There's no silence like the one after destruction.
The sky above the ruins of Velhar is cracked—split by the collision of two ancient forces. Pale flame and black lightning still pulse in the air like aftershocks of a god's heartbeat.
And at the center of it all
Me.
Ashen is half-buried in rubble, his eyes wide with awe and terror.
Thorne has drawn his sword again, but not to fight only to witness.
Even the air avoids me now.
Because I am not just power.
I am the consequence of it.
"What have you done?" Cael whispers, blood dripping down his wrist.
"The Veil is broken."
"Good," I say. "Let it bleed."
Because the Veil was always a lie.
A cage for Cataclysms. A spell cast by the gods to keep us from remembering what we were.
What we are.
But now I've broken it.
And the world is remembering, too.
Far in the north, dragons long thought extinct scream awake.
In the west, oceans boil.
In the east, children are born with fire in their veins.
And below the capital—
Something stirs.
Not Cael.
Not me.
The third.
The one who betrayed us both.
"You think this ends with us?" Cael growls.
"You've freed her."
My voice is low. Sure. Fire-wrapped silk.
"Let her come."
He reaches for me again this time, not in longing.
In fear.
"Seraphina listen"
"No," I say, flame curling around my lashes.
"You listen. I'm not Seraphina anymore."
"I am the Pale Flame.
I am the one magic bows to.
I don't need to be loved."
"I need to be feared."
And in the capital palace…
Seren stares into her mirror.
As shadows rise behind her, wearing a woman's form.
Eyes like venom.
Voice like a curse.
"She's awake," the shadow says.
"And soon… so will I."
"Welcome back," Seren whispers.
"Lady Ruin."