Page 165 of What Blooms from Death

As I watched it glistening, a chilling, awful possibility burrowed its way into my heart and refused to budge.

“…What is that mark on your arm?” I whispered.

He glanced at it, as if just now noticing the way it pulsed and moved. “You had a similar one, before your keepers in the Above started working to shackle your powers, trying to convince meyour magic was fading, that you weren’t worth paying attention to—as though I would fall for their tricks.”

My mind raced, desperate to remember all the things I’d learned since making my way into this palace.

What was it Thalia had said? The only beings who could travel freely between the two worlds were the Vaelora. Was this how he had seen me the night of the Moonweaver Festival? And all the other things I had no explanation for…the seemingly random reactions of my bracelet…the strange comatose states Aleks had suffered until I came along…and what else, whatelse—

“You look troubled, Princess.”

My gaze darted up to his. “You’re…” My words caught in my throat.

His smile grew, arrogant and cold, and the sight flooded my body with furious heat.

I lifted my chin and looked him directly in the eyes. I would say his name, and I would not be afraid.

At least in that moment, I refused to let myself be afraid.

“Lorien Blackvale.” My voice came out hushed but strong. “Your ability to take over different bodies isn’t a myth.”

“So clever. As I’ve come to expect from you over these past few weeks.” He stepped closer. I started to reach for Grimnor’s handle. But his focus shifted away from me—to the blade floating behind me, instead.

The edges of his body began to glow faintly, as if his magic was waking in the presence of Luminor. Or maybe he was simply no longer bothering to suppress it, to hide his true identity.

I didn’t know how he’d hidden it from me these past weeks—how he’d hidden it from so many others for so long. But now my own magic was rising in answer to his; more undeniable evidence that he was harboring a power greater than anything I could have guessed at.

Little wisps of darkness lifted from me, and as I watched them twist and tumble, I heard myself whisper, “How is this possible?”

He dropped his gaze to mine. “I have prevailed through centuries, watching Noctaris fade away through a dozen different sets of eyes, waiting for the day when the last of its life-force, the last of its magic, finally expired. And it was so close to beingfinished.

“Calista should have been the last of the Shadow Vaelora. The ending I gave her should have made it impossible for her magic to be reborn.” He rolled his shoulders, as though shifting the weight of all those centuries upon them. “Then, twenty-five years ago,youwere born, somehow. I knew it the moment it happened, because I felt it through the bond the two Vaelora always share—your first breath was like a knife twisting in my chest. And yourmagic…” His gaze trailed over me, a slow probing that made my skin crawl. “It was something to behold, even while we were in separate worlds.”

The sword was forgotten, all of Lorien’s focus and intensity now on me.

I fought the urge to take a step back.

I will not show fear.

“They tried to hide you. To whisk you away to a place where your magic wouldn’t grow as quickly or noticeably. But I found you soon enough.”

Another icy realization crept down the back of my neck, and my composure nearly slipped. “…You’re the one who tried to kill my brother and me when we were babies.”

His smile turned into more of a snarl. “Emphasis ontried.But your magic combined with his and reacted in an unpredictable way.” Another roll of his shoulders, and I had the crazy, unsettling thought that there was a more monstrousversion of him contained within Zayn’s skin, pushing and prodding, searching for a way out.

“It…dismantledme, for a bit,” he continued. “But I still kept a foothold in the Above realm, thanks to my loyal servants who kept vigil.”

“…The Light Keepers.”

“Three years.” He circled me slowly, the movement casual yet predatory. “That’s how long it took me to regain my grip on my powers. For three years, my spirit resided in Luminor’s blade, healing and regenerating while kept under lock and key by the Keepers. Once I managed to fully regain my powers and consciousness, I found myself in need of a new body.”

“So you stole Zayn’s?”

“Well, he wasn’t myfirsttarget.”

The room shifted and spun, and my stomach twisted as it occurred to me who that first target had likely been.

My gaze shifted toward the door, calculating. Torn between a need to escape and a need toknow. He seemed to be getting a sickening, arrogant sort of joy out of keeping me pinned here by telling me one horrifying thing after another, and—despite the warnings firing through me—I couldn’t bring myself to run away from these answers I was finally hearing.

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