a Phoenix, about my powers, about what I'm truly capable of."
"That could kill you," Raven warns.
"Then I die knowing who I really am." I touch my stomach. "But I don't think I will. I think I'm stronger than anyone realizes. Including me."
Vincent steps forward. "And what about the Queen?"
I meet his eyes—the eyes of the shadow monster who killed for me, the boy who watched my mother die, the man who loves me despite everything.
"When we're ready?" I say. "We burn her world down."
The group erupts in grim cheers.
But as they disperse to rest and plan, Raven pulls me aside.
"There's something you should know," she says quietly. "About your final memory recovery. About what you'll discover."
"What?"
"Your mother's dying words—the ones she told Vincent. They weren't just about saving you." Raven's mask catches the purple light. "She told him something else too. A prophecy. About you and him specifically."
My stomach drops. "What prophecy?"
"That the last Phoenix heir would either save the kingdom or burn it to ashes. And which one she becomes depends entirely on who she loves." Raven leans closer. "If you love the right person, your power will protect. If you love the wrong person, your power will destroy. Everything."
"And Vincent is..."
"The Queen's son. Born from the bloodline that destroyed yours. Transformed into a shadow creature by dark magic." Raven's voice is soft but certain. "He's either your salvation or your damnation, Elara. And your mother knew it. That's why her last words were 'Save the girl, but don't let her love you. If she does, the world burns.'"
I stagger backward. "No."
"Vincent has been trying to push you away this whole time. Hiding things. Keeping distance. Because he knows loving him dooms you both." Raven straightens. "But it's too late now, isn't it? You already love him. And he loves you. And the prophecy is already in motion."
I look across the Memory Veil to where Vincent stands alone, staring at nothing.
My husband. My enemy. My destroyer. My salvation.
The man I can't stop loving even though it might end the world.
"How long?" I whisper. "How long until the prophecy comes true?"
"When your child is born," Raven says. "The moment they take their first breath, your combined power will either heal the kingdom or burn it to nothing. Depending on whether your love is pure or poisoned."
Nine months. I have nine months to figure out if loving Vincent will save us or destroy everything.
Nine months until I become a mother and possibly the world's worst nightmare.
And I'm already three months along.