FAZER LOGINDay three. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours. Every time I close my eyes, I see the bird. Disappearing. Dying. Because of me. The Reaper doesn't care about my guilt. Just grabs my hands. Just starts the power flow. Just continues the training like I didn't murder something innocent yesterday. "Today you learn resurrection." She announces. I freeze. "What?" "You can kill with death magic." She explains. "That's one side. But death has another side. The return. The reversal. The bringing back. Your father mastered this. That's how he came back. That's how he's been building his army. He resurrects the dead. Makes them serve him. Uses them as weapons. You need to learn the same. To counter him. To understand him. To match him." "I don't want to bring things back." I protest. "That's wrong. That's unnatural. That's—" "Necessary." She interrupts. "Your father will have an army of the dead. You need to be able to counter that. To reverse his resurrections. To send them back
Day two. My hands still have black traces in the veins. They didn't fully fade overnight. The Reaper doesn't comment on it. Just takes my hands again. Just starts the flow of power again. Just continues breaking me so I can be rebuilt. "Today you learn to direct death." She instructs. "Yesterday you learned to hold it. To let it in. To survive it. Today you learn to aim it. To release it. To kill with it." "I don't want to kill anything." I protest. "You will." She says flatly. "Your father won't hold back. Won't hesitate. Won't give you time to decide. You need to be able to kill on instinct. Without thinking. Without doubt. Or you die. And everyone else dies with you." The magic flows. Stronger than yesterday. Hotter. Colder. More. My mates watch from a safe distance. I made them promise to stay back. To not interfere. To let me train even if it looks bad. Now I regret that promise. "Feel the death inside you." The Reaper guides. "The power you absorbed yesterday. The
Death magic feels like drowning in ice water while your skin burns.The Reaper holds my hands. Her touch is cold. Empty. Final. And through that touch, power flows. Death power. The force that ends everything. The concept that takes life.And I'm learning to wield it."Feel it." The Reaper instructs. "Don't fight it. Don't fear it. Let it in. Let it change you. Let it make you what you need to be."I do. And it's horrible.My veins turn black. Visible through my skin. Like ink spreading through water. My eyes shift. I can see it in Kai's horrified expression. They're changing color. Going darker. Going wrong."Aurora." His voice is tight. Concerned. "Your eyes. They're...""Black." The Reaper finishes. "Like mine. Like death itself. It's normal. It's necessary. She's becoming death's vessel. Death's weapon. She has to look the part.""I don't like this." Damon growls. "She's changing too fast. Becoming something else.""She has to." The Reaper doesn't release my hands. Doesn't stop th
The Reaper returns at dawn. I haven't slept. None of us have. We've spent the night in the foundation, planning. Preparing. Panicking quietly."Training starts now." She announces. No greeting. No warmth. Just business. "You have three months to learn what death itself took eons to master. We begin immediately.""Who are we fighting?" Damon demands. Always the alpha. Always needing control. Always asking the questions that matter.The Reaper's smile turns cold. "Someone you know. Someone Aurora knows very well. Someone who died because of her. Someone who wants revenge so badly they're willing to destroy all of existence to get it."My stomach drops. "Who?""Your father."The words hit like a physical blow. I stagger backward. Kai catches me."That's impossible." I breathe. "My father died when I was five. He's been dead for twenty years. He can't—""He didn't just die, Aurora." The Reaper interrupts. "He was murdered. By your uncle Marcus. And in his final moments, he made a deal. A
They're staring at me like I'm a ghost. Like I'm impossible. Like I'm everything they lost wearing skin they don't recognize. Maybe I am. "The memorial wall is this way." Damon gestures. Voice careful. Like I might break. Like I might disappear. Like I might stop being whatever they think I am. I follow. Because the dreams won't stop. Because the memories that aren't mine won't fade. Because these four strangers feel like home and I need to understand why. The wall is black marble. Names etched in gold. Aurora Sinclair at the top. Largest. Most prominent. Most honored. "She's why we built this." Kai explains. "She suffered invisibly for years. For us. She died so we could live. This foundation is her legacy. Her memorial. Her eternal impact." I reach toward the wall. Toward her name. Toward Aurora. My fingers touch the cold marble. Everything explodes. Memories. Thousands of them. Flooding. Drowning. Destroying me. Building me. Breaking me. Making me. I see myself d
The ribbon stretches across the entrance. Red. Like blood. Like life. Like Aurora. I hold the scissors. All my voices quiet. United. Focused on this single moment. The Aurora Foundation opens today. Three months of building. Three months of grief disguised as construction. Three months of making her death mean something. The crowd watches. Press. Donors. Survivors of invisible pain. People who need what we're offering. People who suffered like Aurora. Silently. Invisibly. Alone. "On behalf of my mates and myself," I begin. My voices steady. Controlled. "We open the Aurora Foundation. A place for those who suffer what others cannot see. For those who endure what others will not believe. For those who sacrifice in silence. Like Aurora did. Every day. For two thousand days." The crowd applauds. I cut the ribbon. It falls. The doors open. People enter. Crying. Grateful. Finally seen. Finally heard. Finally helped. But something's wrong. The air shifts. Temperature drops. Realit







