A bitter chuckle escaped me. “And that was probably the worst decision I ever made.”
I turned to the fire, watching the embers smolder like dying stars. “Because as I was leaving, something kept pulling at me. A voice, a force—something—urged me to turn back.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I resisted. For too long. And by the time I finally heeded the call… it was too late.”
I lifted my gaze to Olivia.
“Your home was already engulfed in flames. And you—” I exhaled shakily. “You were outside, screaming, cradling your dead husband.”
The air in the room thickened, charged with something unspoken, something neither of us dared to name.
Olivia’s breath hitched. Her voice was heavy with sorrow, trembling with the memory she had not fully grasped until now.
“I can almost remember it,” she whispered, her eyes distant, lost in the echoes of another life. “I was screeching. Thrashing against an unknown force. Desperate to protect my child.”
Her gaze locked onto mine, shimmering with grief. “I begged you to save her. I screamed at you to do whatever it took to keep her safe.”
I nodded. “I wanted to help you. I truly did.” My voice was heavy, laced with an agony I had carried for centuries. “But I hesitated. I stood there, thinking, wishing I had never come to your home at all. That my presence had only brought misery and destruction.”
I swallowed hard. “And then… your pleas broke me.”
I exhaled, my hands curling into fists as I relived the moment. “I raced through the flames, pushing past the smoke and heat. The Timehunters were already there. They had the baby.” My jaw tightened. “I didn’t think. I acted. I cut them down where they stood and tore the child from their grasp.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
The turret clock chimed, its lilting melody drifting through the heavy air.
At last, I spoke again.
“When I emerged from the house… you were dead, Olivia.”
I turned to her, watching as the words struck her like a blow. “You laybeside your husband, as you always have, as you always will—forever committed to him across time.”
My throat tightened, but I forced myself to continue. “Your other three children were close by.” A bitter smile touched my lips. “Even in death, your love for one another was undeniable.”
Olivia’s eyes shimmered with tears. Without hesitation, she clutched Roman’s hand as if anchoring herself to the present.
I looked away.
The rejection, the eternal reminder that I was an outsider—a mere witness to their love—still stung as deeply as it had that night.
“I raised your child,” I murmured. “I was miserable. Bereft. Hollow. But I protected her.”
I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “Seasons passed. And then, Alina came to me.”
My body tensed at the memory. I pushed to my feet, crossing to the fireplace, throwing another log into the flames with more force than necessary.
“She had given birth to a child,” I continued, my voice quieter now. “She had given birth to you, Olivia.”
I turned slightly, glancing at her over my shoulder. “But I didn’t yet know you were Isabelle incarnate.”
I braced my hands on my hips, staring into the fire as it consumed the fresh wood, crackling hungrily.
“Alina had come with more than news.” My voice darkened. “She told me she had found a way to destroy Balthazar. That she had brought me the Sun Dagger.”
I shook my head, a humorless chuckle escaping me. “But by then, I didn’t care. I had no interest in vengeance, no desire for war.”
I turned fully to face them, my expression unreadable. “I cared only for the child I had sworn to protect. That was my purpose now. That was all that mattered.”
