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She repeated it so many times, it sounded like a melody in her mind. Suddenly she felt something else. A strength. Right behind her. Supporting her back. She reached out her hands, and her fingers brushed against cool shadows.

“I give as I am,” she sang into the night, and the flames from the candles shot higher.

She felt a cool brush from the magic of the house connecting with hers, lifting her up until she stood tall. Like a million bubbles bursting, her Dark Magic came to life. She could see the black strands of it in her mind, sparkling with specks of different colors.

The magic from the estate guided her through it, one branch at a time.

Control.

The power of her signifier lit up the branches of her Dark Magic in her mind. She was in charge of her magic.

Next came her spirit signifier. Bageya, the spirit of vengeance, howled through her mind.

One after the other, just like she had acquired them, she reconnected with her signifiers. And one by one, she remembered how she got them. Just a glimpse of the moments when new ink marked her fingers. How power had rushed through her.

Pain. Sin. Internum.

Each beat like a drum in her mind.

Her Dark Magic was no longer an untamable beast. She was in charge. She was in control.

The power behind her let go. She didn’t want it to. Her fingers wrapped around the shadows, clinging to them, but they turned from their solid form, holding her hand, into vapor.

Don’t leave me, she thought, but the shadows disappeared.

She opened her eyes. Standing in the middle of the chalk circle, she looked at her right hand, where her Shadowflame danced slowly across her skin.

She called upon her Dark Magic, and it answered effortlessly. Shadows formed in her palm, waiting for her direction. She let them roam across her fingers and tried to regain more memories.

An image appeared in her mind. Dawson training her. She didn’t want it. She fought against this pull of her powers.

Another memory followed. She had controlled a relic of some kind. Inseeli demons crawled out of the earth, obeying her command.

With the next flash, she stood in the Primemage’s office. She’d made Corvin suffer. He begged for mercy, but she showed him none. It was her who had killed the Primemage? Was she evil? Had Dark Magic corrupted her?

Memories kept falling into place like a row of dominos—brick by brick, rebuilding what she had lost.

Fragments of memories appeared, and she held on to them. Her defeating Rakkley together with Dawson. And then he collapsed in her arms. His eyes were no longer inhumanly cold. They sparkled in different shades of blue.

“Mira.” His voice sounded like a prayer in her mind, and suddenly everything hit her like a wave. As if floodgates had been opened. It all rushed through her.

Every last memory. Every touch. Every kiss.

His incantation. Her scar.

Her brain throbbed with pain. But it all came back. More than the memories—she could feel it all again. Feel the way his kisses had ignited her soul. See his blue-gray eyes stare at her and only her. Feel the warmth of his skin against hers. The way her heart skipped a beat when he said her first name.

With every fiber of my being, every speck of my magic, I’m yours, Mira.

She felt him in her soul. In every breath she took.

Only the absence of you taught me the true meaning of loneliness.

His deep voice hummed in her veins.

I remember! She wanted to scream with joy. I remember you. I remember us.

But the feeling of euphoria came crashing down with the next memory.