“They’ve been waiting for you,” Torric says softly. His hand lands on my shoulder. Warm. Heavy. “Not the Gate.”
I couldn’t have done any of this without them. Not a single step. And now—
No.
No, I’m not thinking about that. Not yet.
“It is time.”
The God’s voice cuts through everything. He’s beside me suddenly, quiet and inevitable, watching my shadows with an expression I can’t read.
I know what he’s going to say. I know it in my bones, in the way my chest is already cracking open.
I ask anyway.
“Time for what?”
He holds my gaze. Ancient. Gentle. Sorry.
“For them to go home.”
“No.” The word rips out of me before he’s finished speaking. “No, not yet. I’m not ready.”
The shadows don’t move. A few of them lower their heads — patient, affectionate, waiting.
“They stayed for you,” the God says softly. “Protected you. Guided you to your Gate. But they cannot remain. Not now that their purpose is fulfilled.”
“Their purpose isn’t—” My voice cracks. “They’re myfamily.”
My voice breaks on the word. Finn’s hand tightens in mine.
“They always will be.” The God’s voice is impossibly gentle. “On the other side, memory does not fade. Service does not end. But here? They are trapped between worlds. Let them go home, Kaia.”
I’m shaking.
I can feel it — the tremor running through my whole body, my wings, the bonds in my chest.
“I can’t.” Tears burn my eyes. “I can’t just let them—”
Mouse moves.
He pads forward, massive and ancient, and presses his head against my palm. His fur is warm. Real. Solid in a way shadows shouldn’t be.
Little one.
His voice slides into my mind — rare, sacred, heavy with centuries.
Not all of us are leaving.
I freeze.
“What?”
The one you call Walter and I are guardians. Bound to the Valkyrie line itself, not to individual souls. We stay.
The relief hits so hard my knees almost buckle.
“You’re staying? You’re not—”
