Elyssara’s words rip open old scars. Seren’s gut clenches at the way she was sheltered—made to believe she was nothing more than incapable and incompetent.A liability.But goodness doesn’t disappear when strength arrives. Because Seren is nothing if not emotionally astute.
She grips her own amulet, holding Elyssara in her mind so the message arrives.
Perhaps that was destined, too? Because you were also the one who took me into the world, El. Who trusted my intelligence to reshape the realms.
Seren lets the words find their way, hoping to soothe the part of Elyssara that aches.
The others don’t speak. They take a half-step back, allowing the sisters to have their moment, even if their words cannot be heard.
Elyssara’s eyes turn glassy, welling with tears she tries to hold back.I was your cage, Seren.
Seren can’t help it—her eyes well, too. She grips her amulet again, holding the Gateway steady with a single hand.
But you were also the one with the key to open it and told me to fly, El.
A sob rips from Elyssara.
But Seren won’t absolve her guilt. Not entirely.
She will rewrite her own story.
Seren can no longer fixate on everyone else. She must forge a path of her own.
“Go!” Seren urges. “Restore history to Dravara. We’ll write a new one.”
Elyssara’s breath rushes in and out in ragged pants. But she spins toward the Gateway, auburn braid snapping in the night air.
She blows out a sharp exhale, rolling her shoulders, her neck.
“A new Dravara,” she breathes, and steps through the Gateway.
It snaps closed behind her, as if it never was.
Seren stares into the final Gateway.
Her Gateway.
It unfolds slowly, like breath drawn by an ancient lung. The air around it thickens, darkening into shadow threaded with silver, and Seren feels the unmistakable weight of attention settle over her—as if something old has opened its eyes. It smells of a fresh storm and seawater. It smells of no place she’s been before. This is not Aevryn. Not Nymeris. Not Caeloria. This is someplaceother.
And Seren smiles.
She angles her head to Teddy, and his hand finds hers, tracing idle circles across her palm.
He softens his gaze, but nothing can hide the pain buried beneath it. Like letting her go ruins a part of him he’ll never say out loud. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Seri.”
But Seren only stares at him. Lingers for a heartbeat. “I hope you findyourself, Teddy.”
She slips her hand from his, letting her thumb catch on his, and without breaking eye contact, she steps through the Gateway.
Across a threshold.
Home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The storm does not accept the mild
It carves its daughters from the wild
