Jasper and Lacey led us up a long, winding path of cobblestone. We climbed slowly, Maddie and Slade supporting Phoenix, who still moved like something broken. Leo watched me from the corner of his eye, like he thought I might break apart and drift off on the wind.
If only it were that easy.
At the top of the marble steps stood a woman I’d never seen, but somehow recognized.
She was tall. Composed. Draped in black and gold like she'd stepped out of a painting. Her dark hair was braided into a circlet across her head, threaded with soft glints of opal. Her posture was perfect. Regal. But her eyes—
Her eyes looked like mine.
And they were filled with something like fear. Not fear of me. Fear of breaking whatever this moment was supposed to be.
We stopped.
Jasper and Lacey stepped forward and bowed low. She touched their arms—familiar, tender. Jasper leaned in, whispered something only she could hear.
No one else moved.
Maddie and my Shades stood around me like a shield. Silent. Watchful.
Then she stepped toward me—slowly, like I was made of glass, or a blade she might accidentally touch.
She stopped a few paces away.
Her gaze never left mine.
When she spoke, her voice was smooth. Measured. Like a line she’d practiced too many times and never quite got right.
“It’s you, Elira.” she said softly. “You’re here…”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her.
She swallowed once, carefully.
“My name is Syrena,” she said. “I am the Queen of Virell.”
A pause. A breath that trembled beneath the surface.
Then—quieter, more fragile:
“And I… I am your mother.”
Epilogue
Thorne
Pain brought me back.
Or maybe it was the silence.
It was cold here. Too cold. The kind of cold that crept into your bones and stayed there.
I tried to move. Chains didn’t stop me—something worse did. The air felt thick. Heavy. Like the room was pressing in from all sides.
I opened my eyes and saw myself.
Hundreds of reflections stared back. Not just mirrors—wrongmirrors. They didn’t show what was, but what might’ve been. What should have been. WhatI never let happen.
Me, holding Elira’s hand. Me killing Vasquez. Me turning my back.
