Epilogue
AVILYNA
The moment my foot crosses the threshold, awareness slams into me as if I plunged into ice water.
I jolt upright, shoving out of Alek’s grasp, stumbling forward, heart pounding wildly against my ribs.
This is no dream, no illusion. I’m here, in Netherworld, the realm of shadows and flame, and I have no fucking idea what’s awaiting me.
My hands scrape against jagged gravel as I trip.
My feet slip on the slick, treacherous ground.
Unbalanced by the weight of my feathers.
The air reeks of sulfur and something older, earthy.
The breath of the world before it was named.
The sky above churns with crimson and dark clouds, torn open here and there by flashes of lightning.
It illuminates jagged spires clawing up from the cracked ground on the horizon.
A black castle looms atop a rocky mountain, its silhouette stark against the bleeding landscape.
Faceless birds circle overhead, their shrill cries slicing through the air.
The varkuuns move ahead of us. Alek catches my elbow, steadying me.
“Welcome to my humble home, sister.” I glare at him, anger simmering in my chest, but the heartache is greater.
He was here all along.
“I didn’t know!” I snap, wrenching my arm free, putting distance between us. “I didn’t know…”
We once looked alike, now we’re… strangers.
“Well, Lyna,” Alek replies, voice void of warmth, “while you were living in blissful ignorance with Uncle Theo, I was running missions for Nekros.” His skin is deathly pale, the blood at the corner of his mouth a dark, damning smear.
My blood.
“You’re a vampyr,” I whisper, horror tightening my throat, hand flying to my mouth as the truth settles. My stomach drops. Everything has been a blur since I’ve awoken.
“One of the many perks of Netherworld,” he says coldly. “You’ll see soon enough. Now, put those things away,” Alek commands sharply.
Glowering at him, I have nothing to say because I know he’s right.
I can't leave my wings exposed when I don’t even know how to use them.
Right now, they're just an inconvenience, a weakness.
I focus on my back, barely pulling at my muscles.
Trying again, this time with more focus, and they shoot wide open, propelling a demon a few metres away.
It crashes against a naked tree. But Alek sees it coming.
He ducks down, barely avoiding the blow, disappointing.
Closing my eyes, I focus on that new part of me, flexing it slowly but firmly.
I pull it in, and a soft glow follows its trail, but in this place, it might as well be a damn lighthouse.
Slashing through whatever’s left of Kai’s shirt.
My hands shoot up to hide my nakedness, but black tendrils leak out from Alek’s hands.
His head is facing the other way, letting his shadow snakes toward me, wrapping around my limbs.
Panic constricts my lungs as I stumble back, trying to escape the darkness.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Oh, relax,” He tisks, annoyed, “I see being a drama queen is still one of your delightful qualities.”
The smoke coils tighter, forming a dress of shadows.
It clings to me as black silk, far more concealing than the fabric I was wearing.
Deep in thought on whether I should thank him for this or yell at him some more, a black carriage emerges from the dark forest, drawn by skeletal horses.
Their bones gleam like polished obsidian, each movement unnervingly smooth.
No flesh holds them together, just some unknown force pulsing through their hollow frames.
Steam rises from their empty sockets, and iron tack clinks as they toss their heads side to side.
The door creaks open on its own, etched with glowing sigils that pulse faintly, as dying embers. Alek rests one pale hand on the frame, licking the blood from his lip with a slow, deliberate smile that reveals his long, needle-like fangs. So different from the lycans.
“Your chariot,” he murmurs, voice thick with mockery. I don’t really have a choice.
Where am I supposed to run to in this wasteland?
My body gets heavier with every breath. I don’t know if it’s the bite, the bloodlust, or the awakening.
Probably all of them, and I don’t have the energy to face this realm, not yet, anyway.
My hand brushes my neck. The katana pendant is still there.
Alek hasn’t noticed, too preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Climbing in, the air inside is thick with a musty scent, reminiscent of patchouli and old parchment.
Dim sconces flicker with dim light, illuminating seats upholstered in deep crimson velvet, the fabric worn and frayed by time.
A low, guttural hum vibrates through the floorboards, as if the carriage itself is alive, breathing in rhythm with the pulse of the land.
Across from me, Alek settles in. His expression is unreadable, a mask of cold detachment.
But behind his eyes, something shifts, warmer, almost human.
"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice surprisingly steady despite the panic scraping at the inside of my chest. Digging my nails into my legs, the pain acts as a faint anchor, keeping me from spiralling down.
"To the heart of Netherworld," he says, still staring out the window. "To Nekros." The name feels like a bullet to the chest. He’s the embodiment of evil and decay. This place is where souls get twisted and broken. It’s where hope goes to die. The carriage lurches forward.
The skeletal steeds pull us deeper into the grim landscape.
Outside, the terrain shifts, barren plains melting into twisted forests, their gnarled branches resembling tortured bodies.
I lean back against the velvet seat. It’s soft against my skin, but it does nothing to stop the dread crawling up my spine.
I close my eyes, trying to slow my breathing, but the air is thick, heavy, as if I am inhaling my last moments of freedom.
“How come you knew who I was?”
“We’re twins, Lyna; some things are just stronger than spells.” He deadpan.
"So why did you wait until now to come for me?" The words escape in a whisper, too late to swallow them back.
Alek doesn’t look at me. His gaze is fixed on the swirling gust of snow outside. The silence stretches long and taut before he finally answers, his words final.
“I needed to make sure you had a chance.”
I stare at him, wanting to ask what he means, wanting to scream, but the words knot in my throat. Instead, I cross my arms tightly, as if I can keep myself from spiralling down. Looking out the window, I focus on the reality of our journey; there’s no escape.
I am trapped.