“See? We know more than you,” Mathias sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re so very stupid, Olivia. And where is your precious Lazarus now? In your moment of need, he is nowhere to be found. You’re alone.”
The taunt stung, each word slicing through my resolve like a dagger. Despair clawed its way up from the pit of my stomach, threatening to consume me whole. Salvatore’s sneer, a twisted mask of triumph, was the face of my failure.
“I’m the most powerful sorcerer in the world,” he declared, his voice heavy with finality. The air seemed to thrum with his dominance, pressing down on us with suffocating force. “Hand me the Blade of Shadows, Olivia. It’s your only chance for a merciful death.”
“No.” The word escaped me as a growl, raw and defiant. Resolve hardened within me like steel tempered in fire. “I will prove to you that I can make this work. I can do this.”
With fierce determination, I seized the sun and moon dagger, my grip steady despite the trembling of my heart. Without hesitation, I drew the blade across Roman’s palm, then over the children’s small hands, and finally across Malik’s. Crimson lines etched across our skin, our blood mingling in a single, vivid bond—a unity forged in desperation.
“Hold onto the blade,” I urged them, then repeated the scripture like a battle cry.
The blades began to hum, a low vibration that grew into a rustling sound, filling the night with a tangible sense of promise.
Unlike anything I had ever felt, a surge of power coursed through us. The blades ignited into a blaze of defiance, their light piercing the encroaching darkness. Heat radiated from their cores, illuminating our faces and casting stark shadows against the chaos surrounding us.
The world blurred, transforming into streaks of color and sound, a tempest cradling our existence. The scripture left my lips in a final crescendo, and then there was silence—a void that swallowed every echo of our defiance. The stillness pressed on my chest, heavy and unyielding.
With an explosive whoosh, reality snapped back like a taut string released. The air rushed into my lungs like I had been holding my breath for a lifetime. My eyes flew open at the sound of Luna’s cries, her small wails cutting through the residual haze of the spell.
Had I done it? Had I time traveled to the future?
I looked around, my vision slowly clearing to reveal a verdant sea of green. The familiar woods bordering my father’s home stretched out before me. The present—modern and overwhelming—hit me like a physical force. We stood out like misplaced echoes of another time, our Ottoman Empire attire with its heavy fabrics and intricate patterns stark against the simplicity of the modern world.
Rosie ran to Malik, clinging to his caftan as if he were her lifeline. Her wide eyes darted around, taking in the strangeness of our surroundings.
“Olivia!” Emily’s voice cut through my disorientation, sharp and clear like an anchor in the chaos. She emerged from the trees, her eyes wide with shock and relief. “Oh my goodness, Olivia is here!”
I handed Roman our baby, the weight of Luna transferring from my trembling arms to his steady ones.
“Emily!” My feet pounded against the ground as I sprinted toward her, my dagger bouncing in its sheath at my shoulder. My breath came in ragged gasps as I drew closer.
It was startling to see her in modern-day clothes—a cherry-red sundress that flowed with every graceful step, accentuating her curves. Her hair was intricately braided, framing her face like a crown, and she seemed to glow in the sunlight. There was an otherworldly beauty to her, as though she both belonged to this time and simultaneously transcended it.
“Oh, Emily,” I said, pulling her into a tight embrace. We rocked back and forth, the weight of time and separation melting away in those precious moments. When we finally withdrew, Emily’s eyes shone with unshed tears.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, trembling. “And by your look, you’ve been through hell.”
“You have no idea,” I replied, my voice breaking. “I have so much to tell you.”
Together, we raced toward my father’s house, the thud of our footsteps syncing with the frantic rhythm of my heart. A cold dread settled over me as the familiar structure came into view. The icy fingers of fear gripped me when I saw the scene unfolding at the doorway.
There, in the open entrance, stood my father, his face pale and ashen, a gun pressed to his temple. The hand holding the weapon was not unfamiliar—it belonged to my mother, Alina. Her eyes were cold, calculating, and filled with venom. Her finger hovered dangerously close to the trigger.
The memory of Tristan holding a gun to my father’s head surged forward, but now it was my mother—the woman who had given me life—poised to end his.
The metallic glint of the gun caught the sunlight streaming through the trees, casting ominous shadows on my father’s terrified face. He pleaded silently with her, his lips moving without sound, his eyes wide and imploring. My heart pounded like thunder in my chest, bile rising in my throat as I grappled with the horror of it.
“You stay the fuck right there,” Alina shouted, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. “You come any closer, and I’ll pull the trigger. I’ll kill your precious father, and then I’ll kill you.”
“Mom!” The word burst from my lips, sharp and acidic. I spat the title like it was poison. “Salvatore has corrupted your mind!”
“Don’t talk to me about Salvatore!” she sneered, her grip on the gun unwavering. Her eyes blazed with a fury that made my blood run cold. “Your father—this conniving, son-of-a-bitch man—was right under my nose with the scrolls. He played me for a fool! Acting like some helpless, depressed shell when all along, he knew exactly what he was keeping from me.”
“Mom, please,” I said. I was desperate to reach some shred of empathy within her, so she didn’t kill my father. “This isn’t who you are. Let me help you see that you don’t have to do this. Put the gun down, and we can work together to defeat Salvatore. I know some humanity is still inside you, buried deep within.”
She merely laughed a harsh and mocking sound that sent shivers down my spine. Her eyes were cold and unfeeling.
“I don’t need you and your idealistic talk of working together.” Her voice was the sound of winter through an empty hall. “Humanity? Ha! A meaningless concept to me.”
