Prologue
We’re heading home in a taxi — it’s already past two in the morning. I hope Mom’s asleep. I enter the code and we slip through the gate.
“Good party, but my legs are about to fall off,” Mary complains.
“You should run more. Build up stamina,” I tease her.
“God, we’re already more fit than anyone at that party. Half of them passed out wherever they landed.”
We approach the house, and despite the relaxed mood, unease creeps in. The porch lights are off. Not a single window is lit. Everything is too quiet — like someone turned the sound off.
We exchange a glance and stop at the door. From her face, I realize she feels it too. Even though our lives have always been under threat, magic has kept us hidden. Our family has lived a quiet, safe suburban life.
Mary pushes the door — it isn’t locked.
“Wait. I’ll go first. You stay behind me.”
I stop her with my hand and step forward. I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out my phone, and turn on the flashlight. I open the door wider so we can get in and move quietly inside.
The hallway looks normal.
My heart starts beating faster.
I raise a finger at Mary to stay still and listen.
Nothing. Absolute silence. Unnatural silence.
Even the cat didn’t come to greet us.
He always does.
I gesture for Mary to follow me deeper inside. We move toward the living room, and I sweep the flashlight across the space — the beam is too small, barely showing anything ahead.
Everything is in its place.
I glance at Mary and shrug. She grabs my hand. I lead her further into the house.
Then I smell metal.
I don’t understand where it’s coming from — but I already know what it might be. My stomach tightens.
I step onto something near the kitchen entrance. Glass crunches under my shoe.
I swing the phone light wildly across the room — and see a leg behind the kitchen island.
And blood. Everywhere.
On the floor, the counters, the cabinets.
Nausea rises instantly. My palms go sweaty.
Behind me, Mary sees it too and gasps quietly, covering her mouth.
I freeze.
I can’t make myself move forward — but I can’t look away either.
Mary rushes around the island and pulls me with her.
And then we see her.
Our mother. On the floor.
“Mom… mom…” Mary drops to her knees, trying to find a pulse.
I kneel beside her too, trying to check the wounds. She can still be helped… right?
I touch the cut on her stomach.
Her body is already cold.
The blood has stopped.
Mary looks at me. Her eyes are full of tears.
“What happened here? We need to call the police!”
I force myself not to break down, and gently pull her hand away from Mom.
I don’t know who did this. Most likely a hired killer from King Lenner’s side. It can’t be anyone else.
“We need to get out and call someone. The killer might still be in the house,” I say quietly, pulling her toward the exit.
We almost run out of the kitchen — and then we hear a noise upstairs.
Like a step.
“Shit—hurry!” I whisper.
We sprint through the living room and the hallway and burst out onto the porch. The image of the kitchen still burns behind my eyes, but I need to get Mary somewhere safe.
“We need to call someone!” Mary pleads, stopping for a second to catch her breath.
“This isn’t a robbery,” I say, forcing my voice steady. “And this wasn’t a human.”
We run toward the gate.
My bracelet is burning against my wrist. I never take it off — not even to sleep. Mom gave it to me when I was twelve and made me promise to use it only in emergencies.
It can open a portal to Queen Sorsera.
Once.
And this is it.
We stop by the gate. I walk onto the lawn, dig a small hole in the soil, and place the bracelet inside.
I step back.
We wait.
A few seconds later, light erupts — a portal forming, pure light with nothing visible inside. I’ve never seen magic like this before.
Mary grabs my hand.
“We go together?” she asks, wiping tears from her face.
“Always,” I say.
We step through.
In an instant, the lawn disappears.
We are standing in a room with white walls and golden details. A white stone desk. A Rococo-style chair.
A woman sits there, around thirty-five. Blonde hair half pulled back, sharp features, amber eyes.
She looks at us immediately.
Her brows lift.
“Where is Astrid?” she asks.
She already knows who we are.
Relief almost leaves my chest — until reality crashes back down.
My throat tightens.
“She’s dead,” I say. “He found us.”
