A little girl in a wheelchair sat beside him, tears flowing, but otherwise unmoving with blank eyes.
I stepped forward. “Thorne?” I whispered, my gut clenched.
I reached for him. My hand touched his shoulder. He exploded.
Fingers like iron clamped around my throat as he spun, face twisted in agony.
“Kill me!” he screamed.
His eyes were wild—red-rimmed, hollow. Not fully seeing me. Not fully there.
The mirrors shattered. All of them. A thousand cracks raced outward in a single breath.
In one shard, a rose disintegrated into ash, alone in the dark
My shadows surged on instinct—curling around us like a storm, like a shield, like a scream I couldn’t make.
And then—
I was falling again.
Down and out and away—
**
I gasped awake, breath catching like a sob in my throat.
My body jolted upright, the blankets tangled around my legs, skin damp with sweat.
Beside me, Slade didn’t stir. Leo shifted in his sleep, his brow pinching, but neither of them woke. I was grateful.
I pressed a hand to my chest, breathing hard.
“Are you okay, Elle?”
Phoenix’s voice was soft—barely more than a whisper—from across the room.
He looked up, eyes tired but alert. “Did I wake you?”
He sat at my desk, lit only by a flickering candle. A few open papers were scattered in front of him, along with a teapot still gently steaming. The sharp scent of peppermint drifted in the air.
I eased out of bed, careful not to wake the others, and stepped toward him.
“No,” I said quietly. “Just…”
“Dreams again?”
I hesitated—then nodded.
He grimaced. “I’m sorry this is so hard.”
“It’s not your fault,” I murmured, then glanced at his papers. “What are you working on?”
“I’m trying to figure out where our armies are. Shadowmere forces have been scattered for many years. I’m hoping to find a way to pull them back together, to get some kind of unified force out of this mess.”
“Where are you looking?” I stepped over and sat beside him. He offered me his tea and I took a sip.
A map of Caerthynis lay before him—our world, spread in ink and parchment.
