Mira's POV
Marcus Thorne's power hits like a hammer.
I'm thrown backward, crashing into the wall so hard my vision goes black for a second. When I can see again, Kael and Leo are on the ground, bleeding. Rowan's wooden arms crack as she tries to shield us, but Marcus's magic is too strong.
He walks toward me slowly, like he has all the time in the world. Up close, he's even more terrifying. His suit is perfect. His smile is friendly. But his eyes are dead—like looking into an empty grave.
"Such potential," he says, studying me like I'm a bug under glass. "Your mother had power, but you—you're magnificent."
"Stay away from me!" I scramble backward, but there's nowhere to go.
He laughs. It's a warm sound that makes my skin crawl. "I'm not going to hurt you, child. I'm going to help you reach your full potential. Unlock abilities your parents never dreamed of." He extends his hand. "Come with me willingly, and your friends live. Fight, and I kill them all in front of you."
"Don't listen to him!" Kael gasps from the floor. "He's lying. He'll kill them anyway."
Marcus's smile doesn't waver. "Perhaps. But if you cooperate, Mira, at least they'll die quickly. Painlessly." His hand inches closer. "Choose."
My whole body shakes. I don't want to go with him. Every instinct screams danger. But I can't let him kill Leo and Rowan. They've protected me my whole life.
And Kael—the Huntsman who saved me when he should've killed me.
I reach for Marcus's hand.
"STOP!"
The voice comes from the doorway. A voice I've heard every single day for eighteen years. A voice that told me I was worthless, that I should be grateful, that I was nothing special.
Aunt Vivian stands there, breathing hard like she ran all the way home.
Relief crashes through me. "Aunt Vivian! Help! This man—"
Then I see her face.
Really see it.
It's shifting. Melting. The features I've known my whole life ripple like water, and underneath—underneath is someone else entirely.
Someone beautiful and cruel with sharp cheekbones and eyes that glow like a cat's. Her hair turns from brown to midnight black. Her whole body changes, becoming taller, stronger, more dangerous.
"Well, well," she says in a voice that's similar to my aunt's but wrong somehow. Sharper. Colder. "Eighteen years of playing the poor, selfless aunt. Eighteen years of living in that tiny apartment, cooking terrible food, pretending to struggle." She laughs, and it sounds nothing like my aunt's laugh. "Do you know how boring you were, child? How utterly tedious?"
My mouth won't work. My brain can't process what I'm seeing.
"No," I finally whisper. "No, you're not—you can't be—"
"Your aunt?" The stranger wearing Aunt Vivian's clothes smiles with too many teeth. "Oh, sweetheart. Your real aunt has been dead for eighteen years. I killed her the same night I helped kill your parents."
The words punch through me like a knife.
"You're lying," I breathe, but I know she's not. Deep down, I know.
"My name is Morgana," she continues, walking into the room like she owns it. "Shapeshifter. Marcus's most loyal servant." She glances at him with something that looks like love. "And the woman who's been watching you every single day, waiting for this exact moment."
Every memory flashes through my mind. Every time she yelled at me. Every time she made me feel small and worthless. Every time she told me to stop dreaming, stop hoping, stop wanting more.
It was all fake. All of it.
"You—" My voice cracks. "You were never my aunt. Never my family."
"No." For just a second, something flickers in her eyes. Something that might be regret. "But I did keep you alive. I could have killed you as a baby, you know. Marcus wanted me to. But I convinced him you'd be more useful alive." She tilts her head. "I even grew... fond of you. In my own way."
"Fond?" The word tastes like poison. "You made my life miserable!"
"I kept you humble. Kept you from drawing attention. Kept you safe." Morgana's voice hardens. "You have no idea how many supernatural beings wanted you dead, child. How many times I had to kill hunters who got too close. I protected you."
"You're a liar!" Tears stream down my face. "You killed my real aunt! You helped murder my parents!"
"Yes." She says it so simply, like it's nothing. "Your parents were going to expose Marcus. They discovered what he was doing—stealing power from other magical beings to make himself immortal. They had to die." She shrugs. "Your aunt was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
The casual way she admits murder makes me sick.
Marcus claps slowly. "Excellent timing, my dear. Now, shall we—"
"Wait." Morgana holds up a hand. "I want something first."
"We agreed on your payment," Marcus says, his voice cooling.
"I want something more." Morgana looks at me, and her expression twists into something complicated. "I want her to know the truth. All of it."
"That's unnecessary—"
"I WANT HER TO KNOW!" Morgana's shout echoes through the destroyed apartment. For the first time, she looks almost human. Almost hurt. "Eighteen years, Marcus. Eighteen years I raised her. Changed her diapers. Made her breakfast. Listened to her talk about her stupid plants. I earned the right to tell her the truth."
Marcus sighs like she's being difficult. "Fine. Tell her. Then we leave."
Morgana turns to me. "Your parents didn't die in a car accident. They died because they tried to stop Marcus from becoming a god. They used their Memory Weaver abilities to lock away his stolen powers, seal them in a place he couldn't reach." She pauses. "That place was you."
My blood goes cold. "What?"
"Your parents put Marcus's stolen powers inside you before they died. That's why he wants you so badly. Not just because you're a Memory Weaver." She smiles sadly. "Because you're also the key to making him immortal. All he has to do is kill you and take his power back."
The room spins. I can't breathe.
"All this time," I whisper. "You raised me just so he could kill me?"
"Yes." Morgana's voice cracks. "I'm sorry, little one. I truly am. But I love Marcus more than I could ever love you."
She steps aside, clearing the path between me and Marcus.
He smiles and raises his hand. Dark energy crackles around his fingers.
"Thank you for keeping her safe, my love," he says to Morgana. "Now let's finish what we started eighteen years ago."
Kael tries to stand, but Marcus's power slams him back down. Leo roars and charges, but magical chains wrap around him, dragging him to the floor. Rowan's wooden limbs splinter as she struggles against invisible bonds.
I'm alone.
Defenseless.
And the man who murdered my parents is walking toward me with death in his hands.
Then my chest starts to burn.
Not pain. Something else. Something waking up inside me that's been sleeping for eighteen years.
Power. Not my power.
Marcus's stolen power, locked inside me all this time.
And it's answering his call.
"No," I gasp as silver and black light pours from my skin. "No, stop!"
But it won't stop. The power rips out of me in waves, flowing toward Marcus like a river returning to the sea. I can feel it leaving, feel myself getting weaker with every second.
Marcus's eyes glow with triumph. "Finally. Finally, I'm whole again."
He's going to take his power back.
And when he does, I'll be nothing but an empty shell.
I'll die just like my parents.
"Mira!" Kael screams my name, fighting against the magic holding him down. "Fight it! Don't let him take it!"
But I don't know how to fight. I don't know anything.
The power keeps pouring out of me, and Marcus keeps smiling, and I'm so tired, so scared, so alone—
That's when I hear it.
A voice. Soft and familiar and impossible.
My mother's voice, coming from somewhere deep inside the power itself.
Remember who you are, little spark. You are not just a vessel. You are a Memory Weaver. And memories can be rewritten.
The world stops.
Marcus's stolen power isn't just energy. It's made of memories—the memories of everyone he stole from, trapped inside the magic for eighteen years.
And I can touch memories.
I can change them.
I reach into the flowing power with my mind, and suddenly I'm seeing everything. Every person Marcus killed. Every ability he stole. Every life he destroyed to make himself powerful.
Hundreds of them. Thousands.
And they're all screaming for freedom.
"What are you doing?" Marcus's smile falters. "Stop. Stop it right now!"
But I can't stop. Won't stop.
I grab hold of every stolen memory, every trapped soul, and I whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you've been trapped for so long. But I can set you free."
The power explodes.
Not toward Marcus.
Away from him.
Back to where it belongs.