I catch something in the way he says it. Like there's more to that sentence. "Meant for who?"
His gray eyes find mine. "For you."
The mist pulses once around my ankles, and I swear the stones around us are listening. Waiting. The daisies pulse brighter in response, their light echoing the rhythm of my heartbeat.
I start walking again because standing still feels wrong. The path curves between walls that definitely weren't there before, leading deeper into the ruins. With each step, the glow under my feet gets brighter, tracing patterns that feel familiar even though I've never seen them before.
Symbols appear on the doorways we pass. Simple ones at first, then more complicated. Spirals and geometric shapes that hurt to follow withyour eyes. They should mean something. I feel like they should mean something.
And then we reach the big one.
It's massive—at least twice my height, carved from stone that gleams like polished silver. The frame is covered in symbols so intricate they seem to move when I'm not looking straight at them. The door itself is heavy wood banded with metal that looks like it hasn't been touched in years.
I walk toward it because that seems to be what I do now. Walk toward things that probably shouldn't be walked toward.
The moment I get close enough to touch it, the door shudders.
Not like someone pushed it. Like it just remembered what doors are supposed to do.
The wood groans—not with strain, but with recognition. The hinges protest for about half a second, then give up and let the door swing open. Smooth as anything.
Darkness beyond. But not empty darkness. Expectant darkness.
I take a step back, hands up like I'm surrendering. "I didn't touch it."
"No," Stellan says, and there's something almost like approval in his voice. "It opened for you."
I stare at the open doorway. At the darkness that doesn't feel threatening, just... waiting. Like a room waiting for someone it already knew.
The mist flows toward the threshold, drawn by whatever's in there.
I look back at the others. At Jace's wide eyes and Rhett's careful stillness. At Wes's quiet hunger and Theo's reverent expression. At Gray, who meets my gaze for just a second, unreadable. Quiet, like he's already felt something shift. And Thane, who looks like his entire understanding of the world just got rewritten.
Then I look at the waiting darkness.
And because I'm apparently the kind of person who walks through doors meant for someone else now, I do.
Chapter 25
Theo
I've seen this.
Not the room exactly, but this moment. Bree stepping forward into a silence that holds its breath. The Ether choosing. The way everything holds its breath before the world shifts on its axis.
But visions are supposed to warn you. Not fall into place like fate.
The sanctuary unfolds around us as we follow her through the threshold. I'm caught between two pulls—watching the architecture bloom to life around Bree's footsteps, and watching her face as she experiences it. Both steal my breath for different reasons.
The air is charged, thick with magic that clings to the walls like memory. The structure hums—not audibly, but something deeper. Like it knows it's being seen again after centuries of sleep.
Bree doesn't lead on purpose, but we follow her anyway. Like she's meant to be here. Like this place has been waiting for her specifically.
Rooms reveal themselves as she passes. Sigils carved into doorframes flicker to life when she's near, then fade to a gentle glow behind her. Furniture repositions itself without sound—a chair sliding into place, atable straightening, debris simply disappearing like it was never there. Light filters through arches that weren't there moments ago, casting everything in warm gold.
It's exactly as I've seen in dreams. Every detail, every turn of the corridor. But the fact that it's real scares me more than it should.
I steal glances at Bree as we walk. She's not afraid—there's wonder in her expression, quiet awe that makes something in my chest pull tight. The Ether flows around her ankles like a cat seeking attention, and she seems... settled. Like she's finally somewhere she belongs.
