Sofiel pulled back enough to meet my eyes again. “Let it go,” she said. “Lethimgo.” A beat. “And when you’re ready, letmego too.”
With a stuttered breath, I nodded, then slowly drew my hand back from the crown. The song faded into a throbbing beat, one that almost hurt to listen to. And within me, the darkness writhed as though trying to regain control of me. It dug in, all claws and teeth, tearing apart the light within me.
Sofiel gripped my hands. “I have you,” she murmured. “You can do this if that’s what you choose.”
I nodded again, then turned my focus to the throne and the crown that sat upon its seat.
It stared back at me, daring me to claim it.
No, I wouldn’t.
Instead, I reached inward and summoned everything that wasmine—not the darkness, nor the strength stolen from my father. Only my fire. My light. My shadows.
The darkness shrieked the moment I called my magic. Its razor-edged scream tore through my skull, and I cried out, one hand flying to my temple. Pain lanced behind my eyes, and I staggered back a step, away from the throne.
“You can do this,” Rathiel said, his hand pressed firmly against my back, supporting me. I glanced over to find him standing right next to me on the dais. I hadn’t heard him climb the stairs, but he stood so close, I could see the soot streaking his cheeks, the blood staining his skin.
Sofiel took my left hand and Rathiel took my right, their grips steady and warm as sunlight. Darkness and light working together to help me.
I nodded, gritted my teeth, then summoned my powers again. I released Rathiel and Sofiel just as my hellfire flickered to life in my hands. Then I reached deeper. Past the hellfire. Past the magical forest the darkness had claimed for its own. I reached for the light my mother had given me by birthright—the light that reminded me of what I was. A celestial.
For a breath, nothing happened. Then my power erupted like a sudden storm. White-hot fire surged within me, and I sent the flames scorching through every inch of me. The darkness howled and screamed, but my fire burned away every thread, including my newfound wings—I would mourn them later—until,finally, all that remained wasme. Emotions burst within me—love, sadness, grief, joy… All of which the darkness had robbed from me.
I felt likemeagain. Whole and pure.
But I wasn’t done yet.
As if the crown sensed what I meant to do, it tried to fade from existence. I seized it with my magic, anchoring it to the throne, refusing to let it escape.
Then I sent a stream of the hottest fire I’d ever conjured into them both. Screams echoed in my head, ones no one else could hear. But all around me, the fortress trembled. Dust sifted down from the high ceiling as the walls themselves trembled. Beside me, Rathiel spoke my name, his hand still pressed against the small of my back as though to offer whatever support he could.
Gritting my teeth, I took a step forward, held my hands out to the throne and crown, and unleashed all that I was. The air grew so hot, the stone beneath my feet warped. Its edges glowed red, then white, but still, it resisted. Only after a few sweat-inducing moments did the crown show the first signs of weakening.
I pushed harder. Power—mine and only mine—tore through the hall.
Distantly, I heard a scream and registered it as Eliza’s, but I couldn’t stop. Not until I destroyed all the darkness, including its vessels. For a moment, I thought it might be impossible, but finally—finally!—the throne began to collapse. The crown melted along with it, until nothing remained but a molten pool that hissed and spat like lava.
Only then did I ease up and pull my power back into me.
All that remained was a puddle of cooling glass and infernal metal, steam rising in ghostly ribbons toward the ceiling. The hum of power that had haunted me was gone. Silence reigned, clean and uncorrupted.
I lowered my hands, heaving for breath.
My mother swept forward and hugged me, her arms wrapping me in a loving embrace that brought me to tears.
“I am so proud of you,” she whispered in my ear. “You are stronger than me and your father combined. You made the choice he couldn’t.”
My throat tightened. I wanted to speak—thank her, tell her I understood—but words felt too small. I only nodded.
Her smile held both joy and sorrow. “You are my daughter,” she said. “You were always enough.”
Light gathered around her again, already pulling her away. I stepped forward, a desperate sound catching in my chest, but she lifted a gentle hand.
“Live,” she whispered. “Lead. And when you doubt, remember this: power is not what makes you strong.”
With that, she vanished and the light along with her. For a moment, I could only stare at the place where she’d stood, the silence ringing louder than any battle cry. But her warmth still lingered on my skin, reminding me shehadbeen here, and I hadn’t imagined it. I touched my cheek and smiled.
Both my parents were gone now—my father by my own hand, my mother reclaimed by the light—and I’d destroyed the power I’d fought so hard to claim as my own. But for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt whole in a way my powers had never given me. The realization that I was all that was left didn’t break me. It strengthened me. Because, as my mother said,I was enough.
