But now…
Now, holding Zara, I felt that piece returning.
Piece by piece.
Light by light.
The empty corner inside me filled with something warm and golden and whole.
This child—this sweet, blinking baby girl who knew me in a way no one had since I’d been torn from myself—she was waking me up.
She was returning me to me.
And when her fingers brushed my cheek, soft as starlight, I wept.
Silently at first. Then harder. My shoulders shook with it. My breath came in ragged sobs that broke through my composure like cracks in old stone.
I held her like she was the only truth I’d ever known.
With my free hand, I reached for Thalia. She took it without question. Her grip was steady and strong, the way only a daughter’s could be. And with the three of us—maiden, mother, crone—linked in that sacred triangle, Fraysa’s veil flared to life around us.
Not soft this time.
Not subtle.
It roared with light, silver and gold, threaded with violet flame. It wrapped around our circle and sang,filling the room with the song of lineage, of memory, of divine rebirth.
The boys were silent.
Even Mallack looked shaken.
The goddess had come to witness.
To bless what had been lost.
To restore what had been broken.
And I—I let it happen. I didn’t resist it. I didn’t question the tears streaming down my face or the way my soul cried out in both grief and joy.
Because for the first time in my second life…
I was whole.
Myccael's office was filled with tension. Zavahr had asked for this meeting. Which meant he wanted something. And I already knew neither Myccael, Darryck, nor I would like it.
He stood near the center of the chamber, keeping a stiff posture, his eyes taking in the luxury of the room. The large fireplace, the wall entirely made of glass, allowing a view into the garden, where now and then some people could be seen enjoying the early morning.
Zavahr's robes looked too clean for someone claiming to dig in ancient dirt; then again, I might have been projecting, because he was a Zuten, and I wasn't too happy with them right now. He could have just cleaned up for the meeting with Susserayn Myccael. Admittedly, my mood was foul. I burned to leave this place and be alone with Daphne. I wanted to take her to Hoerst and renew our soul-binding vows.
Darryck leaned against a far column, arms crossed, one leg bent in casual indifference. But I saw the tension in his jaw. He was just as eager to leave as I was. Only he was eager to lead the war against the Eulachs and Renegades, whereas I wanted to go home and enjoy my mate in peace.
Myccael, standing to my right, hadn’t moved since we entered. His arms were behind his back. His jaw locked tight. Whatever patience he’d walked in with was already gone.
“I’m not asking for unlimited excavation rights,” Zavahr said. “I’m asking for controlled access. Another twenty meters down. There are preserved walls in that chamber. Filled with Zuten markings we’ve never seen before. They deserve to be studied.”
“They deserve to be buried again,” Myccael replied, voice cool but not quiet. “Before you wake something we can’t put back to sleep.”
“That’s our history,” Zavahr snapped. “We have a right to it.”
