Reva nodded.
Tears spilled down Gray’s face, and she bent down and pressed a kiss to Reva’s forehead, her shoulders shaking. I placed my hand on her back, wishing I had the power to take her pain, that I could carry it for eternity.
But I also knew that Iwouldn’ttake it, even if I’d had that magic. The pain itself was a blessing; it meant that she’d truly loved Reva, and from the depths of that ache, her love would continue to bloom, blossoming anew with every shared memory, every gentle reminder.
“Find Trinity,” Reva whispered. “End her.”
Gray kissed her once more, sealing the promise. Then, reluctantly, she released Reva’s hands and got to her feet.
Her pain fell away, leaving only a steely determination in its place.
“I need to find Trinity,” she said.
“I know, Little Witch.”
“Look after her,” she whispered. And then she was gone, blurring around the corner in the direction Darius had gone only moments before.
The instant we were alone, Reva’s brave mask evaporated, and she began to cry in earnest.
“I’m scared,” she said, her eyes wide and child-like.
“Me too,” I admitted. It wasn’t a lie. I was terrified—terrified to lose her. Terrified Gray would never survive the pain of this death. Terrified that I’d caused so much irreparable damage to the people I’d come to love—that I should’ve been able to find some way to prevent this tragedy.
Terrified that when we woke up tomorrow after all the dust had settled, we’d realize what fools we’d been—how hopeless our cause really was.
But in the end, my fear was no match for my faith, and as Reva took a deep, shuddering breath, steadying herself once again, I knew she would find her path in the Shadowrealm, despite the brokenness of the natural order.
Like Gray, this one was a fighter.
“Liam, I need to tell…” She coughed once, her body going still, even as the light shone bright in her eyes. “I know. I alreadyknow.”
In that single moment, she’d aged a lifetime, and I knew immediately what she was referring to.
“How?” I asked.
“Being Shadowborn… It explains so much. It just… Everything makes sense.”
I smiled, knowing she was holding back. “That’s all? You just did the math, sketched it out on a napkin, and figured it all out?”
Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Well I… I heard you talking to Gray about it.” A smile touched her lips, then faded, her gaze turning serious and ancient once again.
“Yes, Reva,” I said. “You are indeed Shadowborn.”
There was no point in denying it, though I wished now that I’d spoken with her about it sooner. Would it have changed this outcome? Given her some other advantage, some other path?
“Then you have to do it,” she said, her voice faint, but totally clear. Her body was no longer struggling, leaving her mind to focus on this last request. “You have to sac—”
“No.” I was resolute. Reva may have surprised me with this new direction, but my instinct to protect her was as sharp as ever.
She wanted to take on the Death mantle. To allow me to sacrifice her to that end, just as the Old One had instructed. A Shadowborn witch, they’d said. That was the only way to undo the chaos of my banishment. The curse.
“It’s the only way to fix this.” She blinked the snowflakes from her dark lashes, even as more continued to gather. Her eyes were bright blue in the night. Half-wild now.
“I’ve already accepted the terms of my punishment,” I said, “and I will deal with the consequences, however terrible they are. It’s not your burden to carry, little one.” I touched my hand to her cheek. “I can’t ask you to make such a sacrifice.”
“Hello?” She rolled her eyes, her playful spark undimmed. “I’m dying. It’s not much of a sacrifice.”
I shook my head. She was so, so wrong. Taking on the mantle of Death was a greater burden than she could ever imagine, a fate many would find worse than experiencing death itself.
