He stood in the doorway.
Damian.
But he wasn't the man Ava had bled, begged, and burned for.
His stormy gray eyes—once filled with pain and promise—were now flat.
Lifeless.
His lips curled, slow and mocking. "You should've let me die, Ava."
The Voice That Lied
Ava stumbled backward, her breath caught in her throat. Her fire dimmed, flickering with confusion and dread.
"Damian," she whispered. "It's me."
He stepped into the room, the melted dolls crunching under his boots. His shadow dragged behind him unnaturally—twisting like a predator on a leash.
"You gave me to her," he said coldly. "To the Ember Witch. You gave everything—except the truth."
"No," she breathed. "I gave her my memory to protect you. I—I chose you."
"But you chose wrong."
He lifted his hand.
And flames—black as ink and whispering with voices—rose around him like wings.
The War of Two Flames
Ava's chest heaved.
This was not the man she kissed beneath the crimson eclipse. This was not the man who held her when Lily first cried. But something—somewhere in those broken eyes—still shimmered.
She refused to give up.
"Fight her," she begged. "You're stronger than this, Damian."
Damian's grin cracked wider.
"Stronger? I was always your weakness."
He launched toward her, and their fires collided in a thunderclap of light and smoke.
The throne room shattered.
Walls crumbled into burning shards. A vortex of ash swirled, tearing at their skin, their memories, their pain.
The Flashback
For a moment, as their flames met—time broke.
Ava saw them.
Together. In a memory not her own.
Damian—laughing. Holding a paintbrush. Smearing red streaks across her cheek in a sun-drenched studio.
"You'll never leave me, right?"
"I couldn't even if I tried," she had replied.
Then the fire snapped the vision away, and she was back in the ruin of the dollhouse.
Damian stared at her.
His lips trembled. For just a second.
"Ava…"
She reached for him.
But then his eyes rolled back—and the Ember Witch's voice spilled from his mouth.
"Your love is the key that locks him to me. Shall we see what breaks first—your heart or his soul?"
The Shatterpoint
Suddenly—
A shriek tore through the air.
Lily. The real Lily.
Her voice rang through the flames, from somewhere deep within the house.
"MOMMY! HELP ME!"
Ava froze.
Damian lunged again, but this time she caught his hands in hers—fire crackling between them.
"I'll come back for you," she whispered.
Then she turned and ran—sprinting through smoke and crumbling dreams, her daughter's scream guiding her like a heartbeat.
As Ava reached the final corridor, flames surged from the walls, melting reality. at the end of the hall, a mirror stood tall—cracked and bleeding shadow.
Inside it—
Lily, trapped.
Pounding on the glass.
And behind Lily—
The Ember Witch, smiling.
She lifted her hand.
And drove a burning blade straight toward Lily's back.