The journey to Veilhaven was a descent into memory.
We traveled under the waning Blood Moon, its silver light painting the Scottish Highlands in ghostly hues, the mist curling around ancient stone circles like spectral fingers. The land here was older than the Citadel, older than the Blood Pact Archives, older than the lies that had shaped my life. It breathed with the pulse of the Fae—wild, untamed, humming with forgotten oaths and broken promises. Every step I took on the damp earth felt like a betrayal. Every breath I drew tasted of guilt.
I hadn’t spoken to Maeve since the Archives. Not a word. Not a whisper. After she’d thrown the scroll into the chute, after Kael had her pinned to the wall, after I’d seen the Unseelie mark beneath her skin—she’d looked at me. Not with defiance. Not with malice. With *sorrow*. As if she were already mourning me.
And now, I was going to her.
Not to forgive.
Not to reconcile.
But to *use* her.
Kael walked beside me, his presence a shadow at my back, his silence heavier than any words. He hadn’t argued when I’d said I needed to go. Hadn’t tried to stop me. Just nodded, his gold eyes burning with something I couldn’t name—fear, maybe. Or understanding. He knew what I was about to do. Knew that to reach my mother, to pull her from the ritual void, I’d have to make a bargain. And bargains with the Fae always came at a cost.
“She’ll try to protect you,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the mist. “Even now. Even after everything.”
“I don’t want her protection,” I said, not looking at him. “I want her truth.”
“And if the truth demands a price you’re not ready to pay?”
My breath caught.
Because I already knew the answer.
“Then I’ll pay it,” I said. “Whatever it is.”
He didn’t respond. Just reached for my hand—just for a second—his fingers brushing mine, warm, grounding. The bond flared, a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath my feet. My magic rose, not in anger, not in defense, but in *recognition*. As if my power knew what my mind refused to admit.
That I wasn’t just fighting for my mother.
I was fighting for *us*.
And that thought—
That thought was more dangerous than any blade.
We reached Veilhaven as dawn broke over the moors, the mist parting like a veil to reveal a crumbling manor house, its stone walls draped in ivy, its windows dark. This had been my childhood home. The place where Maeve had raised me after my mother’s “death.” Where she’d taught me the old rituals. Where she’d hidden my half-fae blood, warning me never to trust the Council, never to reveal my true name.
And now?
Now, it felt like a tomb.
The front door opened before we reached it. Maeve stood in the threshold, her silver hair pulled back, her eyes sharp with fear. She wore a long, flowing robe of deep blue, the color of twilight, the sigil of the Seelie Court embroidered over her heart. But beneath it—faint, hidden, but *there*—I could see the mark. The sigil of the Unseelie. A leash. A curse. A chain.
“Opal,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You came.”
“I didn’t come for you,” I said, stepping past her. “I came for my mother.”
She flinched, but didn’t argue. Just closed the door behind us, sealing us in silence. The air inside was thick with the scent of old parchment, dried herbs, and something darker—fear. The walls were lined with shelves of ritual tools, vials of preserved magic, and ancient tomes bound in leather. A scrying pool sat in the center of the room, its surface still, its moonstone glowing faintly.
“You want to enter the ritual void,” she said, her voice low. “To rescue her.”
“Yes,” I said, turning to face her. “And you’re going to help me.”
She didn’t answer. Just walked to the scrying pool, her hands trembling as she lit the candles around it. The flames burned blue, casting long shadows on the walls. “The ritual void is not a place,” she said. “It’s a *state*. A prison between worlds. To enter it, you must make a bargain. And the Fae High Court demands payment.”
“What kind of payment?” Kael asked, stepping forward.
Maeve didn’t look at him. Just kept her eyes on me. “A memory. A piece of your soul. Something you cannot live without.”
My breath stilled.
“And if I refuse?” I asked.
“Then you cannot enter,” she said. “And she will remain trapped. Forever.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Then I’ll pay it,” I said. “Whatever it takes.”
She flinched. “You don’t know what you’re saying. The memory they take—it’s not just any memory. It’s the one that defines you. The one that shaped you. The one that made you *you*.”
“And if I lose it?” I asked.
“Then you’ll still be Opal,” she said. “But you won’t be *whole*.”
My breath caught.
Because I already knew which memory they’d take.
The last time I’d seen my mother.
Before the ritual. Before the lie. Before the hate.
She’d kissed my forehead, her silver-blue eyes filled with love. “Be strong, my daughter,” she’d whispered. “No matter what they tell you. No matter what you believe. I am with you. Always.”
And then she was gone.
And I’d spent thirteen years hating the man I thought had killed her.
And now?
Now, I was ready to give up the last proof that she’d loved me.
“Do it,” I said, stepping toward the scrying pool. “I’m ready.”
“No,” Kael said, grabbing my wrist. His grip was tight, desperate. “You don’t have to do this. There’s another way. We’ll find it.”
“There *is* no other way,” I said, pulling free. “And you know it.”
He didn’t argue. Just stared at me, his gold eyes burning. “Then let me go in your place.”
My breath caught.
“You can’t,” Maeve said, stepping between us. “The ritual demands a blood relative. A daughter. A mother. A bond of blood and magic. You cannot take her place, Kael. Not even with the Blood Moon Bond.”
He didn’t flinch. Just kept his eyes on me. “Then I’ll go with you. Into the void. I’ll fight for her. I’ll bring her back.”
“And if you die?” I asked, my voice breaking. “If the void consumes you? What then?”
“Then I die knowing I tried,” he said, stepping closer. “Knowing I fought for you. For her. For the truth.”
My breath hitched.
He wasn’t just saying it to control me.
He *meant* it.
And that—
That was more dangerous than any lie.
Maeve stepped back, her hands trembling. “The ritual begins at moonrise. Until then, prepare. Meditate. Clear your mind. The Fae High Court will judge your worth. And if they deem you worthy—”
“Then I’ll pay the price,” I said, turning to her. “And I’ll bring her back.”
She didn’t answer. Just lowered her head, her shoulders trembling.
And I knew—
She wasn’t just afraid for me.
She was afraid *of* me.
Because I wasn’t the girl she’d raised.
I was something else.
Something stronger.
Something that could burn the world to get what I wanted.
The hours passed like shadows.
I sat by the scrying pool, my hands resting on the cool stone, my mind racing. Kael sat beside me, his presence a wall against the cold, his silence heavier than any words. He didn’t try to comfort me. Didn’t try to distract me. Just stayed. Watched. Waited.
And then—
The moon rose.
Silver light poured through the windows, flooding the room, illuminating the scrying pool. The moonstone flared, its light pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Maeve stepped forward, her hands trembling as she lit the final candle. The flames burned white, casting no shadows.
“It’s time,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
I stood, my legs unsteady, my breath coming fast. Kael reached for me—just for a second—his fingers brushing mine, warm, grounding. The bond flared, a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath my feet.
“I’ll be here,” he said. “When you come back. I’ll be here.”
My breath caught.
Because I didn’t know if I *would* come back.
“Then wait,” I said, stepping toward the pool. “And don’t look away.”
Maeve raised her hands, her voice chanting in a language older than blood. The air thickened. The magic built. The scrying pool rippled—not from the wind, not from my breath—but from *within*.
And then—
I stepped in.
The world dissolved.
Not into darkness.
Not into light.
But into *nothing*.
I was falling. Floating. Unmoored. The ritual void was not a place. It was an absence. A silence. A wound in reality. And in that silence—
I heard her.
“Opal.”
Soft. Familiar. Laced with sorrow.
“You came.”
“Mother,” I whispered, my voice echoing in the void. “I’m here. I’m going to get you out.”
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “It’s too dangerous. The Fae High Court will take something from you. Something you cannot live without.”
“I know,” I said. “And I don’t care.”
“But I do,” she said. “Because if you lose yourself, I lose you. And I’ve already lost too much.”
My breath caught.
“Then let me save you,” I said. “Let me bring you back.”
And then—
The Fae High Court appeared.
Not as figures. Not as faces.
As *presence*.
They filled the void—tall, ageless, their eyes like shards of ice, their voices like wind through dead leaves. They did not speak. They did not move. They simply *were*.
And they judged me.
“You seek to enter the void,” they said, their voices echoing as one. “To reclaim what was taken. To break the chains of fate. But the balance must be kept. A memory must be given. A piece of your soul. Will you pay the price?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I will.”
“Then speak the memory,” they said. “The one you are willing to lose.”
I closed my eyes.
And I spoke.
“The last time I saw my mother, she kissed my forehead. She told me to be strong. She told me she was with me. Always. And then she was gone. That memory—her voice, her touch, her love—is the one I give.”
The void trembled.
And then—
It was gone.
Not the memory.
Not the pain.
But the *weight* of it.
As if a chain had been lifted. As if a burden had been released.
And I knew—
I had paid the price.
“The bargain is sealed,” the Fae High Court said. “You may enter. But you have one hour. One hour to find her. One hour to bring her back. If you fail, you will both remain in the void. Forever.”
And then—
I was falling.
Not through nothing.
But through *everything*.
Memories. Dreams. Regrets. The scent of my mother’s hair. The sound of Kael’s voice. The feel of his hand in mine. The bond—oh, the bond—was flaring, a thread of fire in the dark, guiding me, pulling me, *calling* me.
And then—
I saw her.
Trapped in a cage of light, her silver-blue eyes filled with sorrow. “Opal,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“I had to,” I said, reaching for her. “I’m getting you out.”
“The Fae demanded a price,” she said. “What did you give?”
“The last time I saw you,” I said. “Your kiss. Your words. Your love.”
She didn’t cry.
Just smiled.
And in that smile—
I saw the truth.
That I had not lost her.
Because love was not in memory.
It was in the bond.
And the bond was still mine.
“Then let’s go home,” I said, reaching through the cage.
And as our fingers touched—
The void screamed.
The light shattered.
And we were falling again.
Back to the world.
Back to the fight.
Back to the truth.
I woke in Kael’s arms, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my body trembling. The scrying pool was still. The moonstone dimmed. Maeve stood over us, her face pale, her hands trembling.
“You did it,” she whispered. “You brought her back.”
But I didn’t answer.
Just buried my face in Kael’s coat, my breath trembling, my heart breaking.
Because I’d just done the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do.
I’d given up the last proof that my mother had loved me.
And yet—
As I lay there, his arms locked around me, his heartbeat syncing with mine—
I didn’t feel empty.
I felt *free*.
“I’m going in,” I said, lifting my head. “And I might not come back.”
He didn’t let go.
Just pulled me closer.
And in that moment—
I knew.
The game had changed.
Because now, it wasn’t just about revenge.
It wasn’t just about the bond.
It was about *truth*.
And I would burn the world to get it.
But as I walked beside Kael, his hand brushing mine, his presence a shadow at my back—
I couldn’t shake the feeling that the real danger wasn’t out there in the frozen wilds.
It was standing right beside me.
And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill him anymore.
Or keep him.