71. Kaia
When the academy guards arrive, summoned by the magical backlash of our battle, they take one look at my wings, at the visible shadows moving with clear purpose around me, and hesitate.
"Take him to the cells," Malrik commands, and something in his voice—something that sounds like generations of shadow realm authority—makes them snap to attention.
As they lead Darian away, his final whisper catches in the air: "I really did care, you know. That wasn't all a lie."
My wings draw close, not hiding me but supporting me. My sisters coil around me with gentle certainty, their touch cool and familiar. Bob pats my ankle with the awkward comfort of a warrior unused to gentleness. Patricia's frantic documentation now carries the weight of recording history. Even Finnick's chaotic movements have purpose—a soldier's readiness wrapped in levity.
"The board will want answers," Malrik says quietly. "About all of this."
"Let them ask." I watch Darian disappear into the depths of the academy. "I have nothing to hide anymore."
But as my wings settle against my back and my sisters swirl in perfect harmony, I can't help wondering: what else did Thorne take with him when he fled? And what plans was he so desperate to protect?
Looking at my shadows—at Bob's steady presence, Patricia's meticulous wisdom, at all of them who chose to become part of me—I know one thing for certain. Whatever comes next, we face it not as master and servants, not even as guardian and ward, but as what we truly are: family, bound by choice and sacrifice.
My wings might be new, but my real power has been here all along: in every sister who chose to bind their soul to mine, in every friend who chose to stand beside me. In all the different ways love becomes strength.
I am Valkyrie. And I am not alone.
I never was.
Everything feels different. The air buzzes against my skin like static, tiny sparks prickling along my arms and legs, and my shadows move with a fluid grace that feels almost alive, shifting around me like a second skin. The wings—my wings—a comforting warmth against my back, somehow both solid and ethereal, as if they exist between worlds, bound by light and shadow. They carry a weight of permanence yet feel weightless, every shift as effortless as a breeze moving through air. When I breathe, they shift with me, as natural as blinking and just as unconscious.
"You know," Finn says, his voice still shaky but trying for normal, "when I said you needed to spread your wings, this wasn't exactly what I meant."
I try to laugh, but it comes out strangled. My shadows curl around my ankles reassuringly. Bob actually pats my foot, which would be funny if I wasn't so overwhelmed.
Malrik hasn't stopped staring, his silver eyes following every movement of my wings as they shift and stretch behind me. There's something raw and unguarded in his gaze, a vulnerability I'm not used to seeing from him. He meets my eyes, his voice low and reverent. "Gods, you're beautiful."
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I fight the instinct to look away, unwilling to let the weight of his words undo me. Before I can respond, Malrik clears his throat, his composure snapping back into place. From behind us, I hear Finn's barely contained snicker, the sound breaking the tension just enough to ground me again.
Malrik's gaze flickers to the amethyst necklace glowing softly against my skin. "The Heart of Eternity," he says, his tone steadier now. "It wasn't just protecting you. It was preparing you."
"For what?" I ask, but before he can answer, an explosion rocks the arena. My wings flare instinctively, and I feel my feet leave the ground again. The sensation of hovering should terrify me, but it feels right, like remembering how to swim.
The arena doors burst inward. My heart stops when I see Aspen and Torric in the doorway, their expressions frozen in a mix of awe and disbelief. Torric’s jaw tightens, his usual confidence faltering as his gaze sweeps over me and my wings, while Aspen’s brows draw together, his hand gripping the doorway like it’s the only thing keeping him steady. Haloed by the light from my wings, they look as shaken as I feel. I've faced down Nightwraiths, discovered my heritage, and grown actual wings, but somehow this—facing the twins with my new reality—makes my throat close with fear.
What if they see me differently now? What if this is too much, too strange, too—
"Holy shit," Torric breathes, and the raw awe in his voice makes my wings flutter nervously.
Aspen just stares, his expression making my heart skip. My shadows stay coiled tight around me, protective while Mouse brushes against my leg, a solid reminder that not everything has changed.
Torric steps forward, his usual confident stride slightly hesitant. "If you think this changes anything," he starts, and my heart clenches until he finishes, "you're right. Now I definitely can't let you out of my sight." He gives me a crooked grin, the edge of humor softening the intensity in his voice.
The laugh that bursts out of me is half relief, half hysteria. Then Aspen moves closer, and something in his careful approach makes my wings fold closer to my back, not in fear but in a strange sort of shyness.
"Still you?" he asks quietly, holding out his hand. His blue eyes search mine, steady and unflinching, like he’s trying to anchor me to the moment.
I take it, and his fingers are warm and steady against mine. A tether to the ground when everything else feels like it might float away.
"Still me," I manage, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Just... with some upgrades."
Aspen squeezes my hand lightly, the smallest gesture, but it feels like he’s saying, I see you. I’m here.
"Upgrades," Torric snorts beside me, but I catch the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That's what we're calling divine transformation now?"
My wings shift, catching the light like stained glass. My shadows—brilliant and vivid—move with deliberate purpose around me. Bob stands at attention like a tiny general, Patricia frantically records every detail in shadow script, while Finnick darts around with exaggerated energy, testing the new balance of the group. I can't help but smile at their antics, the way they seem to reflect the new harmony settling in my chest.