Chapter 9
Kaia
I wake up and nothing is trying to kill me.
That’s… new.
No nightmare clawing its way up my throat. No bond screaming danger. No shadows bristling against threats I can’t see yet.
No shadows…
I breathe deep.
Just warmth. Quiet. The soft crackle of fire and six bonds humming so low in my chest I almost mistake it for my own heartbeat.
Mouse is curled at my feet. Walter bobs near the ceiling, pulsing lazy violet.
I don’t move.
I just… lie here. Like a person. Like someone who’s allowed to exist without running.
When was the last time I did that?
The furs smell like Kieran. Smoke and pine and something old that I’ve stopped trying to put words to. I press my face into them like an idiot, and nobody’s here to see it, so I let myself have this one stupid moment.
Three days. Give or take.
Three days of actual sleep. My body feels strange. Lighter. Like something that was wound too tight finally snapped loose.
Mouse lifts his head. Stares at me with those ancient eyes that have seen too much and judge accordingly.
Ready?
“Don’t rush me,” I mutter. “I just woke up.”
His tail flicks. Judgment.
“Fine.” I sit up. My spine cracks in three places. Rude. “I’m ready.”
I find them on the other side of the cavern doing a terrible job of pretending they weren’t waiting.
Kieran’s sharpening a blade he doesn’t need.
Malrik and Aspen are arguing over a supply list that has maybe three items on it — none of which they agree on.
Finn’s eating something that’s going to make him sick.
Darian’s holding a map upside down. Torric’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching the doorway like—
Like he was waiting for me.
They all look up.
The bond hums. Warm. Steady. Annoying. Like someone stuffing comfort into my chest when I’m not ready for it.
Kieran stands. “You slept.”
“Apparently.” I stretch. Things pop. “How long was I out?”
“Three days,” Finn says around a mouthful of whatever he’s destroying. “We rounded up. You looked peaceful and none of us wanted to be the asshole who ruined it.”
Malrik elbows him.
“What? It’s true.”
I laugh. It comes out rusty. Weird. Like my throat forgot how.
Then I take a breath. My chest tightens. My throat follows.
Complicated.
“It’s time to go.”
Silence.
Not the bad kind. Not the Kaia’s about to do something stupid kind. Just… agreement. Like they were waiting for me to say it first.
Kieran nods. “Where?”
The question hits different now. Not where’s the threat or what’s hunting us. Just… where do I want to be?
My first real choice.
“The southern coast. The beach with the white sand and purple starfish that come near shore.” I look at Kieran. “Where my mother used to take me.”
Something shifts in his face. Soft. Aching. Old.
“I want to see it,” I say. “I want to make new memories there. With—” I gesture vaguely at all of them. “You know. Everyone.”
Smooth, Kaia. Very articulate.
Darian sets down his upside-down map. “I’ve never actually been to a beach.”
Finn chokes. “Never?”
“The Light Faction wasn’t known for leisure activities.”
“That’s genuinely tragic. That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard today, and Kieran admitted he hasn’t kissed anyone in centuries.”
“I kissed Kaia three days ago.”
“At a beach?”
“We’ve discussed this.”
“Then it doesn’t count!”
I snort. Can’t help it.
Aspen, ever practical: “I can build seating. Chairs. Some kind of shade structure.”
“I’m bringing alcohol,” Finn announces. “Non-negotiable.”
“Where are you getting alcohol?” Malrik asks.
“I’ll figure it out. I’m resourceful.”
“You’re a disaster.”
“A resourceful disaster. There’s a difference.”
Mouse winds between my ankles. Walter pulses warm overhead.
I look at them. These idiots. My idiots.
“The beach,” I say. Certain. “Let’s go.”
We’re gathering supplies — what little there is — when the air changes.
Something warm at my back. A glow I can feel before I see.
I turn.
The blank hall.
The one that’s been nothing but stone and wood since we got here.
It’s lighting up.
Golden threads weaving across the surface. Images forming. Moving.
“Kieran.” My voice comes out weird. “What the hell is—”
He’s beside me. His hand finds mine before I can pull away.
“Let’s go see,” he says quietly. “Whatever it is, it’s for those who come after.”
We all file in as the images keep forming.
And I realize what I’m looking at.
Us.
A little girl under a tree.
Golden hair. Shadows pooling around her like they’re already hers. A small cat curled in her lap.
She’s terrified. Crying. Lost. Nothing but a necklace and shadows in a world she doesn’t know.
My chest cracks.
Because I remember this. The moment. The feeling.
“That’s me,” I whisper. “I was…”
The image shifts before I can finish.
The academy. Sharp and imposing against a gray sky.
A girl walks toward the gates. Shoulders tight. Trying to look like she’s not terrified.
And on the roof — a figure with wild hair throws himself off the edge. Chaos magic sparking as he falls.
I choke on something between a laugh and a sob. “Finn.”
“In my defense,” he says behind me, “I stuck the landing.”
“You almost broke your ankle.”
“I stuck the emotional landing. You noticed me.”
“I thought you were insane.”
“Same thing.”
An arena.
Three figures against a man. Another behind him, Thorne. Nightwraiths attacking.
And in the center — me. Terrified. Magic ripping out of me without permission.
Wings erupt from my back. Dark and light. Massive.
The first time.
Malrik inhales sharply. “I remember that.”
“We all do,” Darian says. Quiet.
I remember too. The fear. The power. The moment everything changed.
A doorway made of light.
Absentia on the other side. Beautiful and broken and impossible.
We step through together.
Monsters. Teeth. Things that shouldn’t exist outside nightmares.
Torric and Aspen finding their berserker forms for the first time.
And then — fire. A dragon descending. Golden eyes blazing.
Kieran. Coming to rescue me.
“You came out of nowhere,” I murmur.
His hand tightens on mine. “I was always there.”
“Voyeur,” Finn coughs.
“I will end you.”
A library. Light through the windows.
Aspen. Ice-blue eyes. Frost on his fingertips.
The first time the bond felt gentle instead of violent.
I feel him step closer. Cool presence at my back.
A lake. Steam rising.
Malrik. Silver eyes. Kissing me like drowning. Like air.
I don’t look at him. Don’t need to. The bond says enough.
A village. Fire in a hearth.
Torric. Finally touching me without holding back.
My chest does something stupid.
Even my shadows lined up on the headboard.
Japti. The same sacred space.
Finn. All that chaos settling into something real.
A cave. Darkness.
Darian kneeling at my feet.
Broken. Trying. Earning it inch by inch.
The Gate.
Light pouring through. The God emerging. Alekir’s end.
Me at the center. Wings spread. The Eds.
Bob’s salute.
Patricia’s notebook.
Finnick’s bow.
Linda’s final touch.
Walking into the light.
Going home.
My eyes burn. I blink hard. Don’t cry. Don’t—
Shit.
The image shifts one last time.
Us. Right now. Right here.
Standing in the hall. Six men behind one woman. Shadows at her feet.
And in the image — the painted version of this exact moment — I’m holding something.
A journal.
My breath stops.
I reach into my pack before I fully decide to. Fingers finding leather.
Warm. It’s always warm.
I pull it out.
The wall glows brighter. The image solidifies. Me. The journal. The final frame.
“Open it,” Kieran says.
My hands are shaking. That’s annoying.
I open it anyway.
Patricia’s handwriting. Neat. Precise. I’d know it anywhere.
But this isn’t notes. Isn’t records.
A title.
Shadows of Change
By Patricia for my Kaia
I can’t breathe.
The next page.
The end is only where we choose to rest. And Kaia? You have so much left to live.
The sob rips out of me. Ugly. Loud. Helpless.
My knees buckle.
Arms catch me. Warm hands. Familiar scents. The weight of six bonds anchoring me in place. Kieran at my back. Finn at my side. Hands everywhere. Holding me up.
“She wrote it,” I manage. “She knew she was leaving and she still—”
“She loved you.” Kieran’s voice cracks. “They all did.”
I press the journal to my chest. Leather and ink and something that still smells like her.
For my Kaia.
Mine.
The tears stop eventually.
Everything stops eventually.
Mouse has climbed into my lap. Walter pulses soft violet like a second heartbeat.
Six men still touching me. Still here.
I look at the wall.
Our story in light. Beginning to now.
Not an ending. Just a place to breathe.
I close the journal. Tuck it against my chest where it’s going to live from now on.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Kieran’s hand finds mine. “Wherever you want.”
I look once more at the wall. At the image of us — broken and rebuilt and somehow still standing.
Then I turn toward the door.
Mouse at my side, Walter above.
My men fall into step around me.
And I know that I’ll never be alone again.
THE END…