But she’s not afraid.
And Bree is always afraid, just a little. It’s part of who she is—the careful way she moves through the world, the defensive curl to her shoulders, the way she checks over her shoulder for threats that might be following.
This woman has none of that.
This woman looks like she’s never been broken at all.
“Bree,” I say carefully, “what happened to you?”
She glances back at me, and for just a moment, something vulnerable flickers in her expression. Like she’s afraid I won’t like what I see.
But then it’s gone, replaced by that unfamiliar certainty.
“I became who I was always meant to be,” she says.
The mirror pulses with dark light, and I realize with growing horror that we might be too late to stop whatever’s happening.
But looking at her now—confident, transformed, finally unafraid—I can’t tell if we’ve lost her to something terrible, or if she’s right and she’s finally found who she was always meant to be.
Chapter 2
Jace
“And she is magnificent,” I say, clapping my hands together with a grin.
Look at her. Actually look. The way she holds herself—straight-backed, chin up, like she finally knows she belongs in her own skin. No hunched shoulders, no defensive curl, no checking over her shoulder for threats that might be following. She’s standing there like she owns the space instead of apologizing for taking it up.
This is what I’ve been waiting for. What we’ve all been waiting for.
While the others stand frozen in whatever horror-spiral they’re having, I step forward. Because that’s what you do when someone you love finally stops being afraid—you don’t question it, you celebrate it.
“Come on,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and guiding her away from the mirror. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She leans into me without hesitation, and something in my chest unclenches. This is what I’ve wanted for her since the day we met—to trust without flinching, to accept comfort without calculating the cost.
Though there’s something different about her scent. Sharper. Like ozone before a storm.
I push the thought aside as we head toward the chamber stairs. Behind us, the others follow in a silence so thick I could cut it with one of my blades.
“What the hell just happened back there?” I ask quietly as we climb.
“I’m not sure.” Her voice is steady, certain in a way that makes me want to grin. “Words just… came to me. I spoke them. But nothing really happened.”
“You’re still here,” I tell her, meaning it. “That’s all that matters.”
She smiles, and it reaches her eyes—something that looks like relief flooding her expression. Like she was afraid I might not accept this version of her, and I just proved her wrong.
We emerge from the chamber into the pre-dawn air, and I can feel the others’ tension radiating behind us like heat from a forge. Rhett’s practically vibrating with whatever internal fire he’s fighting. Theo keeps shooting glances at Bree like he’s trying to force a vision. Wes looks pale and distracted, probably fighting hunger. And Gray…
Gray’s silent in that way that means he’s cataloging every detail and finding them all wrong.
They just don’t see it yet. She’s stronger. This isgood.
“Maybe I just needed to finally stop being afraid,” she says, and there’s something almost teasing in her tone that makes my heart skip.
Bree never teased. Not like that. Not with that underlying confidence that suggests she knows exactly what effect her words have.
But maybe that’s just who she was always meant to be.
