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Careful, even as they coil around my injury and pop my shoulder back into place.

They lift me to my feet, hoisting me upright, as another figure steps out of the darkness.

The area around her shimmers with silvered light, illuminating her vibrant red hair and willowy silhouette. Her ears are arched, delicately pointed, and her smile… Her smile is incandescent.

“Hello, Gwyn,” she says, voice sweet as honey.

“Dagny?” I murmur.

“Oh, heavens no.” She places a hand against her heart. “I am Aislinn, one of the Sovereign Sisters.”

I blink, then blink again. “But you’re— Riven said⁠—”

“I’m sure what he told you is true. My sisters and I vanished long ago after we placed our heir, Rosemarie, on the throne as the First Queen of Faerie.” Her gaze turns reminiscent, wistful. “My sisters wandered far, far away in the hopes of exploring another world, and I… Well, I stayed behind to nurture this one. Alone.” She sighs. “Life has felt a bit off-balance without them, but I believe you will bring forth balance once more.”

“Me?” I ask. “Why me?”

“Because you are different from most.”

Different. Other.

My hand rises instinctively to my throat, and her face softens.

“Blessed, I mean,” she says. “By Death.”

“I’m not sure blessed is the word I’d use.”

Her chuckle is light, a tinkling of sound. “That is precisely why you are what the Fae Isles need.” She steps closer and whispers, “Claim it. Tether yourself to me, to the Viretree. To these lands. No longer a pawn. No longer a prisoner. Be what you were never allowed to be to your coven—a protector. Make a vow to protect the Fae Isles, to bring forth Faerie the Free once more, and the magic of the Viretree will be yours to draw from.”

The easiest choice is to accept her offer, to survive this and make it back to Riven whole.

But what if I want to do more than survive?

I thought giving Riven all of me—my truths, my fears, my heart—would bring peace. That I’d be able to settle into a quiet life with him as his wife, his queen. That I’d feel sure.

But here I am again.

Uncertain.

Standing at a crossroads and offered the chance to choose—to change, to become something new.

A choice born of my own will.

What if it reshapes me?

What if I say yes to Aislinn and lose the pieces of myself I only just learned to accept?

My softness. My strength.

What if this vow forces me to forsake Dagny? Death? And who I am at my core?

A witch longing to live.

Aching for direction.

But maybe… maybe what Aislinn is offering is an expansion.

Not forsaking, but choosing.