Happy holidays everyone! This chapter is my little present for the rest of you. I pray you will enjoy it. I've poured every emotion I had into it. Mostly the bad ones.

First things first: merry Christmas everyone and a happy New Year! I wish you all the best and pray / hope that 2023 will be a better year than the last one. That you may do what you want to do and enjoy life and all its beauty to the fullest.
To everyone in the USA who is reading this... Stay safe and warm.
To everyone in Ukraine, or those who fled from Ukraine... I can't put in words what I wish for you. For the war to end, for you to be save and free from the horrors you had to endure, for your loved ones to be equally safe, for you to be able to go home... And just so much more.
And I have no idea if anyone from Russia is reading this but if you are... My thoughts go out to you too. To the sons, fathers and brothers who are forced to fight in this useless war and to the daughters, mothers and sisters they left behind. To the unprepared soldiers who die fighting the war of a delusional tiny madman, with only some wikipedia pages about their issued gun and some impersonal letter from the Kremlin in their pocket.
There are no victors in war. Only victims.
And I know this might cause me some backlash and anger, but my heart goes out to both sides. Not to Russia's leaders, the ones who claim this war is justified. Never those. I hope they will die slow and painful deaths, and even that would be merciful for they deserve so much more.
But the people of Ukraine and the many Russian soldiers who are as eager to fight in this war as someone getting their teeth pulled... I pray for both sides that this war will soon be over.

Alright, onto happier things... So this is an important chapter. Lots will be revealed / hinted at. The next chapter will be even bigger. And I can't wait to hear your reactions.
*once again I apologize in advance for the not so tiny cliffhanger*
As you might notice, this chapter has a title. I'm currently editing previous chapters, changing them a bit - not a lot but just a little bit - rightened some wrongs. Mostly the latter, and made sure that the references to Bloom's past and struggles are a bit clearer, not quite so much brushed over. The ones I've edited now have chapter titles, which is here on FF not much yet. But keep an eye out and when you notice they have a title, you know I've edited it :D
Onto other news, I've recently created a Tumblr account. I'm not really active on it yet, but I'm planning on publishing some aesthetics for this story. So if you're curious about it, or just want to chat with me, be free to pay me a visit and send me a message :D I will leave my Tumblr at the end.
(I still have to figure out how to post this story on Tumblr as well, or at least link to it on my page)

Alright, that's the end of this long chapter note. Once again, happy holidays everyone and let me know what you think of this chapter (and if I made any mistakes so I can learn from them and correct them when necessary)

"Come along, pet."

I ducked my head, obediently walking behind my mother, fidgeting with the pendant around my neck. Something wasn't right. I wasn't sure what, but…

"Run," whispered a little voice inside my head. For some reason my lungs were constricting painfully, heaving for air that simply would not come. My legs burned with all the acid accumulating in the muscles, something I had come to associate with running. But I wasn't running, or had been running, and with the get-up my mother had forced me in, it was the last thing on my mind. "Run as hard as you can," continued the voice, sounding as breathless as I felt. "Get as far away from here as possible."

A sharp pain slapped over the hand grasping the pendant and I instantly dropped it, meeting my mother's icy gaze. "I told you to leave that hideous thing at home!"

Not even Icy had quite mastered glaring at someone with this much coldness while spitting fire at the same time.

I frowned. "Icy? Why am I thinking about a cartoon character…?"

"And what did I tell you about frowning?"

I ducked my head even more, cowering and biting down on my lip to keep it from wobbling. "Sorry, mother…"

"Oh, do speak up!" was her next order, sharper than a blade. If I would gaze up, I would find her thin lips decorated with her signature red lipstick pursed, the corners pulling down. And her eyes… Those ice-cold eyes that could case hypothermia with just one look… If anyone looked up "maliciousness" in a dictionary, my mother's gaze would be depicted. "No one likes a mumbling useless simpleton such as yourself. Either speak up or be quiet." If the world hadn't already been clouded in a thick haze, tears would have gathered in my eyes. Which my mother of course noticed. "If you so much as ruin your make-up…" She did not need to finish that threat. I knew damn well what she would do if I did not obey her. Being hunted by a horny troll and dragged over the ground by an invisible string would be a day out by comparison.

There was another odd thought…I wanted to frown but I managed to school my impression behind a mask of indifference before my mother noticed. What was up with all these weird thoughts?

"I do not want a peep out of you." My mother smoothed her hands over the stunning black dress she was wearing. It shimmered in the dim light, though not as much as the diamonds in her ears and around her neck and wrists. She was wearing a small fortune and wore it well. "You are to be as quiet as a mouse. In the unlikely event that someone will ask you to dance while I'm not at your side, you are to communicate only with smiles and nods. Am I clear?"

I swallowed, smoothing my hands over the raspberry pink dress she had forced me in. Another party, another disaster in the making, another pink dress. She had an obsession with them. She would not allow me to accompany her – like I had a say in the matter – anywhere if I did not wear a pink dress. I despised the colour. It clashed with my hair and made me look like a strip of bubble gum.

"—yes, mother—"

"I've got to get out of here." My legs shook, almost buckled underneath the sudden weight that flopped down on me. "She saw me…"

One look had been enough. One ice-cold piercing gaze and I had bolted like a deer catching the scent of a wolf. An appropriate comparison if there ever was one. I was the preferred prey. Her preferred prey. I could run and hide, but once she caught a whiff of blood, she would hunt me to the ends of the earth.

My fingers felt numb as I smoothed the short cocktail dress for the umpteenth time. They were shaking uncontrollably and their paleness should have worried me.

For some reason it didn't.

"—what use is running if I can't escape her—" Despite the order and the threat, my fingers reached up for the familiar and reassuring heaviness lying the hollow of my throat. I clung to it like it was my lifeline in a sea set on drowning me. I closed my eyes against the burning behind my eyes. "—help me, Carson—"

"You're freezing, a thaisce." A blanket was wrapped tightly around me and I was drawn into strong arms. A sense of righteous overflowed my body and I wept in pure relief, curling towards the person behind me. "—ai, ai—" A kiss pressed on top of my head. "What did she do to you now?"

"—Carson—" I whispered, closing my eyes even tighter. My heart cracked, splintered in a thousand pieces.

Suddenly I was a child again, curled up on top of my covers one late night after my mother had shouted at me all morning and then sent me upstairs without even as much as a piece of toast, deliberately shutting off the central heating to my room as well and forbidding the servants to bring me anything to eat or drink. Carson would always sneak into my room at the end of the day, to bring me a sandwich, sit with me and get me warmed up during the long winters.

A tiny sob ripped itself out of my throat and the memory, at the love I went without. "—I missed you—"

He chuckled, tightening his arms around me. "You're speaking riddles, a thaisce. Now eat your sandwich." My eyes opened and like I had conjured it up, he was holding a plate with my favourite sandwich: mozzarella, tomatoes and ham smoothed between thin slices of toast soaked in pesto. I devoured it. He laughed quietly, half smothering the sounds to prevent anyone from hearing. Even if my parents did not sleep in the same wing, someone was always up and about and the servants were too afraid of my mother not to report back. "That's more like it," he praised, smoothing my hair back. "Do you like it?"

I glanced up at him, question in my eyes. Of course I liked the sandwi—oh… He was fingering the pendant with a cautious but fond smile playing at the edges of his lips.

"Yes," I whispered all choked up. "You know I do. Two and a half years and I notice its absence still."

My hand would reach for the pendant when I felt insecure or nervous or when I was just plain lost in thought, but only empty space would await my greedy fingers. I had tried different necklaces, to replace it. Nothing had felt right. My search for a similar one had been unfruitful either.

Wait—I frowned. Why would I need a replacement? It was here, around my neck. As always.

"I'm glad." Carson smiled, smoothing my hair back again. "It's called a septagram, or a fairy star. It is a sacred symbol in Celtic Mythology."

Somewhere in the back of my head an alarm bell went off. There was something about this conversation—something was wrong—Carson kissed the top of my head and the worry disappeared in a cloud of smoke. I leaned into him, savouring his smell and warmth, nibbling one the last bit of my sandwich.

"What does a sepa-seta-sepgr-" My tongue broke over the difficult word, feeling much too thick and heavy in my mouth. And my voice had a childish wonder to it. I stared wide-eyed up at him. "What does the star mean?"

"Septagram," laughed Carson, tapping my nose. "It's a difficult word, especially for one so young." A big smile spread over my face. I longed for this unconditional type of affection, the one I only ever got from him. "It has two meanings, a thaisce. First—see each of these points? They all represent something vital, something that connects us all and keeps us alive." He tapped on the first point and then traced the others clockwise. "Sun, Forest, Sea, Magic –"

"Magic?" I interrupted, my heart fluttering in excitement and my fingers prickling with an unfamiliar urge.

He laughed, tapping my nose again in that playful way that made my entire face lit up. "Yes, my precious. Magic."

Dread settled in, extinguishing the urge like a fire deprived oxygen, despite the smile that lingered on my face. "Mama says magic isn't real."

"And you?" His smile remained, his tone still soft and kind, but his eyes—His eyes grew colder. Harsher. Dangerous almost. An involuntary shudder rushed down my spine, like ice spiders slithered down my skin. "Do you believe it exists?"

"Something isn't right." I shivered, curling into myself as a cold unlike anything seeped through the dress into my skin. I could barely feel my fingers… "I need to run."

I tried to get out of his grip, to run away, to find somewhere warm. "—y-ye-yes—"

The harshness melted, if only slightly. "Then it exists. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise." He traced the last points and my fingers followed his instinctively. "Moon, Wind, and Spirit." His hands retreated, causing the pendant to fall straight into my own hands. It was so heavy… "But they also represent a pathway."

I flicked the coin back and forth between my numb fingers. Internally a war was fought, one side wanting nothing more but to remain where I was, another screaming for me to run. All while my eyes took in all the details on the little piece of metal I was holding. The front was a deep midnight blue with a golden star standing out against it. The back was smooth and solid at first glance but when my fingers traced it, it detected hidden lines. I knew the lines formed words, but they were written in a language I could not read.

"A pathway to where?" I heard myself ask, though I already knew the answer. "Run, you fool! Run, run, run!"

I stared at the pendant, long and hard, willing the hidden words to reveal their meaning. "The Faerie Realm." My gaze snapped up, somewhat horrified. But he laughed and mistook my horror. "That caught your attention, hmm? Why am I not surprised?" My fingers tightened on the pendant. "To get there you must master what each point stands for. Not an easy task. They all blend together, nurturing one another but also connecting all that lives. If you succeed in mastering them, you will unlock a transformation beyond your imagination."

"Like Enchantix?" I dared to ask, my stomach fluttering in excitement. "—run, run, run—"

"Oh, my smart little fairy." Carson wrapped his arms tighter around me, snuggling his nose in the crook of my neck. I squealed with laughter as he showered me in sloppy kisses and tickled my ribs. "Now come dance with me, little Red."

Just like that Carson spun me around. I twirled with a laugh, my head floating and dizzy, trusting he would catch me like he always did. Instead a different pair of strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me against an equally strong chest, the smell of leather, ash and a familiar cologne overwhelming my senses and ensnaring me, body and soul.

There was only one person in this universe who smelled like that and the urge to run vanished like Musa's interest when Stella started talking about fashion.

I beamed up at the man now holding me, meeting the familiar grey eyes. "Wolf." He shot me a subdued smile back. It was all I needed. I threw myself into his arms, resting my head against his collarbone and cuddling as close to him as possible, savouring the safety that I only found when I was in his embrace. "You came."

His chest rumbled in quiet laughter under my ear, his lips probably pulling into that infamous crooked smirk of his. "You did not truly think I would leave you to deal with these bloodsucking snobs all on your own, now did you? I'm cruel, darling, but not that cruel. Give me some credit."

"Credit?" I laughed, raising my head. For the first time I was happy my mother had dragged me to this party. I beamed at him. "Last time you set fire to the banquet table and threatened to ruthlessly torture my parents in front of their guests until their hearts gave out."

The gleam in Valtor's eyes turned wicked and my stomach plummeted so quickly I momentarily couldn't breathe. "—something is wrong—run—I have to run—"

"I already did that, darling," purred Valtor, his eyes flashing red. "Don't you remember? You quite enjoyed the spectacle." He spun me around, stopping me halfway and pulling my back against his chest, forcing my gaze away from him. My breath hitched, a scream lodging in my throat. The lifeless bodies of my parents laid before me on the floor. My silver heels were drenched in their blood, which continued to pour out of every pore. Their eyes were staring unseeingly up at the ceiling, wide and terrified. I could still sense the remnants of their horror and agony around me.

I stumbled back, horrified. I wanted to get away from them, away from this scene. Valtor's hands tightened around my upper arms, keeping me where I was. His nails were sharp and digging into my flesh till they drew blood. I clenched my eyes shut and turned my head away deliberately, desperate to unsee.

His grip tightened even more and I whimpered in pain. "Look at them," he ordered, his voice deep and dark and evil and nothing like my Wolf. I let out a tiny cry, shaking my head and refusing. "Look at them, little fairy. Look at what you did." I shook my head, refusing once more. This time with a clenched jaw. I would not be swayed. "LOOK AT THEM!"

I whimpered, my legs shaking like young trees in a storm, wanting to refuse but being so terrified of what would happen. Inch by inch I cracked my eyes open. I swayed when I saw my parents were no longer in front of me and it was that I was being held up or I would have sunken to the floor, maybe even fainted.

The girls had taken their place. Their mail was all but torn off, long gashes and burns staining every inch of their exposed skin. One of Tecna's wings was dislodged and throw across the room. The guests were pushing it around as they danced, not noticing or caring. Stella's head was bent in a peculiar angle, remnants of tears staining her bloody cheeks. Flora's stomach was ripped apart, her intestines lying more beside her on the floor than still being inside her cavity. And Musa…

The bile rose so quickly that I couldn't have pushed it back even if I wanted to. At first I had thought that Tecna's mutilated body had been half covering her, like Musa had drawn her into her lap and held her as she died. The truth was—the upper part of her body was lying by Tecna, her lower part…

I threw up, desperate to sink to the floor and rip my eyes out to unsee this.

"Isn't it beautiful?" murmured a deep dark voice in my ear, the claws finally releasing my arms. "Well done, little fairy. You've made me so very proud."

I raised a hand to wipe my mouth and froze. Something warm, red and sticky was coating my hands like silicon gloves. Little drops rolled down my arms, the substance so much like my mother's favourite lipstick—dripdrip—to the floor… My gaze travelled further down, finding the same substance covering my dress in wide smears.

Like I had wiped my hands on the pink fabric…

"—no—" I whispered, horrified. My fingers shook, my knees buckling. "—no, please, no—" I spun around, towards Valtor or whoever had gripped me so tightly. There was no one there. I was all alone, standing in the middle of the dance floor with carnage surrounding me. The couples continued to circle around me, their fake smiles plastered on their faces while they danced. "Wolf!" I cried. No reply. "Valtor! Valtor, please! Help me! Tell me I did not do this!" The musicians changed the tune, playing something that awfully resembled the Rains of Castamere. My bloody hands shot up and gripped my hair tightly, the walls seemed to be closing in on me. Slowly. Menacingly. "—no—this—this can't be happening—this isn't right—something isn't right—I have to—I have to—"

"Run," whispered my inner voice. "Run."

It didn't need to say it again: I bolted, worming my way through the thick crowd. But the people around me blocked my path. When they saw me coming, they put themselves between me and the exit and before my eyes they morphed into a familiar figure.

Not a hair out of place.

Dressed in her signature black Dior dress.

Her copper hair curled up in an eccentric bun.

Her lips as red as blood.

Her blue eyes cold and menacing, sharp and intelligent but oh so cruel.

Like the image of her wasn't enough, the eyes flickered with recognition whenever I met them.

"Run!" The cry became ever louder. "Run as hard as you can. Get as far away from here as possible."

I elbowed my way through the people, avoiding their gazes as best as I could. But the more I struggled, the closer they came until I was surrounded by them, suffocated by them and their cold eyes.

"Carson!" I screamed, curling into myself as the room around me grew ever smaller. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. Soon enough I would be trapped between the walls, not able to even twist around. I would suffocate. Slowly. Painfully. "Help!"

"I never did like him." I clasped my hands over my ears as the voice of my mother rippled through the room, hundreds of versions speaking at the same time. It was hollow and haunting, emotionless and—I would almost say she sounded possessed. "He took you away from me. He will pay. I never did like him—" And the whole tirade began again, growing ever more menacing.

I sank to the floor, clutching my hands ever tighter over my eyes. "Stop! Go away!" My hands were useless. The words echoed constantly through my head no matter how hard I tried to drown them out. "Run…" They wouldn't allow me to run, but I had to get away. I crawled away on hands and knees, staining everything with more blood. The floor was covered in it—no, it seemed to have been made out of it.

I was ready to give up and drown myself in the blood to escape this torture when the door finally appeared. I stumbled through it and was greeted by cold and darkness. The harsh unmerciful wind nipped at every part of my exposed flesh and froze my tears.

"Valtor… Carson… Anyone…" I curled in a ball, whimpering, weeping, clutching the pendant tightly in my hand for some form of reassurance and safety. "—please—"

I wasn't even sure what I was praying for.

It went unanswered.

Even worse, the opposite happened: the nightmare continued.

A sudden warmth covered me, so intense that it burned. I screamed and tried to crawl away. That thing – my not Wolf – it had come back. It would drag me back, force me to do unspeakable things, to live under my mother's thumb once more…

Strong hands grabbed me and hauled me back. I screamed louder and thrashed, desperate to get away. I couldn't go back. I would rather die than go back.

"NO! NO! I'm not looking! You can't—I didn't—I would never—"

"Red." I screamed and fought, kicking as best as I could which wasn't all that great since I was still on my knees. "Red, look at me." My hands searched for something to hold but found only snow. The one holding me cursed and pressed me to the floor, covering my body with their own. "Damn it, Red. Bloom. Sybil. Whatever the fuck your name is! Just—Damn it, look at me, RED!"

"No! Let go of me!" I screamed and cried, smashing my fists on the ground, not hearing the words. "I need to—Run—Something isn't—run—"

The person on top of me let out the deepest sigh and then—

"Eliane –" whispered the voice suddenly in my ear, soft and caring. "– my queen."

Something shattered, broke into a million pieces, and the haze of panic lifted.

I had no control over my body, which seemed to have been uprooted by the storm and was now caught in the heart of a tornado. "Ww-wwo-wol-wolf?"

Valtor let out a deep sigh from on top of me, one so deep that I could feel it through my whole body. "—finally—!" I slummed into the snow with a loud cry and then started sobbing uncontrollably. "—oh, fuck—" He scrambled up from me. "—why are you—" The moment I sensed him kneeling beside me, I forced myself on my knees and threw myself at him, clutching the labels of his coat and burying my face in his chest. "—fuck—" He sounded both exasperated and clueless.

I tightened my grip and sobbed my heart out.

If these were the nightmares hypothermia caused, I would never leave my room again without at least five layers.

"—there, there—" Valtor awkwardly petted me on the back. "—everything is alright—" He didn't quite sound sure. "—what the fuck are you wearing?"

That was the wrong question to ask. I remembered with a start I still had to be wearing the disgusting, blood-covered raspberry-pink dress, the one I had slaughtered my friends in. I wailed and clung even tighter to him. He let out a deep sigh before wrapping his arms around me, his hands burning through his gloves and warming whatever part of my skin they touched.

"Bloom, what happened?" My mind had to be playing games on me because he actually sounded concerned. "Darling, you need to calm down and tell me. Who attacked you? Were it the Trix?" For a moment his breath hitched and when he continued, he truly sounded worried. That was when I knew I had to be still dreaming. "Darkar?"

No, I wanted to answer. No, not Darkar. Something much much worse.

"—m-my-mii-m—" I tried to force the words out but my throat kept closing at the memories.

My mother had been in Vanessa's shop.

My mother had been standing in the middle of my safe haven and looking around with barely hidden disgust.

My mother with Vanessa by her side, Vanessa who had looked at her like she had hung the moon and the stars.

And-and—

She had recognized me. It wasn't possible. This was a different universe. She had never conceived a child. Sybil Blackburn did not exist. Yet when our eyes had met, the recognition in hers had been unmistakable.

Valtor's arms tightened around me. "Shh." One hand found its way into my hair and he just started to run his fingers through it. "It's alright. You're alright. She can't hurt you. Not anymore. You're safe."

His soft reassuring words with the way he was slowly running his fingers through my hair was strangely soothing. My sobs quietened eventually, turning into little hiccups, and my grip on his coat loosened with what I swore was an able creak of protest from my fingers.

"Listen to me, Red –" His voice dropped to the volume of a whisper, forcing me to strain my ears to properly understand him. His fingers were still combing through my hair, which was a problem. It was distracting, almost hypnotizing, and I had trouble focussing on what he was saying. "– and listen well. Whatever power she had over you? It's gone. Remember that. You're the Keeper of the Dragon's Flame, the rightful ruler of Domino. Nothing she can do or say will change that. It might not feel like it – I know it doesn't at this moment – but if there is anyone who should be scared, it is that fucking harpy."

He brushed my hair back before tipping my chin up with a gentle finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were burning and murderous, but also soft and caring. The man was the epitome of an enigma. "The only reason a parent has to abuse their child is fear, helpless all-consuming fear. That they will outgrow them, grow to become powerful and successful in a way they could only dream of. They are scared, envious, vindictive, simply because they know that despite all their efforts, they can never win. It makes them feel powerless and weak."

My heart seemed to grow in size with each word he spoke, threatening to jump out of my chest. I let out a tiny hiccup, tears gathering once more in my eyes. Valtor's eyes softened and hardened at the same time. "Even long before you discovered your true identity, your mother feared what you would become and hated you for it. Take that as the greatest compliment you can ever receive, not as a flaw."

He cupped my cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears away. I had never desired anything more but to lean forward and kiss him, to tell him without words just how much that meant to me, how much he meant to me. "You are a force to be reckoned with, Eliane of Domino –" I shuddered when he used that name again. Messed up as it was, I could get used to being called that if that was what he would call me. "– and will remain that even if you would lose your powers. She is nothing compared to you, not even worth the dirt beneath your feet let alone these precious tears. Next time she so much as glances at you, remember that you have the power to rip her eyes out and make her feel everything she has done to you in tenfold. You are free of her, which is a gift rarely bestowed on anyone." His jaw clenched for a second and this time the anger that flashed in his eyes was unmistakable. It was gone as quickly as it had come, and the usual façade of disinterest took its place. "Now dry those tears and give me a smile. You're better than this."

Rather than heed his words, I threw my arms around his neck and clung to him as tight as I could. Tears dripped down my cheeks again, but this time for a completely different reason. "—thank you—" I whispered, turning my head enough so I could press a long kiss on his cheek and then bury my face in the crook of his neck. I could stay like this forever, safe and warm in his arms. Protected. "—sometimes I wonder what would have become of me if I hadn't found you—"

Valtor let out a rather amused scoff. "Don't grow all sentimental on me now, Red. It doesn't suite you, first and foremost. And secondly, it makes me queasy."

"Sure it does, Wolf." I smiled, calling his bluff without opening my eyes or looking at him. "Who would have guessed the mighty, dimension-wide-feared Valtor is such a simp deep down?" I laughed when that earned me a rather harsh tug on my hair. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. Besides, it's not like anyone would believe me."

"—hmph—" was the grunt he let out, which was not exactly denial or confirmation. "You need to wake up, Red." I frowned. Where had that come from? The last thing I wanted was to wake up. I was warm and safe and most importantly, being held by him. He would protect me from the nightmares and chase anyone even resembling my mother away. I wanted to stay here. "You're freezing and not even my magic seems to be able to counter it. Where in the nine circles of hell are you?"

Now that was a question good enough to force my eyes open and my brows to furrow. "You know? I'm not quite sure." He let out a deep sigh and if he hadn't still been holding me, I imagined he would be pinching his nose in exasperation. "I remember seeing my mother and then just…" I sighed, finally releasing my grip on him. "I just ran. I didn't have any destination in mind, just to get as far away from her as possible."

"A rather justified instinct." I glanced up somewhat surprised and a rather bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You seem to have forgotten that my maternal figures would get along with yours splendidly."

"—right—" I flinched. I had forgotten who I had been talking to, or rather said, which three evil-incarnated hags were responsible for his upbringing. Lord, I wished the floor could open underneath me and swallow me whole. Here I was crying my eyes out, being terrified of a human woman, while he… What horrors had they made him endure? I felt sick just considering it. "—sorry—"

"None of that." Valtor dismissed the apology with a simple wave of his hand. "Don't tell me that one small encounter with your mother has undone all my hard work. I considered having beaten that annoying habit out of you quite the accomplishment."

I rolled my eyes fondly. Only Valtor would usurp the victory over my needless apologies as his own. "The unparalleled and endlessness that is your arrogance continues to amaze me, Wolf."

He flicked my nose. "It's not arrogance if it is true." I tilted an unimpressed eyebrow and he rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, your needless and entirely unjustified insults certainly ruined the mood. If you're going to be mean, you can leave. See if I care."

"Perhaps, but I care. A great deal as you well know," I countered, my heart light and warm, the lingering fear and panic nothing but a tiny shadow in a corner of my mind. And I had him to thank for that. I made up my mind and pressed another kiss – nothing more than a little peck – on his face before I lost the nerve. This time, though, I did not aim for his cheek. No, I pressed it firmly on his mouth. He stiffened instantly. I smiled shily as I pulled back, heat rushing up my neck. "Thank you, Wolf. And I meant what I said: I really have no idea where I would be without you."

When I rose to my feet and willed my consciousness to return to my body, to wake up, the last thing I saw was a rather stunned wizard still kneeling in the snow, in the exact spot I had left him in.

I woke strangely, for the lack of a better word. My senses were dull, like the thick familiar mist that was my depression had returned in tenfold. My body was stiff and cold, shivering and curled up in a ball. Yet there was a heat at the same time that I wanted to shy away from. It burned too brightly and too hotly for comfort. The contrast with the cold was simply too much.

I groaned groggily. Part of me wanted to turn over and go back to sleep. I needed sleep. My eyes stung and were swollen, my throat raw and desperate for water. And my mind, my poor abused mind… It was stretched thin and strung tighter than Tecna's favourite outfit.

Another part, a much larger part, urged me to get up, to move and run again. Not away. This had nothing to do with my mother.

Or had it?

I wasn't sure. But it compelled me to return. Quickly. There was something there. Something was waiting for me. But I wasn't sure what. Only that I needed to get up and get there before—before—before what?

I wanted to hit my forehead repeatedly, just in the hope it would clear this mist.

"Bloom?" I shuddered at the itch that arose on my back. "Angel? Are you awake?"

There was only one being in this universe who called me "angel".

"Daphne." I turned as best as I could without uncurling, trying to shoot her a sad smile but it felt more like a grimace. My cheeks had apparently frozen solid while I was out cold. My sister was on her knees beside me, her hands stretched out to me. Relief was plastered all over her face. Behind her arose the familiar though not yet explored halls of Domino's royal palace. Either I was still dreaming or—"I'm on Domino?" She nodded, folding her hands in her lap. I frowned. "How did I get here?" The last truly clear thing I remembered was running through the streets of Gardena, my vision clouded by tears, and then just icy coldness.

"You transported yourself here." Daphne grimaced. "And then took off running, venturing deep into the snow. By the time the Dragon alerted me, you were unconscious and—" Her bottom lip quivered. "Oh, my little angel. Please never scare me like that again. My magic has its limits. Even if I still had been alive, I would not have been able to heal, not like you can heal others."

"I'm sorry."

For not the first time I wanted nothing more but to hug Daphne. I hadn't been able to visit her or Domino after that first time so many—well, it felt like months while in truth it had only been a few weeks, barely a month. Yet at the same time…

I visited Domino every single night. It was where Valtor waited not so patiently for me. It was like I had stepped foot on the surface only yesterday.

Did that make any sense?

Whether or not it did, the bottom line was that I hadn't seen or spoken to Daphne since breaking Domino's curse. It might have felt like forever for me – or not – it had to be even worse for her. Unlike me, she didn't have any studies at Alfea to distract her, or the four best friends any girl could wish for, or even lying traitorous Specialists.

The guilt hit me like a sledgehammer. "Daphne, I'm so sorry." And this time I wasn't just apologizing for scaring her like that. "I didn't mean—I'm such a bitch—Please don't think I only visit when I want something from you because I swear that's not—!"

"Bloom." My beautiful, not-quite-alive but not-quite-dead sister smiled sadly. "Don't forget that I've been trapped in this state for already quite some time. What do a few weeks matter in the long haul?"

She probably meant it reassuringly but being confronted by her loneliness for so long only made me feel worse. "God, that's really depressing." A horrendous thought crossed my mind. How often had Daphne not wished for the blissfulness that was death in all those long and lonely weeks? "Is there no way of Domino for you?" I whispered, my voice hoarse and broken with emotion. "Is there nothing I can do to help you? There has to be something!"

Daphne cupped my cheek as well as she could. "You're here, angel. That's all that matters."

I wiped at the itch where she was touching me, finding my cheeks moist. I groaned. When had I started crying again? Ugh, this day was quickly growing out to be the worst. If I would not wake up tomorrow with the mother of all migraines, I would—

My head snapped at the faint whisper floating through the air. My name. Someone was calling my name, though I couldn't decipher which one of three I claimed as my own, or whether the caller was male or female. Honestly, the whisper lacked words all together. It was more a feeling than a call. Were sirens a thing here? It sounded suspiciously like one and death by flesh-eating birdwomen sounded like a dumb way to go. Or at least I guessed they had to be birdwomen, since Andros had merfolk in the cartoon and they hadn't been man-eating monsters.

Well, they hadn't been until Valtor had entered the scene.

A tingle ran down my back when the call grew louder, more urgent, causing Goosebumps to erupt all over my skin. My eyes searched vigorously for the source, settling on the exit. There. It came from there, beyond the castle walls.

"Bloom?" My fingers itched and I quickly pulled them away, rising to my feet while keeping my gaze focussed on the exit. "Bloom, angel, what's wrong?"

My name was called, this time softly and alluring, seductively yet kind. The voice was familiar in a way I couldn't pinpoint. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in, allowing the would-be siren's call to wash over me. The smell of expensive leather met me and I was hit by an intense longing, one that made me tear up all over again. I wanted to go home, to England, see my parents, hug Carson, immerse myself in my own bath and not emerge until I felt like me again.

"Bloom?"

I ignored the unfamiliar voice that called. Home. I needed to return home. They were waiting for me. There was no time to waste.

I raised my hand, not even fully understanding what I was doing but a portal appeared and I stepped through it without another thought. Behind me the unfamiliar voice cried out in alarm and fear: "Bloom!"

When I stepped out of the swirls of red, I was most definitely NOT in England. The trees surrounding me were just not British enough. They were too exotic. The not-hazed part of my brain reminded me there were plenty of palm trees in Cornwall but the thought floated away before I could fully grasp it, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

The clearing I had landed in felt wrong somehow. Familiar but wrong. I had been here before. It hadn't been pleasant. Four shapes had surrounded me and a haze of darkness, sucking all the energy out of me…

I shuddered, bile rising to my mouth.

The voice called out to me again, and instantly the memory escaped my grasp, slipping away along with all my logic thoughts. "Come." My feet moved on their own volution. "You're almost there…"

The siren's voice did not clarify where I needed to go, but my feet knew the way and carried me there effortlessly. One step right in front of the other and my path led away from the clearing. Street lamps emerged, their glow warm and soft. They illuminated the empty streets I now walked. The rows of townhouses I passed provided them some aid in that department, though most of them had drawn the curtains and had the lights switched off.

"—what time is it—?" My feet lost their rapid pace when I wondered that and I tumbled to the ground when I tripped over them. "—ouch—" I raised a hand, and found it scuffed and bloody and—trembling? My fingers were shaking and pale, paler than usual. Hadn't I been cold earlier? Hadn't it seeped into my bones? Then how—

"Come," ordered the would-be siren's voice, though that was the meaning I gave to the feeling. They weren't words, not really. Still I fully understood what they meant. All my worries disappeared and I rose to my feet, obeying without a second thought. Without worry.

Why should I be worried? Whoever was calling—they were calling me home. It was time to go home. I missed home. Why hadn't I tried to return earlier?

My feet stumbled when something flickered inside my chest, tugged at something underneath my midriff. "Why haven't I?" I frowned. "There's something keeping me here—"

"Come." The order came sharper than before and my frown deepened when that smell which reminded me so strongly of home lifted and temporarily gave way to something much sweeter and a hell of a lot more dangerous. "Come now."

My legs moved, but my frown remained. "Why?" I wondered yet again, fighting against the thick mist surrounding my mind. "I ran away earlier? Didn't that have something to do with home?" For a brief moment something ripped through the haze, blind panic. "Run!" But the haze snapped back around me at a speed that forced all the air out of my lungs. This time not even the tug underneath my midriff made me pause.

I was going home and that was the end of it.

I continued to walk, a smile growing on my face as I neared my destination. "—almost—" The glee in the siren's voice was practically palpable. "—almo—"

The haze snapped so suddenly that I gasped for air, air my lungs refused to take in. My knees buckled and I tumbled to the ground for a second time. Shards of pain shot right up my arms and legs, but worse was the ever-consuming sting of cold. It ripped through my muscles and bones, digging its claws into every cell and freezing it over, locking everything together.

"—f-f-fu-fuck—" I rubbed my hands over my arms, my teeth audible clattering. It was that I consciously moved my hands, because I didn't feel them, nor how they brushed my skin. My own fault. I had to go and run a marathon on the planet currently being used as one of the nine circles of Hell. "—wh-why d-di-did I-I-I p-p-pick D-d-dom-mino? 'ould h-have tran-tran-sp-sported my-my-myself t'th-the Car-car-carib-bea-bean. Or So-so-solaria—ni-nice w-w-warm—" I yelped when something crashed up ahead, instinctively shying away from the noise.

I had to blink a few times and rub my hands a bit harder over my arms, before my sanity returned fully and I recognized where I was. Gardena. I had returned to Gardena, to Earth. But rather than go home to Mike and Vanessa and Stella—

Oh, God! Panic gripped my throat. Mike, Vanessa and Stella! I must have left them in a right state, running off like that without a word. Without my phone!

I had to get home, apologize, explain I had a panic attack. Right now!

I had to ask why my mother had been in the shop.

I needed to know, to understand.

Why had she even been in the States? She rarely travelled.

Angry voices drifted towards me and I flinched back even more. The memories lingered heavily and for a second I was cowering in a corner of the room, trying to make myself disappear while my parents argued. My father threw his glass at the wall in fury, the shards flying everywhere, raining down on me…

It would have explained the glass breaking.

I had to be back…

I gasped at the hard tug beneath my midriff, my hands flying to my stomach. "Wolf…" I almost started sobbing again. Even while he was realms away and imprisoned in ice, he still managed to centre me. "Guess I'd better give him another kiss next time I see him…"

I giggled, my cheeks on fire. I pressed my cold fingers to them. I could barely believe I had done that. I had kissed Valtor. Sure, it was more of a peck but still. I had kissed hi—

The giddiness disappeared when my eyes landed on the lone car parked some feet away. A Rolls Royce. What was a freaking Rolls Royce doing in Gardena? I hadn't seen one since coming here, which wasn't that odd. They were cars mostly used by wealthy entrepreneurs. London's upper class drove them whenever they had something to prove, or when they simply wanted to brag. Back in London I would see them daily. This was the first time since waking up in this universe that I laid eyes on one because they were simply that rare in the USA, especially in Gardena.

Its presence didn't make any sense whatsoever.

I blinked, rubbing my eyes, before staring some more on the blurry image of the Rolls. It didn't change or disappear, just stayed right where it was. Focussing was quite the task with how hard I was shaking, but when I finally managed it… My stomach turned. It wasn't just any Royce. It was a Rolls Royce Phantom, Carson's favourite. My parents had owned one and whenever he could get away with it, he would drive me around in it. It was his pride and joy, despite officially belonging to my father. He loved that thing as much as he had loved me and took great care of it, keeping it squeaking clean. Due to his careful administrations the car despite its age had never quite lost that new car smell, and the two were so entwined that when I thought of Carson, the first thing that hit me was the smell of expensive leather.

The smell of expensive leather…

Dread settled in my stomach like a brick and I pressed one hand against my mouth and another against my stomach to stop myself from depositing my stomach's content on the pavement.

First my mother had appeared in Vanessa's shop. Then I had been almost lured to my death by a would-be siren's call that reminded me of Carson. Now Carson's favourite car was parked in the street. That was too much of a coincidence and Wolf always claimed there was no such thing.

I stared at the Rolls Royce, swallowing constantly to push the bile back and willing the car to disappear. To morph into anything but a Rolls Royce Phantom. Anything.

The sleek black car with its signature sculpture – the Spirit of Ectasy, that was what I believed Carson had always called it – remained the same. Parked in the same street I was currently occupying. In front of—I should know where it was parked in front of but the words eluded me, flickering in and out of existence like a candle in the wind.

I wasn't sure how long I had been sitting on the pavement, staring at the car and wishing with all my might it would change, when the voices rose. It took me another moment longer to realise that while I could hear them – loud and clear – I didn't understand them. The language they spoke… I shuddered. It was the same as the siren's voice, almost if not fully identical. I could not understand the words – though there was a tiny insistence flicker in my chest that nagged that I should for some reason – but I could picture their meaning easily.

Anger.

Resentment.

Disgust.

"—traitor—" I rose to my feet, onto my numb shaking legs as the word echoed through my head. "—traitor—" Was the one who had called me here the traitor? Or was it—I barely dared to think it, to hope. Carson did not exist in this universe. I had endlessly searched for his name without any results. But the coincidences—it was just too weird—could it really be?

I had to know even if the disappointment that would inevitably follow, would crush me.

I stumbled into the direction of the voices, keeping myself almost fully pressed against the facades of the shops. To keep myself steady and to keep out of sight. I prayed I was going into the right direction. The sound of my frantic heart drowned everything else out.

I hissed when a sharp pain shot through my numb fingers, the sensation so quick and intense that it burned. I pulled my hand back. Gushing red blood greeted me.

A floor made of blood.

Mutilated bodies.

"—I never did like him—"

The bile rose so quickly that I couldn't have swallowed it back even if I wanted to. I managed to stumble just a few steps forward, away from the shops, and drop back to my knees before I retched my insides out.

"—he took you away from me—he will pay—"

Shapes were dancing around me, closing in on me.

I was trapped. Suffocating.

"—no, no, no, no—" I dug my nails into my knees to centre myself, fighting against the retching that overtook my body again and again. "—not real, not real—" The shapes came closer and I sobbed between the retching. "—please—"

"A thaisce." I swore fingers ran through my hair, smoothing it back. "My treasure."

I gazed up, around, but there was no one. No dancing pairs inching closer. No walls closing in on me. No sign of my mother. No Carson.

Just an empty street, a pavement littered in glass shards, and a Rolls Royce Phantom that was parked in front of… "—Vanessa's shop—" I finally recognized the spot the Rolls was parked in front of me. The pounding in my ears grew louder. Someone had broken into Vanessa's shop, the same one my mother had been in earlier. The Rolls was parked in front of it, the one Carson had favourited above everything else. The voices arguing came from inside, their language foreign and familiar and exactly like the would-be-siren's call.

Not a coincidence.

It couldn't be.

Why oh why did these things always happen whenever I left Alfea?

I stumbled towards the broken window. I had to see. I needed to know.

I deserved answers. I would demand them.

I wasn't sure what I had expected to find, but the sight that greeted me wasn't it.

Three men. Three tiny men.

I had grown so used to the tall men in the Magic Dimension that these three were the Davids in comparison to the usual Goliaths I was surrounded by. The two closest to me and the broken window would fit right in with the males of the Magic Dimension if not for their height: they were dressed in those shimmering, silk-like but softer sleeveless robes the men there wore as well. The expensive kind I had seen on the headmasters and male councilmen, the ones that screamed power and privileges.

I couldn't see their faces, they had their backs turned to me, but they had strong and sexy backs which made me suspect that they would be ridiculously handsome. Even if they had slicked their hair back with what had to be a disgusting amount of gel.

The two closest to me were blocking my view on the last one. It was almost like they had deliberately put themselves between him and me, which was unlikely since they had no idea I was there. Still, I caught flashes of the last one and it spiked my curiosity.

A silver chain around a wrist.

A big flashy signet ring on a pinkie finger.

A flicker of blue eyes.

A dark blue suit with a white striped pattern.

At least he was dressed more accordingly to Earth's fashion, though he still reeked of power and privileges. That had to be a Giorgio Armani suit on him. I had learned to distinguish the real thing from the fake, courtesy of my mother. And a little of Stella, who had demanded I introduce her to Earth Fashion.

Before my eyes the argument grew even more intense. Words I could not understand were shouted; hands waved through the air to make signs I guessed were the equivalent of flipping the bird; fingers were pointed and shaken; the air crackled with magic.

I inched closer to get a better look.

Just what exactly was going on?

And why did they bother to remain here? Magical creatures or not – and I had little doubt they were – they had broken into Vanessa's shop, which was now the scene of a crime. They couldn't know that they hadn't tripped an alarm and that the police weren't on their way, that Vanessa had been holding off the installation of said alarm for years despite Mike's insistence.

"Who in their right mind would break into a flower shop?" had been her argument when Mike had tried to compromise and had suggested a dummy camera. To scare potential burglars off. "Especially with so many more profitable shops around?"

I had sided with her at the time. Now I wished she had listened to Mike and gotten an alarm. The police might not stand a chance against these magical creatures but their presence could potentially scare them off. A camera would have even been better. I wouldn't have to stare at them from a distance, wishing one of them would just move a little so I could see their faces. Now I had to rely on my unreliable memory to describe their features to Tecna, just so she could run them through her database. If Vanessa had installed a camera, I could have just showed her the images. She would have grumbled about the quality, but it was better than—

Like they had heard my earlier thoughts, one of the men twisted slightly back, drawing his arm under his long coat. And there was my confirmation. He was ridiculously handsome with sharp and clear features. dark hair that made his eyes look even bluer than they were, heightened even more by the scr—

I caught sight of the final man – the one in the suit – and all air was knocked out of me.

Half-long salt-and-pepper-hair.

Strong cheekbones that were partly hidden behind a modest beard that was as salt-and-pepper coloured as his hair.

Thick busy eyebrows that were permanently stuck in a frown.

Blue eyes so exactly like my own that I had once asked if he was my real father, praying with all my might that he would say yes.

It couldn't be.

I had to be seeing things.

But no matter how often I blinked and rubbed my eyes, he was still there. Invoking feelings inside me that were the exact opposite of the ones my mother had invoked earlier that day.

"—Carson—"

His head snapped into my direction and our eyes – so similar – locked eyes. I choked on a new batch of tears, my body trembling with the unrestraint desire to rush forward and throw myself in his arms. I needed his hug, needed him to hold me as I cried my eyes out. I wanted to tell him everything: how crazy my life had been the last two and a half years, how much I had missed him, how often I had wished he would appear and give me some wise and much needed advice. I wanted him to wrap a blanket around my body, hand me his signature sandwich and entertain me for hours with Celtic mythology until I could no longer remember why I had been worried or upset.

"Carson…" I choked out, his name whispered in a mixture of pure delight and utter agony. Was this real? Was he truly here? I took a step forward, to run to him as my body urged me to do. Glass crunched under the soles of my shoes.

And he was still staring at me, without any flicker of recognition. Worse, when he noticed I was making a move forward, he softly shook his head and tilted his head slightly to the side in the unmistakable order for me to leave.

Another sob locked itself in my throat, a hand flying up to smother any sounds that would escape my lips, the other searching for the comfort of the pendant he had once given me but I no longer had.

This was worse than the inevitable disappointed I had mentally prepared myself for.

I could handle the fact he did not exist in this universe, but him being alive and well and right in front of me without recognizing me?

My eyes burned, the pressure behind them so thick and heavy it felt like my head would explode, and I could hear my heart shatter into a million pieces. I cursed myself for hoping for even a second that my life from before had somehow found a way into this world, that the recognition in my mother's eyes was anything but a flaw and others would remember me too—that he would remember.

"Silly naïve little girl with dreams too bi…"

Time seemed to slow down when the handsome man previously blocking my view on Carson moved again. His hand reappeared from under his coat – now cloaked in a thick leather glove I wasn't sure he had worn before – and flashed through the air, straight towards Carson. In it he was holding a menacing dark object that made my head explode, my ears to throb like they were bleeding, and my heart to ache like it was pumping acid around rather than blood.

Just like the gate and the simulator at Alfea caused.

I couldn't breathe. A deep, dark and all-consuming sense of foreboding washed over me. I wanted to scream but my tongue was suddenly too thick in my mouth, blocking both air and speech. I could do nothing but watch in horror as the shadow sliced through the air, its momentum heightened when the man took a step forward.

Time suddenly sped up again with that little movement and the shadow flashed and then hit its mark, right in Carson's chest.

Carson who had still been looking at me.

Carson who hadn't been paying attention to the two other men.

Carson whose mouth fell open in a silent scream when the shadow struck, his eyes widening in shock as they zeroed in on the object that was now lodged in his chest.

The blockage in my throat came free and my scream of outrage and desperation was accompanied by a burst of power I had only experienced a handful of times before, a surge of power so raw and powerful that I could never master consciously.

I faintly heard more glass shattering, possibly some agonizing screams, but they were soon drowned out by the sound of my frantic heart.

I only saw red.

I only heard red.

I only felt red.

And I did not fight it, just let it all out.

.

.

.

When the red mist finally cleared, fire surrounded me and I was on my knees. Two burning heaps that only faintly resembled bodies laid close to the door, like they had tried to run and escape my wrath only to fail. The remaining glass had shattered, outward this time rather than inward.

Everything burned, minus a tiny circle around me. Me and Carson, who was lying before me and struggling to breath. Blood was drippling down the corner of his mouth, the shadow sticking out of his chest. It had just nicked his heart, I realised as I observed the damage strangely numb and detached. It had to be. It was in the right place, but if it had been a direct hit… We wouldn't be in this position. He would already be dead.

"D-d-don't move." My fingers felt thick and unresponsive as I clamped them around the wound. My coordination was off, my skin and muscles suddenly too big like I was wearing my mother's oversized shoes. I was picking at my uncooperative brain for the right healing spell, urging it to function so I could save the man who had practically been like a father to be. "y-y-you n-need t-to b-b-be st-sti-still." But Carson was anything but still. His fingers curled around mine, trying to get them away from the wound. His lips moved as he struggled to breath, as he struggled to speak. "Shh," I begged, tiny sobs ripping themselves out of my throat. "Shh. Do-don't speak. You-you're going to-you're going to be alright. I'm-I'm goi-I'm-" I sobbed, clutching the wound tighter. I could feel his life slipping away. I needed to do something. But my brain was foggy, refusing to work properly. I had to save him. Why couldn't I come up with the right spell? "I-I-I'm—" My throat tightened, refusing to allow anything past my lips but sobs. I wanted to scream.

"I'm sorry," I wanted to tell him. "I'm so sorry. Hold on. Everything is going to be alright. I'm going to help you. I'm going to heal you. Don't move. Just hold on. I just need to get my bearings and I will be able to heal you."

But the only thing leaving my lips other than "I-I-I'm-I-'m—" were loud ugly sobs, hitching breaths as I tried and failed to gulp in air.

The grasping fingers tightened around me. "-a-a-a th-th-thaisce-"

With the crackling of the fire behind and surrounding us, the words were temporarily lost to me. But they seemed to echo through the air and when that air rushed back around me…

"-w-wh-what?" I stared shocked down at the wounded man. My mind had to be playing tricks on me. "What did you just call me?"

His lips twitched up in a weak smile. The sight was terrifying. They were covered in blood, even more was dripping down his chin. "-a-a-a th-th-tha-thaisce."

"How do you—" I couldn't breathe. "Why do you call me that?" My heart ached, my lungs burned, and my head was spinning. The noise that was my own heartbeat drowned out everything. This was not happening. This could not be happening. "You shouldn't call me that. You don't remember. You shouldn't remember. You can't remember."

Carson let out a gurgled chuckle. The sound was going to haunt me for life, would star in every nightmare I would ever have from that moment on. A man trying to laugh while choking on his own blood. "You—you've always been my treasure. Al-always." I sobbed, just wanting it to end. To wake up from this nightmare. His bloody lips twitched in the weakest of smiles and his hand cupped my cheek, fingers brushing the skin and leaving something warm and sticky behind. "A thaisce. I'm-I'm so happy th-tha—I got to meet y-you—in th-the en-end. Th-the rea-real you."

I sobbed, catching the hand against my cheek as it slipped. "—Carson—" I realised too late that his other hand had moved as well, to the shadow sticking out of his chest. And with a cry, he ripped it out and threw it across the room. A smile – real and pure and full of relief – washed over his face and the light in his eyes dimmed. "CARSON!" My hands locked over the wound that was now gushing blood in steady pulses. "NO, NO, NO!" I screamed and cried. "HELP! SOMEONE HELP!" I wanted to shake him, order him to stop dying. "CARSON, DON'T YOU DARE! YOU'RE NOT LEAVING ME!"

But the light in his eyes flickered affectionally, like he whispered "a thaisce" one last time, and then disappeared, leaving empty and hallow shells.

My flame soared to life as a new haze settled over me, one similar to the red fury from earlier but so much more suffocating.

"I can't lose him. Not now. Not ever. I have so much questions. I need him. I need him more than I need air."

I poured everything I had into him, willing his heart to beat again, refusing to let his soul slip away, ordering his wounds to heal and the blood to return to his body.

The air around me pulsed, the fire roaring higher and inching closer. Sirens echoed faintly in the distance, voices calling out. But they were whispers. Background noise. The pulsing of my power and the beat of my own heart was all that mattered.

He had to life.

I could not lose him.

"Come back," I whispered. "Please. I love you. I need you. Come back. Don't leave. Not again."

Nothing I did seemed to work, yet I still pushed on. I wasn't stopping. Not until he took his own breath. Not until the light returned to his eyes, until he smiled at me and called me "a thaisce" once more.

Everything around me fell silent. It should have been a warning. It wasn't.

Black spots danced before my eyes, breathing became harder. Two more warnings. I pushed past them, refusing to give up.

I couldn't feel my limbs, my sight twisted and tilted and I swore I fell over, but my fingers did not let go of the suit jacket. I refused to give up.

He was coming back, even if that meant the death of me.

Darkness settled over my eyes, and my own heart slowed with each pulse of energy that moved from me into him. Until I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but hold onto the man who had been the only one during my life as Sybil Blackburn who had showed me any love. The man who was my father in every sense but the blood part. The only reason I hadn't turned out to be a cold-heartless bitch, an exact but empty copy of my mother.

He had saved me.

I needed to repay the favour.

In my final breath, I reached into the depth of my soul and called for help in the hope that they could pick up where I had left, that they could save him where I couldn't.

"—Stella—!"

Again, sorry for the not-so-small-this-time cliffhanger.

Few more things: my Tumblr account is .com

I've mentioned the Top2000 a few times in this story. Well, it's that time of the year again. If you want to see the opening from this year - it was really good - look up on YouTube "NPO Radio 2 Top 2000 sensationeel geopened door Bart Arena (2022)" There is some dutch music through it as well, but mostly English and it is bloody amazing. So check it out. (Look at me promoting things :o)

Happy holidays. Stay safe and healthy. And let me know what you thought of this chapter.