Chapter 19 Carla
CARLA
Out of all my children, you are the most formidable.
The voice reverberates through me, inescapable and total. It’s everywhere and nowhere, inside me and outside me, gentle yet powerful enough to unmake reality itself. The white void pulses with each word, responding to the entity that created everything I know.
“How so?” My voice sounds small in this vast white expanse.
It is simple. You don’t need anyone, not even me. And you’ve proven that time and time again.
“But you’re wrong.” I spin around, searching for a form, a shape, anything to focus on. There’s nothing but endless white. “I do need you. I’m failing now. Look at what’s happening to Wintermoon.”
Ah yes, Wintermoon is certainly in an interesting position. Yet still, you don’t need me.
“Why did you call me away from them?” Frustration bleeds into my words. “My children are in danger. Amari is fighting alone. And I’m stuck here.”
I didn’t call on you, child. Aya made the decision to send you here. You could have gone back and saved Wintermoon. However, it would have cost you.
My face hangs low. The weight of that truth crushes down on me. “I know. It would have cost me Amari.”
Tell me, Carla Blackwood, why did I create the mate bond?
I blink, caught off guard by the question. “I... I don’t know.”
The mate bond was not born from necessity, but from observation. I watched my children struggle alone, bearing burdens too heavy for solitary shoulders. I watched them break under the weight of immortality, of power, of responsibility. The mate bond was my gift to ease that burden.
The voice grows warmer, more intimate.
The mate bond keeps you tethered to Amari, changes both of you, makes you choose what will make your love flourish rather than what will merely keep you alive. It transforms survival into living. Duty into devotion. Obligation into choice.
The white void shifts slightly, like breath moving through silk.
I created supernaturals to maintain the balance on earth. To keep humanity from destroying itself and everything around it. But how can you maintain that balance when you don’t understand the balancing dynamics of love? How can you protect what you do not cherish?
“I don’t know,” I murmur.
Oh, but you do know. You know better than anyone. The voice gains warmth, almost maternal. You served as Wintermoon’s deputy for years, protecting people who feared you. Who called you monster. Who crossed the street when they saw you coming. And still, you showed up. Every single day.
I grow nervous as I continue to listen.
You stood at borders, faced down radicals with weapons designed to kill your children, and you never abandoned your post. You lost Verde and Petra protecting shifter children fleeing to safety. Your children. Murdered. And still you returned to duty the very next night.
“Stop,” I whisper, but Mother Fate continues.
You fought a creature made from your own DNA, created in a laboratory to destroy you. You could have run. Could have hidden in the shadows again. But you stood your ground. You protected Wintermoon.
Tears would be streaming down my face if this realm allowed them.
You protected King Amir’s son Solomon from souls escaping limbo before you even understood what you were becoming.
You accepted the role of Queen of Limbo, became Guardian of Realms, all while humans called you monster and supernaturals kept you at arm’s length.
You begged for acceptance and received only tolerance at best.
“Please,” I beg. “Stop.”
You know more than anyone that the position you’re in is a thankless job. A burden that breaks most who carry it. Yet you carry it still.
“What can I do to get back to Wintermoon?” My voice breaks. “So I can save them? Please. Tell me what to do.”
I’m so happy you asked.
“Why?” I turn in the void, searching for any sign of the entity speaking to me.
Because it has to be a choice. Free will is my greatest gift and my heaviest curse. I cannot force you. I can only offer.
“I will do anything.” My voice is fierce. “Anything. Just tell me.”
I know you will, child. You have a much stronger bond with Amari than most mates. Because you didn’t need the mate bond for your love to bloom. The mate bond is simply a bonus. You don’t need my supernatural bond to love him.
The voice softens with something like pride.
You chose Amari, and he chose you. Before the bond snapped into place. Before destiny declared it. You chose each other through free will, through genuine connection, through love that transcended what I designed. That’s what makes you so special, Carla.
“I don’t feel special. I feel lost.”
You’ve hidden in the shadows for centuries, but you’ve done some of the most formidable and impressive things. Acts of courage. Acts of sacrifice. Acts of pure, selfless love.
“Doesn’t feel like I’ve done much of anything,” I mutter.
You don’t see what I see. You’ve spent your existence begging for a place in the living realm, desperate for acceptance from people who would never give it. And you know what you did in the end?
I wait, my heart pounding.
You made your own. You stopped begging. You stopped shrinking yourself to fit into spaces that were never meant for you. You built a family with Amari, created a home in Medina Shadow Coven, and claimed your throne in limbo.
I think about that. About how different my life is now compared to even a year ago. About finally being seen.
You don’t seek approval anymore. You live in yourself, and you love the family you’ve built with Amari. And just like me, you’ll do anything to protect that family.
“What do I have to do?” I ask, voice steady now.
A pink orb suddenly appears in front of me, pulsing with power that makes me vibrate. It’s beautiful and terrifying, swirling with energy that feels both familiar and utterly foreign. The magic inside it calls to me, recognizes me, wants to merge with me.
I stare at it, and understanding crashes through me wave. “I need to ascend.”
You seem disappointed.
“I don’t understand what it means. Ascend to what? Become what?”
You belong on a higher plane, child. With the other guardians and keepers of balance. Those who watch over realms, who maintain the delicate threads that keep existence from unraveling.
“But Amari.” My voice cracks. “My children.”
It is simply a choice. A choice that I can assure you will work best for you in the end. Trust in me, as I have trusted in you.
I step closer to the orb, feeling its pull. “Choices come with consequences. I was given a second chance at life. I died. I’m not supposed to be here.”
You are very bright, Carla Blackwood. Yes, you understand.
“So what’s the consequence?” I ask, though dread fills me because I already know.
You will have to choose between your ascended role and your family. Not forever, but for a time.
“I can’t cry on this plane, but I want to. I want to scream. I want to rage against this.”
When you ascend, you will have just enough power to siphon back the magic from Nathaniel.
To strip him of what he stole from the Blackwoods.
But you won’t be able to do it again. You’ll be bound by my laws, just as all supernatural beings are.
What you give out, you cannot take back. It must be given back willingly.
“And when I do that, I’ll be bound to my plane.” The reality settles over me like a shroud.
Yes, for a time.
“I won’t see Amari again. I won’t see my children again.” Each word is agony.
That is correct.
“For how long? Your perception of time in these realms is different. A time for you could be centuries for me.”
When the time is right. When Wintermoon no longer teeters on the edge of destruction. When you have learned what you need to learn.
A pause. Then the voice continues.
But I want to leave you with one more thing. One more truth before you make your choice.
“What is it?”
It is your job to learn how to balance—
“Loving Amari,” I finish, understanding flooding through me. “How to love him from a distance. How to protect him without interfering. How to be his mate without being by his side.”
Precisely. You cannot physically interfere with things that go on in the plane he’s bound to. You can only watch. Only influence. Only guide from afar. It will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
“But Henry, Brookstone and Blackburn...” I protest. “They’ll still be out there. Still threatening Wintermoon.”
Nathaniel is your job. He is the piece you must remove from the board. There are other Blackwood witches who will rise to face Henry. Other warriors who will stand against the corporation.
The voice grows firm.
And it is my hope that you will use your influence to build a final Blackwood coven. One that will stand the test of time. One that will never fall to corruption or greed again.
I get lost in the pink orb, feeling its power call to me. Images flash through my mind. Three women cloaked with different shades of brown skin, their hands linked. A young boy with vivid blue eyes. “Three sisters, one son.”
Yes. They will be your legacy in the living realm. Your influence made manifest.
I reach up, my hand trembling as it hovers near the orb. “This is going to hurt. Really going to hurt, isn’t it?”
Transformation always does. But you are strong enough to bear it.
“One more thing,” I say, my hand still hovering. “Will Amari be okay? Will he survive this separation?”
You aren’t going to lose Amari forever. Only for a time. After all, I created the rules, and who am I to break them? I won’t take a mate from a mate. The bond will remain, stretched thin but unbroken. He will feel you. You will feel him. It will be agony, but it will not be death.
I take a deep breath that I don’t need in this realm. “You have a deal.”
I knew I could count on you, Carla Blackwood. You have always been my most reliable child.
I touch the orb. Power explodes around me like a supernova, forming webs of pure energy that wrap around my body, my soul, my very essence.
The pain is exquisite and agonizing, like being unmade and remade simultaneously.
Every cell in my body is being rewritten, elevated to something beyond mortal comprehension.
I start to levitate in the white void, my back arching as the transformation takes hold. My eyes burn, shifting from brown to bright pink that glows like neon. Magic tingles in my fingers, different from before.
And then I see everything.
I’m tethered not just to my spider children, but to every arachnid in existence all over the world.
The connections slam into me one after another.
A jumping spider in Sydney, Australia watches through a window as a couple argues about money, their voices rising.
A garden spider in London spins an intricate web in the corner of a newly opened bookstore, listening to the owner’s nervous hopes for success.
Tofi crouches on the rooftop of the academy, her many eyes scanning for threats, fierce and protective, ready to die for those she guards.
A tiny spider in Tokyo observes a businessman closing a major deal, unaware of the creature witnessing his triumph. A tarantula in the senses the approach of a jaguar, freezing in its burrow. A black widow in California guards her egg sac with lethal devotion.
And there, in the vents of Brookstone and Blackburn, a spider I don’t recognize watches as Alexis argues intensely with Henry. Their voices are sharp with tension about next moves and failed plans. About Nathaniel’s usefulness. About what comes after Wintermoon falls.
I grin at that connection especially.
Everything goes pink. The white void disappears, reality folding in on itself.
I’m standing in the black void of limbo, but I’m not myself anymore. I’m a goddess. I’m power incarnate. I’m the Guardian of Realms, Queen of Limbo, Mother of Spiders ascended. And I understand everything now. Every thread. Every connection. Every possibility.
Aya’s standing in front of Verto, her ghostly form flickering weakly. “No, don’t protect me. Let me die first. I deserve it.”
I look to where my shield used to be. The mob of spirits bursts through, charging toward us.
I just hold up my hand. Power oozes from my fingers, pink and devastating and absolute. It wipes out the entire mob of spirits like dust in the wind. They dissipate into nothing with barely a thought from me.
“Holy shit.” Aya spins to face me, her eyes wide. “You went through with it. You ascended.”
I look at her, really look at her with my new sight, and see everything. Her centuries of pain. Her regret. Her loneliness. Her desperate attempt at redemption. Her sacrifice that sent me here.
“Time for you to go home.”
“What? I can’t.” Her eyes widen with something like hope and fear. “Mother Fate said I have to stay here until—”
I shoot pink magic from my palm. It forms a web around Aya, delicate but unbreakable, wrapping her completely until it envelops her like a cocoon and turns brilliant white.
She disappears, sent back to the white void of Mother Fate where she belongs.
Where she can finally rest. Where she can finally be free.
“Thank you for making the right choice,” I say to the empty air where she stood. “See you around, friend.”
Now it’s just me and Verto in the void. I look at my massive child, my protector, my guardian. He approaches cautiously, sensing that I’m different now.
“Go rest up in your web, baby.”
Verto hesitates.
“I’ve got this.” I smile at him, projecting love and certainty through our bond. “I promise. Go rest. You’ve earned it.”
He obeys reluctantly, skittering away into the darkness of limbo until his massive form fades from view. I can still feel him through our connection, settling into his web, exhausted from the battles.
I close my eyes and focus. My new power extends like threads across reality, connecting me to everything. I see through a thousand eyes at once. Ten thousand. A million. Every spider on earth is now my eye, my ear, my messenger.
And there he is. Nathaniel, walking through a door of limbo into what looks like the front entrance of the academy.
His spirit form is more solid now, strengthened by Solomon’s stolen magic.
He’s about to use what’s left of his power to kill my children so he can use the possessed little shifters to infiltrate the royal island.
To get to Solomon. To complete his plan.
He doesn’t know I’m here. Doesn’t feel my presence. Doesn’t sense the goddess I’ve become.
I open a portal to the academy with a mere thought. The tear in reality is effortless now, like breathing. I step through, my form solidifying in the living realm.
Let’s end this shit.