THIS IS IT.
The moment we’ve all been preparing for. What people have suffered for, bled for. Died for.
This is the end.
After today, there will be no question of what I stand for, and whom I stand against. We’re making it known loud and clear, splattering it on the wall in the blood of our enemies. This isn’t just a rescue mission—far from that. We’re standing against Stavros. Standing for humanity. For freedom.
That night, when Denny Nox took us to the Lost and Found, I gazed out over the crowd of Otherworldlings that were laughing and dancing together. Creating the very peace that so many have sacrificed their lives for. And I realized something. I’m not here to put the Dark back in their place, or punish them for their iniquities. I’m not even sure I’m here to bring both the Light and the Dark together. But what I do know, is that they deserve a choice. There shouldn’t be limitations on who they can love. They shouldn’t be expected to take on certain roles in society because of what their last name happens to be. The Light, the Dark, vampires, werewolves and supernaturals alike deserve freedom. And that is what I will fight for.
I won’t live my life in fear for one second longer. And I won’t allow my people—the Light, the Dark, humans and every being with even just a touch of magic in their veins—continue to live in the shadows.
This is the end.
The end of Stavros’s reign. The end of evil.
And even if it means the end for me, I know that I cannot be afraid. I will not be afraid. Faith is my sword and my shield. With them, nothing can defeat me.
I LOOK OUT the window of the jet, busying my mind with everything I’ve learned. Yesterday, Alexander worked with me for hours, helping me to tap into the power surging through my veins. Feeling a renewed sense of purpose and channeling what I had learned from Niko, I caught on quickly, and pressed everything I had into the lesson. He was impressed, as was Lars and Morgan who watched intently. And while I was proud of my progress, a sorrow tugged at my heart because Niko wasn’t there to share my victory. After our meeting, he had remained locked in his room, doing God knows what. Probably counting down the days until he could rid me from his life.
And could I blame him?
Yes, reversing Dorian’s spell would bring his brother back, but what would that mean for us? How can I show him that he wasn’t just a replacement?
“We’ll be there soon,” Alex says, coming to sit beside me and, thankfully, interrupting my thoughts. A rush of adrenaline spikes in my heart, sending tingles to my extremities. “Once we land in Crete, things will be in motion fairly quickly.”
Knowing that actually landing anywhere near the Dark kingdom was a suicide mission, we’ve chosen to stop on a different island. From there, we can manifest onto Skiathos, and since it isn’t a very long distance, Alex will carry Morgan. He’s taken a liking to her, caring for her like she is my sister. And she is. Morgan is my family, and from this point on, nothing but death will keep her out of my life.
I glance across the plane to find that I’m not the only one that admires Ms. Pierre. She and Lars are sitting side by side on the plush, navy blue couch, smiling at each other. He opens his hand to her, and a tiny sun appears, floating just centimeters from his palm. He closes it, extinguishing the light. When he reopens it, he presents her with a single red rose bloom. Lars offers it to her, and she happily accepts, looking up at the beautiful giant with wonder in her eyes.
“You worry about her,” Alex says quietly.
“I do.”
He nods. “Understandable. But I believe she will be in good hands. The Light Enchanter has taken an interest in her. I believe he is honorable and willing to protect her with his life.”
“I do too. But what if…what if this is too much for her? She isn’t like us. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
Alex grasps my knotted hands, covering them with his own. “Fear not, daughter. The Divine has been planning this moment for centuries. Morgan may not be as breakable as you think.” He gives me a wink, and I get a flash of that carefree man in the Polaroid picture, his large hands cradling my mother’s stomach. Cradling me. Emotion takes over and I free myself from his grasp, only to wrap my arms around him. He stiffens at first, taken off guard by my candor. But then I feel him holding me, squeezing me. A shudder rolls through his chest and I hear him gasp, his head pressed against the top of mine.
“I love you, my brave, sweet girl,” he whispers, his voice thick. “I always have. Knowing you were out there was the only thing that kept me alive all those years in hiding. Just the idea of meeting you was enough to keep me going.”
We embrace for what feels like hours, trying to make up for all the time lost, when Niko emerges from the cockpit. He shoots an icy glare at Alexander and me then turns to Morgan and Lars. Sorrow rests at the edge of his coldness.
“Prepare for landing,” he mutters before settling in the seat farthest from the rest of us, and strapping in. Alex looks at me expectantly, probably waiting for me to go to him. I resume gazing out the window, watching the clouds zip by as we descend into destiny.
Since we knew it wouldn’t be easy to infiltrate the castle, and obviously didn’t expect to stroll right through the doors, we prepare ourselves to hike from the southern side of the palace where the mountain’s rocks are the most jagged, warding off any intruders. Of course, the land is spelled for miles, so Lars must hold Morgan’s hand, a hardship that he was only too happy to bear. The two maintain constant contact as they battle the rough terrain, which brings me a little peace. While I may hold the gift of regeneration, Morgan does not. And having Lars by her side gives me comfort that she won’t fall and hurt herself, something that is a real possibility among the razor-sharp boulders.
“Won’t be much longer,” Alex announces from the front of the group two hours into our journey. We’re losing daylight and our physical energy is dwindling.
“Good,” I hear Niko mumble from the rear.
When we approach the secret cliff dwelling, we shed our gear so we’re able to slip through a fissure in the mountain that’s only a little more than a foot wide. Luckily, it’s only that narrow at the section closest to the castle wall.
“What’s this?” I ask, pointing to a symbol etched into the black, metallic stone.
“The symbol of the fallen children,” Lars answers behind me, his voice full of pride. “We have been here.”
I run my fingers over the grooved edges of carved rock, imagining the terrified souls that must have passed through these very walls in a quest for freedom. And the fact that Cyrus led my father to this tunnel makes me believe that he, too, is one of the fallen. It would make sense, considering the vampire’s unwavering support of his cousins and Stavros’s undeniable hatred for his nephew.
We reach a patch of smoothed rock that’s merely the size of a large doggy door. Alexander pushes with all his might until it begins to groan under the pressure of his immense strength. Once he’s able to get it to budge, it makes a screeching sound as it automatically slides to the side, revealing a hole that even I will have trouble getting through. I look back at Lars and he tips his head.
“Don’t worry about me. I have my ways,” he winks.
Alex passes through first, holding a flashlight, more for Morgan’s sake than anything else. The rest of us can see perfectly through the tiny, pitch-black space. I’m right behind him, shimmying on hands and knees. Bits of gravel dig into my palms, and I can’t even fathom what kind of rodents live down here. I push it out of my mind, refusing to freak out. We’ve got bigger fish to fry, and rats and spiders are the least of our problems.
We crawl for about fifty yards before we come to a large vent that Alex slips off easily, as if it is purposely left unscrewed. He turns to us, pressing a finger to his lips. From this point on, no one speaks. Anything that needs to be communicated will be passed telepathically.
There are signs of activity inside the duct—patterned knee prints disturbing inches of dust and debris. We shuffle through as silently as possible, cringing every time the galvanized metal screeches. By the time we reach a second vent, I’m not even breathing.
“This is it,” I hear Alex whisper in my head, his presence leaving behind the ghost of a shiver.
He pushes the vent and catches it before it clatters to the ground. As quietly as possible, we tumble out of the duct into more darkness. We’re in a storage room of some sort, the musty smells of old upholstery and cleaning supplies nearly suffocating us in the small, stuffy room. I know what comes next. Alex and Niko mapped every step for us, down to the inch. Outside this room is a long corridor of guard’s quarters, an area that is crawling with vampires. Alex hurriedly shoves fabric in our hands and we make quick work of slipping on the dark jackets before slipping on sunglasses and black caps. We obviously won’t be fooling anyone up close, but we’re hoping it’s enough to get us past the scrutiny of dozens of red eyes.
Niko takes the lead since he knows the palace grounds like the back of his hand, and with a deep breath, he opens the door. The hallway is bustling, which is both a gift and a curse for us. A gift because we’re able to filter into the crowd easily. A curse because now we’re in close proximity to murderous vamps that jump at Stavros’s command.
We weave through the melee as quickly as possible without drawing alarm. They can sense the presence of the Dark, which is not unusual, but luckily, they can’t smell Lars, due to his contact with Morgan. And thanks to my wonky pedigree, I go undetected.
Niko leads us to a deserted staircase that is mostly used by servants from the kitchen. Once we’re out of sight, we break into a run, taking the stairs two at a time until we reach another door. Niko reaches out to open but pauses with his hand on the doorknob. This is it. On the other side of this door, Death awaits us. And while we hope that we’ve somehow eluded our enemies, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve made it this far only to fall into a trap. We could be playing right into Stavros’s hand, walking into the lion’s den with raw steak wrapped around our necks. But this is our only shot—our only chance to set Dorian free.
Niko turns around and looks at me, his expression blank and guarded. I don’t miss the trembling of his hand as he opens the door.