“Way to ruin the moment.”
“The moment can wait. My bladder can’t.”
I extract myself from the bed—it takes longer than it should, everyone reluctant to let go—and pad to the bathroom on bare feet.
When I close the door behind me, I let myself breathe.
Just for a second.
Then I splash water on my face and go back out to face the day.
The sanctuary grounds don’t look like a graveyard anymore.
A week ago, this courtyard was a battlefield. Bodies everywhere. Blood soaking into the stone. The silver veins pulsing with stolen Ether, spreading like infection through every crack.
Now—
Gardens. They’re back, finally. The magic that created them when I first came to the Sanctuary the first time are in full bloomagain. Feeders working side by side, hauling debris, repairing walls, stringing lights between the rebuilt columns. Children running between the adults, shrieking with laughter, completely unaware that a week ago this place was hell.
The veins are gone. Just… gone. When I pushed my power through, and then pulled all that Ether back into myself, they disappeared and didn’t come back. The stone where they used to pulse is smooth now. Clean.
New.
I’ve watched it transform all week. Between funerals, between rebuilding, between falling into bed exhausted and waking up surrounded by warmth. Every day the sanctuary looks a little more alive, a little more like what it was supposed to be. The Ether working in tandem with everyone.
Pride swells in my chest. And underneath it, an ache so sharp I have to press my hand to my sternum.
Riley won’t see this.
She spent five years ruling this place with fear and black Ether and my stolen face. Five years watching it crumble while she pretended to rebuild. Five years destroying the people who trusted her because Ethos had his hooks so deep she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.
And now it’s finally becoming something real—and she’s not here to see it.
I don’t know if she would have wanted to. I don’t know if she would have cared.
But I think, somewhere underneath all that armor, there was a version of Riley who wanted this. Who wanted peace instead of power, connection instead of control.
Ethos never let her find out.
“I want to do it myself.”
The guys exchange looks. The kind that says is she serious and should we stop her and she’s definitely serious, don’t even try.
“Bree.” Theo’s voice is gentle. “You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to.” I look at the closed door in front of me. The room where they’ve been keeping her body, preserved by Ether, waiting. “I want to.”
We’ve done this seventeen times this week. Stood in cold rooms with cold bodies, helped families prepare their dead for burning. Theo knows the prayers now. Rhett can light a pyre without flinching. Jace has stopped making inappropriate jokes—mostly.
But this one is different.
This one is mine.
More looks.
Thane steps forward. “We’ll be right outside.”
I nod.
