Chapter Fifty-Five
ELYSSARA
“She’s alive?” I demand, my eyes burning into Elandor like a brand.
The projection shrinks to nothing, the glow vanishing with the memory.
“Is. She. Alive.” I snarl the words like a threat, and my hand itches to palm my blade.
Elandor fidgets under my gaze, his mouth moving in silent attempts to speak.
“Yes or fucking no, Elandor?” Kael growls like thunder from the skies.
No one else dares to speak. They only watch, breaths held.
But Elandor stands, feet tripping over the legs of his chair as he stumbles forward.
“Ah, if you’ll just give me a moment…” he trails off, patting the pockets of his robes in search of something.
“Yes, in a heartbeat, you’ll have your answer,” he explains, as he pulls out a key from the pocket at his breast.
The key groans through the lock securing the heavy oak door to his chamber—
Click.
He yanks on the bolt, and the door croaks open.
Elandor whispers instructions to a Shade wearing robes of monotonous gray at the door, and the spy races off, his footsteps barely making a sound.
The Shade disappears down the corridor, and for a long, heavy heartbeat, no one moves.
The air changes first.
Like history is being carved into my bones.
Like truth is being reshaped in my marrow.
It raises the hairs on my arms, hums low in my belly.
Kael’s hand finds the hilt of his blade, and Teddy straightens in preparation for… something.
Footsteps.
Soft at first, then steady.
The sound echoes down the stone hall—slow, deliberate, weighted with purpose.
And then she appears.
The light from the corridor catches first on her hair—a muted chestnut streaked with silver, half-tamed and braided like a crown.
Her frame is leaner, her face thinner, but her eyes—Stars above—her eyes are the same.
Green as the forests of Mount Lyssar. The same eyes that used to tuck me into bed.
The same eyes that burned through smoke and chaos and told me to run.
“Little Star,” she breathes.
The sound is quiet, reverent. But it breaks something in me.
Everything stops.
The chamber, the candlelight, the breath in my lungs—everything folds inward until there’s only that voice, that name.
My body doesn’t move. My throat closes. I think I hear Seren gasp, maybe even Ronyn swear softly, but it’s like I’m hearing through water.
Because she can’t be here.
She can’t be alive.
I should run to her. I should fall to my knees. I should scream.
But I just… can’t.
Kael says my name through the tether, but I can’t reach for him either.
Because if I move, she might disappear.
If I blink, the illusion will break.
Her eyes glisten with tears that don’t fall. She takes a single step forward.
And that’s when the walls of my composure crack.
All the air leaves me in a soundless sob—more breath than voice—as the truth rips through me.
Revelation feels like resurrection—beautiful, painful, and impossible to survive unchanged.
My mother is alive.
And the girl she told to run has finally stopped running.