Silence stretched between us, and the shadow blinked. One thick, forearm-length thorn retracted, revealing some of the foyer beyond.
Another question came like a crack of lightning.
What lie about herself does she believe?
So many. Too many that had been burned into her skin too long ago for me to soothe them.
“She believes she can’t survive me dying.” My eyes burned with tears I would not shed. I was here to save her, and I would not allow my own feelings to stand in the way. “She thinks if I die from the curse, she'll break. She thinks love makes her fragile. But I’ve seen the core of my wife. I’ve walked through her sorrow, and it’s forged in fire. She can survive anything. She already has.”
The lie she carried was so fundamental, so woven into how she saw herself, that she couldn't imagine existing without it. She thought love was weakness because caring had cost her everything before.
What weakness? My wildfire had faced down borgonswith nothing but steel and fury. She’d looked her father in the eye when he tried to steal her very essence. She’d loved a cursed man knowing it might destroy her.
The shadow-self tilted her head, and something shifted in those empty eyes. Recognition, maybe. Or surprise that someone had finally seen through the armor Reyla wore so well that even she believed it was her skin.
My chest burned with the need to prove it. To show this manifestation of her fears that every word was carved from absolute truth.
Another thorn hissed, curling away from the opening.
The shadow tilted her head, and the next question hit the hardest.
Why do you still love her, knowing her choices and doubts?
My breath rattled in my lungs.
What ifIwasn’t enough?
No, she loved me. I could only stand as strong as I was and let her judge me as worthy or not.
“Because she’s the better half of me,” I said with my whole heart. “The part that fights when I lose my strength. The flame I’ll follow into darkness without question. I love her knowing she’ll choose mercy over revenge. I love her because she could walk away from me, from this, but she doesn’t. She stays by my side with her teeth bared and the twin daggers I made for her in her hands. If she can stay despite the wreck of my world, despite the curse, I’ll stay too.”
This wasn't just about loving her despite her flaws. This was about loving her because of who she was in her entirety. The woman who chose mercy when vengeance would be easier. Who stayed when leaving would be safer.
My throat closed. Standing here, speaking these truths to a shadow-version of the woman who owned my soul, felt like I waslaying my heart on a sacrificial altar. But if this was what it took to reach her, to prove that my love wasn't conditional on her being perfect or unbroken, then let the shadow take every secret I'd ever kept.
The thorns shivered, and I could feel the magic in the air shifting. Testing. Deciding if the man in front of this threshold was worthy of the treasure locked inside.
The rest of the thorns retreated, and the crooked gate groaned open.
Shadow-Reyla blurred, wind slicing through her until she faded into nothing. Only her voice echoed behind her.
You may enter but be warned.
I girded myself, prepared to take on whatever I had to do next.
What waits inside is not a rescue, she said with no inflection in her voice.
That crushed me. This was my love, my wife, not some inanimate thing with no feelings or soul.
There's no saving her unless she’s willing to face herself, she said.
Then so be it. Nothing would stop me from entering, not even knowing I may never emerge from the other side.
With a jerk of a nod, I crossed the twisted arch. Warmth was ripped from my bones. The castle’s heart swallowed it, along with every whisper of hope I hadn’t yet buried.
This wasn't the true Evergorne, but one buried deep inside. There were no windows, no lights, no welcoming laughter. The walls breathed cold and wet and were alive with uncomfortable truths.
At the chamber's center, my wildfire had been bound to a stone wall. Chains wreathed her, glowing with pure light. Some were golden, some ink-dark, while others were bright red, blood-coated steel. Each link held a memory. Her father trying to drain the core of herself she cherished most. Kinart dying in her armswhile she blamed herself. My body lying on the cobblestones, bleeding out, and her unable to do anything to change my fate.
