She had powers—but she didn’t feel strong like Alice.
And she definitely wasn’t as confident when it came to using them.
She gritted her teeth and buried her insecurities. Now wasn’t the time.
Bálint’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, calm and sure, as if they weren’t skating along the edge of the universe.
“We’re running out of time,” he said. “We’ll jump. When I say.”
His certainty was a balm. She focused on that. On him.
“And then what?” she asked, because she had to say something to stop herself from falling apart.
He looked into her eyes, golden and fierce. “Then I shift and carry us to safety.”
He said it like a promise.
Like he believed it.
Relief flickered inside her—warm and unexpected. She didn’t want to admit the truth. That teleporting… might not be possible. Not here. Not now. Not with energy that felt like it was burning her from the inside out.
She didn’t want him to see that. To know that she felt helpless. Useless.
So she nodded.
“If you can,” she murmured, her voice barely above the roar of the portal.
“I will,” he said. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Her breath caught as emotion swelled inside her. She closed her eyes for the briefest second, willing his strength into her bones.
Then—
“There!” he shouted.
The portal thread ahead bloomed open, a brilliant flower of white mist, unfolding like it had been waiting for them.
Adaline’s fingers trembled against his chest.
She counted with him.
“Three… two… one?—”
The thread dropped away.
The world tilted.
And they fell.
Weightless.
An involuntary scream tore from her throat as the wind rushed past her. She held on—tried to hold on?—
But he slipped from her arms.
“Bálint!” she cried, reaching for him, but he was already out of reach—his figure spinning above her, wings erupting in a burst of gold and purple light.
Then the white mist rose.
