Page 57 of Taming Darkness

“Ready to go inside, Thomas?” Kalen asks our son.

“Yea! I want ice cream too, Daddy!” Thomas exclaims, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Alright, but you have to promise to eat your dinner first, okay?” Kalen negotiates, looking into Thomas’ eyes, which are now filled with conflict about whether or not he really wants the ice cream or to ditch his vegetables.

“Okay, I promise!” he finally agrees enthusiastically.

Molly runs over, holding Darius' hand, her tiny face lit up with joy. “I want the pink ice cream!”

“Only if you both eat your dinner first,” I remind them, trying to hold my ground.

“Okay, Mommy.” Molly chirps, her excitement contagious, and even if she doesn’t eat her vegetables, I know one of her fathers will be sneaking ice cream to them.

We all head inside, the laughter and love of our family surrounding us. As challenging as it can be, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. We have our ups and downs, but at the end of the day, we’re a family. And we’ll always be there for one another. With our magical twins, our lovable Phoenixes, and the unwavering support of their fathers, I know we can face anything life throws our way.

Epilogue

~ALEERA~

The room is suffused in inky darkness, only interrupted by the gentle luminescence of the moonlight spilling through the curtains. I can feel Darius’ warm breath on my neck, slow and rhythmic. Every instinct tells me to stay, but a dark compulsion tugs at my soul. The sweet scent of lavender wafts from the sheets, and I carefully slide my leg over him, trying to remain unnoticed.

He stirs, a soft moan escaping his lips. My heart hammers in my chest. I'm frozen, hoping he's still lost in his dreams. The room remains silent, save for our shared breaths.

Slow, heavy breaths create a lulling rhythm as I watch him, but the darkness inside me churns, beckoning me to follow its call. A call I can't say no to, one I've kept secret. However, I believe Darius is on to me. I rise. The siren song of vengeance is irresistible tonight. And despite Darius' recent suspicions, I can't help myself. I’m careful not to disturb Darius, but the dark pull is all-consuming. I must heed its call or wake him up.

But within, only the silent whispers of a house asleep. I steal into the room next door, where my children dream in the glow of nightlights.

Their chests rise and fall in a synchronized rhythm. Ryze, majestic as ever, stares at me from his perch on my daughter's bedhead, flames dancing gently around his Phoenix form. The light from his flames casts eerie, dancing shadows around the room. "Watch them," I whisper, running a hand along her gleaming beak. Her eyes lock onto mine, an unspoken promise. Ryze, so used to my midnight escapades, acknowledges my passing with a low coo. She watches over our children every night, bonding with them as she has me. Yet, she knows the night's wicked games.

Drawing upon my power, I open a portal. The shimmering space before me reveals a lavish room, and I step into Lysander’s sanctuary. This place, with its ornate bed and plush furnishings, has seen too many of my hauntings.

My feet barely make no sound on the cold marble floor. But my presence, my energy, is palpable. Lysander lies sprawled across his bed, the sheet twisted around his leg. I lean in, watching the man who once believed he held power over my destiny. My lips part, releasing a haunting whistle.

His eyes flutter, a frown marring his features. He’s not quite awake yet. Not quite aware of the nightmare that awaits. I summon the darkness within me, willing myself to a shadow, ethereal and invisible. Whispers, soft and sibilant, dance around the room, echoing back to me.

The fear in his gaze is instantaneous as he awakens. His eyes search wildly. The fear, it's tangible. I can taste it. Drawing on the memories that haunt him most, I morph into the image of his deceased wife. Karla, her golden locks, her familiar face. Lysander’s breath catches, his eyes widening in horror and disbelief. “Karla?” he rasps.

His voice draws me in like a moth to a flame. “Come find me,” I beckon, my voice a haunting mix of mine and hers.

Lysander stumbles out of his bed, reaching for the bat he keeps by his bed. My laughter echoes, ethereal and otherworldly, as I lead him on a game of hide and seek. The mansion becomes my playground, a haunted maze.

When he reaches the living room, lights start flickering to life. I slide into a dimly lit hallway, my voice transforming into a ghostly siren call. The sadness in his eyes, the raw vulnerability, gives me pause. “Please… just let me rest,” he begs, tears streaming down his face. A whimper wracks his body, but my cruel and haunting laughter fills the space between us.

His eyes dart around, his terror evident. Before he can fully take in the entire room, I meld into the shadows and flick the lights back off, my voice a chilling whisper. “Why did you let him hurt me, Lysander? Didn't you love me?”

Lysander's breath becomes ragged, fear tainting his every move as his hand scrambles around for the light switch.

“Why did you let me die?” My voice is a cold echo of Karla's, reverberating through the room, and he spins the bat swinging wildly. I flick the light on, and he pivots, but I'm already gone.

With each step he takes, I lead him deeper into his haunted mansion. Candles flicker, casting shadows that dance and taunt him. He turns, hearing a ghostly giggle, feeling a cold touch on his shoulder, but seeing nothing.

“What do you want from me?” His voice is desperate, pleading.

“You let me die,” I hiss, letting the shadows wrap around him. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, each echo, each whisper driving another nail into his psyche.

“Why? Why must I suffer this way?” Tears streamed down his face. A broken man tormented by his own guilt and the ghosts of his past.

“Because you deserve it,” I murmur, my voice a serpentine whisper.

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