Chapter 113

**ROSALIE**

The dream didn’t begin as a nightmare.

I stood in a wide, endless field of lavender, the scent of the flowers rich and heady, clinging to my skin like silk. The wind whispered around me, gentle and almost musical. There were no shadows, only a golden light that came from everywhere and nowhere. My hands were bare, my feet too. I looked down and saw the flowers brushing my ankles, swaying in rhythm with my breath.

I could feel magic humming through the air, ancient and expectant.

Then, without warning, the light dimmed. The lavender wilted, folding in on itself as a heavy mist spilled over the horizon. The golden glow gave way to cold silver moonlight. The temperature dropped. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering.

In the distance, a cradle sat alone in the field.

I didn’t remember walking to it, but suddenly I was there, standing over the cradle, looking down. Two babies slept soundly within it. One with pale golden curls and soft, glowing skin, his tiny fists curled against his chest. The other darker, his hair like onyx, his presence heavier somehow. Both were peaceful, but I could feel the power rolling off them in waves—twin pulses, twin hearts, a perfect balance.

Boys.

I knew it, not because I checked, but because the dream told me.

Then a voice, neither male nor female, echoed from behind me.

"The sun and the moon born in blood. One to heal, one to judge."

I turned, but no one was there.

The ground beneath my feet cracked, and smoke began to rise between the fissures. I turned back to the cradle—empty. Panic surged through me. The babies were gone. In their place lay a single black feather.

I picked it up and instantly felt fire burn through my veins. Visions flashed across my eyes, too quickly to make sense of—Aria, bleeding under a silver sky.

Austin, screaming her name. Adam, surrounded by flames. Two young boys standing back-to-back, facing an unseen army.

"She must choose the path. One of peace, or one of vengeance. The twins are the key."

The field shattered like glass.

I bolted upright in bed, heart pounding, breath caught in my throat. The room was dark, but the images still danced behind my eyes. I pressed my palm to my chest, trying to steady the thunder of my heart.

Boys. Twins. One to heal, one to judge.

Aria.

My stomach turned. I knew this wasn’t just a dream. It had the mark of prophecy, the signature of something older and far more powerful than me. I had only experienced it once before, the night before my mother died. That same deep pull of inevitability, of time folding in on itself.

I reached for my notebook and scribbled down everything I could remember—the words, the feather, the boys, the choices. The cradle.

A sharp knock startled me. I crossed the room and opened the door to find Leila in her robe, her hair tousled from sleep.

"You too?" she asked, eyes wide.

I nodded slowly. "You had a dream?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "The baby’s been moving like crazy. I couldn’t sleep. I felt... I don’t know. A shift. In the energy. Like something changed."

I ushered her inside and handed her a glass of water. "Something has. I need to tell you something."

She sat, eyes on me as I relayed the dream. Her expression was unreadable, but I saw the worry tighten her jaw.

"If what you saw is real," she said softly, "then Aria doesn’t just carry the next generation. She carries a choice. A future."

"And if she makes the wrong one..."

Leila shook her head. "We can't let that happen. We need to tell her."

"Not yet," I said, though it broke something inside me to say it. "She needs peace right now. Strength. If we burden her too soon, it could shake her. She
deserves to feel safe."

Leila hesitated. "And when will she be ready?"

I looked down at my notebook, at the words that felt like a curse.

"When they are."

As Leila left a little while later, I moved to the window, watching the horizon start to glow with the first light of dawn. A new day. A fragile hope.

But the feather still burned in my mind.

And I couldn’t help but wonder—which path would Aria choose?

And what would happen if someone else tried to choose for her?

**ARIA**

I woke up with a start, but there was no scream caught in my throat, no sweat on my skin. Just silence. A deep, eerie silence that wasn’t quite right. The moonlight filtered softly through the curtains, silvering the room in a hush that felt both calm and… off.

My breath caught for a moment as I listened.

Nothing.

Not even the faint creak of the old pipes or the usual rustle of wind against the windows. It wasn’t frightening, exactly. Just different. Like the world was holding its breath.

I sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Adam’s arm where it rested lightly over my waist. Austin lay behind me, his breathing steady and warm. Neither stirred.

I slipped my feet to the floor and stood, the coolness of the wood grounding me. For a long moment, I simply stood there in the dark, letting the quiet wrap around me. My instincts, sharper now than they’d ever been, whispered that something had shifted. Something subtle, but real. Like the air before a storm. A ripple I couldn’t see, but I could feel all the way down to my bones.

But there was no danger. Not yet. Just... change.

I crossed the room on bare feet, standing at the window. The moon hung high, full and heavy in the sky. The night looked exactly as it always did—but I wasn’t the same. I could feel it. Something had moved in the weave of fate, something beyond my reach but close enough to stir me awake.

After a few minutes, I slipped back under the blankets. Adam's arm tightened slightly in his sleep, and Austin shifted closer behind me, their bodies anchoring mine.

Still, the feeling lingered.

I closed my eyes, heart quiet but alert.

Something had changed. I just didn’t know what. Not yet.