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Her lips formed a twisted smile. “You’re going to have to go through me, and baby, we know you don’t have it in you to do it again.”

My stomach sank with understanding. “Crap…”

Aiden moved to stand in front of me. I saw him raise the dagger and I knew that he was going to do this—take care of this for me. As much as I appreciated that and really wanted him to do it, I couldn’t.

I placed my hand on his arm, stilling him. “I… I have this.”

My mother’s cold laugh was like a Shockwave.

“Are you sure?” Aiden asked.

The grim set to his jaw told me he didn’t want to listen, but when I nodded, he stepped back and handed me the sickle blade I had dropped. I felt cold as my fingers wrapped around the handle. I hated the fine tremble in my arm and the heavy weight of the weapon.

Most of all, I hated what I had to do.

Mom watched me curiously. “Aw, baby, you really want to do this?” She took a step straight throughthe rubble, stopping in front of me. She laughed again. “Kill your mother twice? Wait. It’s actually three times.”

“Shut up,” Aiden growled.

But this thing—whatever it was—was on a roll. “She died—at least in all ways that mattered—in Miami. And that was to keep you safe. So, that was also your fault. Three’s a charm, eh? And you think you can do it? So what? Doesn’t mean anything. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The back of my throat burned as I took a wobbly step forward, lifting my arm.

“You bring nothing but death to those around you,” she continued. “You should’ve never been born, because you will kill the ones you love, one way or another.”

Those words dug in deep, shattering in the depths of my heart. Without saying a word, because I knew it wouldn’t matter, I brought the blade down.

It swept clean through her. There was a dull flash of light, and then her form faded away as if she was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Within seconds, it was like she’d never been there, and only the cruel, punishing words lingered.

“Well,” I said a bit unsteadily. “Can’t get any worse than that.”

And it did… within a heartbeat.

Two forms appeared beyond the broken foundation, quickly taking shape. Having no idea what or who the gate was going throw at us now, I stood by Aiden and waited as the ghostly shadows became two people.

Aiden sucked in a breath and went ramrod straight. I didn’t realize the significance at first. The two shades were strangers to me, a male and a female. Both were tall and elegant-looking, carrying the air of pure-bloods. The woman had springy, curly hair the color of spun corn silk, and the man was dark-haired, with shockingly familiar silver…

I hadseen them before… in a photo frame back in the room in Aiden’s home—his parents’ home.

The man and woman were his father and mother.

“Oh, Gods,” I whispered, lowering the sickle blade.

Seeing Aiden’s parents—the appearance of our deceased loved ones—suddenly made sense. It wasn’t a physical fight that guarded the gates, not like with the guards and hellhound. This was on an emotional and mental stage—a different tactic to get us to turn away, because if we didn’t, we had to face the unthinkable.

Aiden said nothing as he stared at them. I’d never seen him so still—not even after the first time he’d seen me cleaned up, after I’d punched him in the face, and then kissed him. Or even when the furies attacked the Council, or after he realized I’d killed a pure-blood. Not even when he stood above my bed, waiting for me to wake up after Linard had stabbed me.

I’d never seen Aiden like this—his face utterly devoid of emotion, but his eyes churning in gray and silver. Tension radiated from every locked limb. After witnessing what I had just gone through, he knew this wasn’t going to be good.

And I wanted to stop it before it even got started—spare him the pain of brutal, hurtful words that would lance open old wounds. But when I stepped forward, he snapped alive.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice thick. “I want to hear this.”

I stared at him like he was crazy.

“Of course he does,” Aiden’s father spoke. “My son is no coward. Foolish, but no coward.”

I jerked toward the sound of his voice. I couldn’t get over how much he sounded like Aiden.

His mother’s smile seemed warm enough. “My son, you do not want to do this. The answers you seek do not exist where you wish to tread.”

“I have to,” Aiden replied stonily.

The father tipped his chin up. “No. What you have to do—the right thing to do—is turn around and leave this place.” When Aiden didn’t respond, his father drifted closer and his voice was stern, relentless. “You must do the right thing, Aiden. We raised you to always do the right thing.”

Aiden nodded stiffly. “You have, and that is why I have to do this.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, and I knew I was about to witness some epic family drama. “The right thing would’ve been to take your place among the Council, as you were raised to do.”

Oh no…

A muscle popped in Aiden’s jaw.