The voice that echoed from Lily's mouth didn't belong to a child.
It was ancient. Hollow. Filled with a hunger that scraped bone.
"I was born from fire and grief," the voice whispered. "And you—Ava Hart—you called me."
The barrier shimmered as Lily's body floated inches above the altar. Her eyes, no longer violet or blue, swirled with gold and red, as if galaxies warred within her irises.
Ava stood frozen. Her heartbeat slowed. Her hands trembled, the golden flame flickering weakly at her fingertips.
"No," she whispered. "That's not possible. You're my daughter. I carried you. I raised you."
But her mind screamed otherwise.
Because deep down, in the darkest part of her memory, she remembered something she wasn't supposed to.
Ten Years Ago
Blood.
Rain.
A circle of ash drawn beneath the full moon.
She remembered kneeling at the edge of an altar in the woods, weeping. Her heart had been shattered then, her body broken from a curse that had taken her unborn child.
And she had begged the shadows.
"Give me back my baby. Please. I'll do anything."
The wind had whispered. A voice—this same voice—had responded.
"Anything?"
Ava had said yes.
And fire had erupted in her womb.
Back in the Temple
Ava gasped, falling to her knees. Her fingernails scraped the cold marble floor. Damian, chained behind her, groaned again, struggling to rise.
The Ember Witch only smiled.
"You never gave birth to her," she said sweetly. "You summoned her. A perfect vessel. A blank slate. One day, she would carry me."
"No," Ava croaked. "I wanted to save her. I didn't know—"
"You knew enough. You made the pact. Now the time has come to honor it."
The flames flared. Lily's body arched upward in the circle. Her mouth opened wide, but no sound came out. Her eyes locked onto Ava's, a flash of terror breaking through the possession.
"Mommy… help me."
A Heartbreaking Choice
Ava's body burned, torn between rage and guilt.
She had summoned her own daughter.
Not born… but created. A vessel of magic forged in love and desperation. And now that love was being twisted into a weapon.
"Take me instead," Ava said suddenly. "Let her go. I'll take her place."
The Ember Witch tilted her head. "You're no longer fit to carry me, Ava. You're flawed. Weak. Human."
"Then kill me," Ava hissed. "But you will not take her."
There was a silence.
Then the witch laughed, soft and mocking.
"You misunderstand, Ava. I don't need your permission anymore."
The runes around Lily exploded outward.
And from her chest… the fire burst.
Not ordinary fire.
But Emberfire—pure and ancient, alive.
The temple shook. The statues cracked. The ceiling above began to tremble.
And Lily's mouth opened again.
But this time, two voices spoke.
One was hers. The other… the Ember Witch's.
"She's mine now, Ava. And soon—so will the world."