---

POV: Nareth Sol

The mirror screamed.

Not with sound, but with light — harsh, white, blinding. Nareth threw an arm around Lucian, trying to drag him away, but the pull was relentless. It felt like gravity itself had shifted, like the glass had become a mouth swallowing everything that dared stand too close.

“Lucian, stay with me!” he shouted.

Lucian’s fingers slipped against his arm, his eyes wide with terror. “I can’t—Nareth, it’s pulling me—!”

“Not again,” Nareth hissed. “I’m not losing you again—”

The mirror cracked, splintering like ice under pressure. Each fracture shone with something alive, something angry. Shadows spilled out of it — the same voice whispering from every direction, taunting him.

He isn’t yours. He never was.

Nareth braced himself between Lucian and the mirror, ignoring the burning on his skin. The air was electric, filled with that awful hum, and then—

A hand grabbed Nareth’s shoulder, yanking both of them backward with brute strength.

“Get down!”

The familiar voice snapped through the chaos.

Daelen.

He moved like a storm — steady, deliberate — his eyes hard with fury. Without hesitation, he slammed a steel rod straight into the mirror’s center. The sound was deafening. Shards exploded outward, light bursting in every direction.

Lucian fell against Nareth’s chest, trembling, as the reflection shattered into nothing.

And then, silence.

Smoke. Dust.

No more whispering. No more pull.

Just breathing — ragged, human, real.

---

POV: Lucian Mareis

He could still feel the heat of Daelen’s grip on his arm, grounding him. The air smelled like burnt metal and rain.

“Is it… over?” Lucian asked, voice barely a whisper.

Daelen exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “If it’s not, I’ll smash every damn mirror in this place until it is.”

Nareth gave a shaky laugh, half relief, half disbelief. “You idiot. You could’ve been—”

“Dead?” Daelen smirked faintly. “Wouldn’t be the first time I pissed death off.”

Lucian looked up at him, eyes softening. “Thank you.”

Daelen waved him off, though his jaw tightened. “You two have enough chaos. I’m just cleaning up the mess.”

But as Lucian watched him turn away, he saw the flicker of worry hidden under that sharp, cocky exterior.

Daelen Pryce didn’t just save them. He’d protected them — and maybe, for the first time, not out of pride, but out of something deeper.

---

POV: Nareth Sol

When the last of the smoke cleared, Nareth pulled Lucian closer, pressing his forehead against his. “It’s done. You’re safe now.”

Lucian’s breath hitched. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Nareth smiled faintly. “No more mirrors. No more nightmares.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Lucian believed him.

Outside, the sky cracked open — sunlight breaking through after days of rain.

It felt like a promise.