We exchange one last look.
“Lioran…thank you. You were exactly what I needed just now.”
He grins widely and nods, small but steady, and I return it before turning to my door.
The moment I step through, the world shifts again.
I’m in a vast stone maze, walls stretching endlessly upward. The sky overhead is dark and heavy, soft rain clings to my hair and lashes. Behind me, the door disappears.Because of course it does.
This is what I had expected the Labyrinth to be. Endless, bleak, and suffocating.
The sound of my boots echoes against wet stone as I turn corner after corner, stumbling into dead ends, backtracking, searching. Hours could pass here, and I’d never know.
I turn a corner and halt, stomach turning to ice.
Vampires.
Not just any vampires, but faces I know, faces burned into me. The ones who attacked that day. Leading them is the warlord—the one who struck the killing blow to Kallan.
My body doesn’t tremble. My knees don’t buckle. Idon’t cry.
Instead, rage pours through me, clouding my vision until there’s only red. My shadows unfurl hungrily around me and form daggers in each of my hands. I prefer a sword, but for this, speed will serve me better.
I’m not afraid. Not even a little.
A sharp smile tugs at my lips. Now this, I understand. Emotions destroy me, but battle steadies me.
I send my shadows lashing forward. They tear into the seven soldiers behind the warlord, devouring them whole until nothing but drifting ash remains. It’s over too quickly, and disappointment cuts through me.
I launch forward. Shadow meets steel as the warlord parries me, blow for blow, but my fury drives me harder. I’m not fighting the real vampire who stole half my soul that day, but the Labyrinth has given me his face. And that’s enough.
Every strike is fueled by twenty-eight years of grief and loss. I see Kallan’s face, terrified as he pushed me away to save me. I see him lying in his own blood. I see myself performing the Luminara, watching his body dissolve into stardust as my shadows wept beside me.
The warlord stumbles, and I can finish him. But I don’t. Not yet. I let the fight drag on, savoring every slash, every scream of my muscles. This is release. This is catharsis. Maybe this is the last thing I need to finally let him go.
When I feel the weight begin to lift, when the rage has bled into something lighter, I grin, wide and wild. And I release my shadows.
They surge with a vengeance, so violent even I flinch.The warlord doesn’t stand a chance. He bursts apart, ash scattered, and still my shadows devour even the dust until nothing is left. No trace thathe ever existed.
They swirl back to me, wrapping around me like dark arms, triumphant. Comforting.
I laugh, soft, shaky, but real.
I move forward. This time, the maze bends more easily, fewer dead ends blocking my path. Soon, the exit portal looms ahead.
I hesitate, not from fear, but because portals are always awful. They are sticky and cold and wrong. But I’m not allowed to vaelshad, so I step through.
Darkness greets me—the night sky above Syltheriel. My orb darts ahead, reappearing on my parents’ balcony where my mother stands. Her eyes, full of warmth, catch mine, and she gives the smallest nod.
“Serenya.”
I turn at the sound of my name. Torin sits on a bench, and beside him—
Koen.Unconscious.
I rush to him, knees dropping to the ground hard enough to bruise. I don’t ask questions, don’t even breathe. My fingers work frantically to open his jacket, tearing his shirt to expose his chest.
Torin silently helps me remove his jacket and shirt the rest of the way and roll him, exposing only bruises and a deep gash across his back—not nearly enough to explain why he isn’t waking.
