SARAPHINA’S POV

I stumbled backward, my legs hitting the edge of my bed. The figure by the balcony door stepped closer, and moonlight caught her face. My breath stopped completely.

It was her. My mother. Exactly like I remembered her from the portraits hidden in my grandfather's study. Wild red hair that matched mine, pale skin, and those same green eyes that stared back at me from the mirror every morning. But blood trickled from her nose just like mine, and her form flickered slightly ...