Soon followed by: Friend.

And then: Enemy.

Though that last part is chased with a dazzling, white-toothed smile.

We meet Roman’s gaze. Noting the way the grin lights up his face, lights up his energy, making it spark and glow as he shuts his eyes tightly and concentrates on a long stream of words he wants us to hear.

A long stream of words I can’t seem to put into any sort of context, can’t make any kind of sense of.

A long convoluted list of herbs, potions, crystals, and… moon phases…

I gasp, eyes wide with disbelief, gaping at Damen, wondering if he hears what I hear, understands what, for me, just became clear.

It’s the antidote!

Roman is willingly, without being asked, bullied, manipulated, or tortured, holding up his end of the deal.

The one we struck just minutes before he was killed and sent here.

The one where I agreed to give him what he wanted most, in exchange for what I wanted most.

Drina for the antidote that’ll allow Damen and me to be together in the way that we were as Alrik and Adelina—with no need for energy shields, no fear of our DNA clashing, no threat of Damen dying.

Roman’s making good on his word.

Taking a moment to repeat it once more, make sure that we got it, took note of it, committed it to memory, because he’ll soon be moving on, with Drina by his side, and he doesn’t expect to see us again, or at least not for a very long time. This is our last chance. The opportunity won’t come again.

I gulp, nod, brimming with so much gratitude, so overcome with happiness, my eyes sting, my throat swells, and I’ve no idea where to start, what to say.

But I don’t have to say anything. He and Drina have already joined hands, already turned away. Already headed to the next cube where, having no further need of us, they pool their energy in a way that splits it wide open, allowing Haven to burst out of her own personal hell.

She shoots straight for me. An angry ball of raging red energy that, from all appearances, is still furious with me.

Still blames me.

Still intends to make good on her last spoken words—her threat to undo me.

Damen shouts, jumps between us, his arms spread wide, doing his best to cover me, to defend me from whatever she’s planned.

But just as she reaches us, hovering a mere razor’s width away, she stops, slows, and I watch, eyes wide with wonder, as the furious red glow of her simmers into a much softer rose-toned pink. Shifting between all of the personas of her previous lives, beginning with my cousin, Esme’s sister, Fiona, before transitioning into several more I vaguely recognize from scenes I’ve viewed of my past incarnations. Amazed to learn she’s been with me all this time, usually from a distance, never as a close friend or even a sister, but still, wow, I had no idea.

I start to apologize, want her to know how deeply sorry I am, but she’s far too impatient, and quickly waves it away. There’s still more to show me, she’s not quite through yet, and I watch as she transitions into all of the guises she wore in her most recent life. Everything from her prima ballerina phase, to her J. Crew preppy phase, to the goth phase she was in back when we first met, to the short-lived Drina-wannabe phase that followed, to the emo phase that came shortly after, to the black leather and lace rock ’n’ roll gypsy look that didn’t last long before transitioning into her super-scary immortal witch phase, as Miles once called it—the one her life ended with—until finally settling upon a version of herself I’ve never seen before. One where her hair is long and shiny and well cared for, her eyes clear and bright, her clothing slightly edgy, Haven-like, but not crying out for attention or in-your-face angry. But the biggest change of all is the radiant smile that lights up her face, telling me she’s finally found herself—finally at peace.

Finally likes who she is.

Jabbing her thumb between Damen, Roman, and Drina, a love triangle that spanned way too many centuries, she shakes her head, rolls her eyes, and lets out a long wistful sigh that soon turns into a contagious laugh I can’t fight. The two of us giggling in a way that reminds me of better days spent with Miles at the lunch table, lazy afternoons holed up in her room with a stash of magazines piled high between us, Friday nights hanging in my Jacuzzi after having devoured an entire pizza.

Her focus shifted back to me when she thinks: I don’t hate you. Though I’m not gonna lie, I used to. And not just in that last life, but in most of the others as well. But that’s only because I was so unhappy with myself, I was sure that everyone else had it better, had what I needed. I was sure that if I could only claim what they had, then I could be happy too. She shakes her head, rolls her eyes at the absolute folly of it. Anyway, you’ll be glad to know that’s all over now. I’m free in more ways than one. Now I’m just looking forward to whatever comes next.

I swallow hard and nod, her words pretty much the opposite of what I’d prepared for, which makes them even more welcome. Ones I won’t soon forget.

And then, the next thing I know, Drina points, Haven squeals, Roman grins, and they all join hands, the three of them rushing toward something viewable only to them, disappearing into a brilliant flash of white light without once looking back.

Chapter twenty-five

Damen pulls me into his arms, grasps me tightly to him, then lifts me into the air and swings me around. My hair swirling behind me like a shiny gold cape as we twirl and spin and dance and laugh, gazing in wonder as this once-barren field begins to transform itself.