Page 151 of The Eternal Mirror
Me.
Above us, Wrath wheels once, then dives. His claws close around Khronus’s body in one smooth strike. There’s no struggle—he doesn’t get the chance. Wrath lifts him into the sky, wings beating like war drums.
And I shift.
Silver flame explodes from my skin, my bones stretching, black wings unfurling, hooves hitting the ground like thunder.
I launch into the air, and it’s like coming home.
Wrath is waiting high above, holding his father in a giant fist of claws.
He sees me.
He lets go.
Khronus falls—flailing, twisting, magic screaming off him in violent pulses.
I rise.
I dive.
Wind tears past me, the Mirror’s glow blinding, the world narrowing to one point. I am fury. I am fire. I am every shattered girl who ever clawed her way to freedom.
And then I strike.
My horn pierces Khronus’s chest—deep, clean, final—straight through the heart.
For a heartbeat, time halts.
He jerks. Eyes wide. Mouth open. Shock etched into every inch of him, as if he truly never believed this moment would come. That someone could end him.
But gods die too.
His mouth moves like he wants to say something—but nothing comes. Not a scream. Not a spell. Not a curse. Only silence.
And then—
Light. Blistering. Blinding.
His body fractures. Cracks like glass. And in a breath, he’s unraveling—breaking apart like ash caught in a hurricane.
Gone. Forever.
I wheel through the air once, twice, then glide lower. My hooves touch down in the blackened grass.
And I look at the Mirror.
Still whole.
Still waiting.
But quiet for now.
Because it knows.
It’s done.
He’s gone.
