The void pulsed with dark heat, stretching endlessly in all directions. Samantha's skin prickled as she stood, every muscle taut. Her body still throbbed from the last trial—the vines, the pain, the bleeding girl she now knew was a reflection of her worst fear: losing Nova to the darkness within.
But this—this was different.
Ahead, surrounded by a ring of fire that hovered above the star-speckled nothingness, stood a man she knew too well.
Callum.
Or at least, he looked like him.
His form was exact—the same broad shoulders, the tilt of his head, the silver streak in his dark hair. But his stance was too stiff. His eyes glowed with the same violet hue she adored… yet they held none of the warmth. No spark of recognition. No flicker of the soul she loved.
He was a mirage, stitched together by her trial.
A weapon shaped like the man she would never raise her hand against.
