Chapter 113

Mira’s POV

I sat there, facing this cloaked weirdo, flame flickering between us, making everything look haunted and blue.

“You’ve come far, Alpha’s daughter,” it said. The voice? Impossible to place, could’ve been anyone, really. “Tell me. What is it you want?”

No point dancing around. “Power.”

It cocked its head curiously. “You already had that. Armies. Fear. Big deal.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want their fear anymore.” My words snapped out, sharp as a whip. “I want control. I want to break them in ways a blade never could.”

Silence. Then this dry, scratchy laugh. “And what would you give?”

“Whatever it takes.”

The hood twitched and for a split second, I caught a glimpse of skin like swirling smoke, eyes glistening like spilled oil. Ancient isn’t even the word... this thing made time feel like a joke.

“You hate them,” it said, almost gentle. “The Alpha who shattered you. The woman who stole what you thought was yours.”

“Don’t say her name.”

“Elora,” it purred, to spite me.

My jaw locked tight. Acid in my mouth. “She thinks she’s saved him. She thinks she’s won. But love’s just a leash. I’m going to make sure it chokes her.”

It laughed again, low and chilling. “You sound like someone who’s already danced with shadows.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I have. Maybe I never left them.”

The blue fire twisted higher, like it was getting ideas. “Power like this has a price. Always does.”

“I’m not scared of prices.”

“You should be. This isn’t the strength that wins battles or terrifies wolves. This stains you. Rots anything you care about.”

I leaned in, eyes steady. “There’s nothing left to rot.”

It stared at me. Quiet. Then stretched out its hand across the flame, fingers all thin and rooty, black veins crawling up, hungry for something.

“Then take it.”

The flame flared up as I reached out. The heat from the flames hit me but I didn't pull back. When our hands met, pain exploded through my arm. I gasped, bit my lips so hard I tasted blood.

“Good,” it whispered. “Let it in.”

My body shook, but I held on. I could feel the darkness now, slithering into every inch of me, whispering sweet nothings about destruction and chaos and living forever.

When it finally let go, I almost fell back. My arm is throbbing like a second heartbeat.

“What did you do to me?” I asked, eyes wide.

It grinned... or I think it did. “Gave you what you asked for. A living curse. Yours alone. With a thought, you corrupt. With a touch, you can unmake.”

I made a fish with my palms. Shadows rippled under my skin, restless and almost like they were purring, hungry for the world outside.

“How long’s this supposed to stick around?” I muttered.

“As long as you keep hating,” it answered, voice like gravel and midnight.

That pulled a grin out of me, slow and sharp. “Guess that means forever, then.”

Its voice dropped, all ominous and close. “So, what now?”

“Oh, I’ll go back,” I said. “But not with armies, not with blood and banners. They’re waiting for a war. Let them polish their swords.”

“What’ll you bring, then?”

I stared at my hand. Black veins flickered, a lightning show under my skin. “Something nastier.”

It tipped its head, that weird, knowing tilt. “Curses mess with balance. You hit one, the pain bounces around. Bonds snap. Everything breaks.”

I shrugged, no argument there. “Sounds just right.”

“You might ruin yourself, too.”

I stared at it. “Maybe that’s the whole idea.”

It laughed ugly, hollow, and old as dirt. “Run along, Mira Vale. Let your vengeance eat you alive.”

The blue fire blinked out, and the dark rolled in, thick as tar.

Outside, the night slapped me with cold. The stars looked half-dead, the sky washed out, drained. That weird pulse still buzzed in my bones, shadows muttering secrets under my skin.

Now there were voices in my head, too. Elora’s giggle. Dante’s rumble. Dominic barking orders. All mixed together, stabbing at me from the inside.

I grinned, teeth bare, straight into the dark.

“They thought I was finished,” I breathed. “They think I’m coming back for a fight.”

The wind rustled the trees like it wanted to warn me. Whatever. I let it talk.

“If I can’t rule their world,” I said, holding my hand up to the moon, “then I’ll ruin it.”

The shadows held tighter, like they were swearing right along with me.

And maybe I imagined it, or maybe not, but way up high, I swear the moon shivered.

Elora's pov

Couldn’t shake it. Even after the war ended, after Mira just… slipped away into the fog, something inside me kept kicking, restless. Like my insides just wouldn’t let me move on.

I started with this itch, nothing big at first. You know that weird feeling under your skin, like your body knows something your brain’s too slow to catch up to?

Dante picked up on it before I even said a word. “You’ve been off,” he said one night, staring at me over steamed-up glasses. He always notices, annoyingly.

“I’m fine,” I threw back, way too fast.

He just looked at me. “You’re not. You’re not eating, you don’t sleep. You’re a ghost yourself lately.”

I couldn’t lie anymore. I dug my nails right into the wood. “Every time I shut my eyes, she’s there. Like she’s standing right behind me, breathing on my neck.”

His whole face twisted up. “You think Mira...”

“I don’t know what I think!” The words came out sharp. “She’s gone. We all saw it. But it’s like she’s still in my head, walking around in my dreams.”

He got up, walked over. Close enough to steady me, or maybe himself. “Dreams don’t bite, Elora.”