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Standing among the graves, I remember when I first arrived in Shadow Bluff. How, in my exhaustion, I looked through the fog and found Edwin there, another soul clawing his way out of a nightmare. Even then, part of me knew we belonged to the same story.

Marcus claims the role of the ghost and vanishes to find a hiding spot.

I remain at the mausoleum, surrounded by four enormous men who unintentionally form a wall around me. Safety feels solid here.

Our eyes are supposed to be closed, but I look up at Edwin and he grins back at me.

If Reese is right, if Seraph means real power, then I’m not just gaining a family.

I’m gaining an army.

That is, if we win.

When it’s time to search, we split away from the group. The brothers fan out across the cemetery like hunters. Edwin keeps close to me, of course. His hand finds mine and doesn’t let go.

Grass brushes my ankles as we weave between headstones and leaning crosses, reading names without meaning to. Dates. Families. ‘Beloved’ etched into stone no one visits anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” I ask softly, trying to keep the mood light.

He shrugs. “Because it’s not important. All I want is you.” He lifts my hand and kisses it. “And you’re already mine.”

Warmth flutters through me, but hope has disappointed me before.

We pass a row of older graves near the tree line. Branches sway and creak above us. Lightning bugs blink, looking for their own mates.

I try to find a way to bring up what Reese said, but my tongue feels heavy. I overthink every possible phrasing.

“What…” I start.

Edwin arches a brow. “What what?”

I take a breath.

“What am I going to do as Seraph?”

His gaze drops. For the first time all night, he can’t quite meet my eyes.

“I wanted to abolish the role so you wouldn’t feel its wrath the way my mother did. I needed you in order to win.”

My chest tightens. But then he stops walking and turns me to face him. His hands frame my shoulders, holding me still as if he needs me to understand every word.

“But now,” he says, eyes burning into mine, “I see how strong you are. You’re going to rule with me, Zaiya. You’re going to be my queen.”

My heart swells as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss simply because I need to feel him close. He sees a version of me I struggle to recognize. One that doesn’t hide or cower.

Laughter erupts somewhere to the right. Footsteps pound through the grass.

“Ghost in the graveyard!” Tristan yells.

We turn to watch him sprinting out from the edge of the cornfield, Marcus chasing after him with arms outstretched.

Over Edwin’s shoulder, I see movement near the church. The back door opens.

Evelyn steps out dressed in white, her skin impossibly pale in the growing darkness as if she’s made of moonlight.

“There’s Evelyn,” I say, my pulse quickening. “I want to talk to her.”

I glance at Edwin out of habit. The old reflex to ask for permission. Then I remember Reese’s words.