Page 62 of The Eternal Mirror (Lucifer’s Mirror #3)

Better Dark than Dead?

A nd with that thought, something cracks open in my mind. A memory.

Not a dream. Not a vision.

This actually happened. And I buried it. Where I buried all my memories of Hecate. They hurt too much. And just like that, I remember. Not in fragments. Not in pieces. I’m back inside the memory, living it again.

“Sink down inside yourself,” Hecate says. “Look with your inner eyes. Search for a break, an opening.”

I try my best to clear my mind, but it’s like asking the ocean to be still. Thoughts churn and crash, and underneath them, something lurks. Something I don’t want to acknowledge.

Except...it’s always been there.

At the thought, a pressure forms in my head. It feels as though I’m standing at the edge of a high cliff, staring into deep, black, bottomless water.

And now, Hecate wants me to dive headfirst into it.

My stomach knots. My breath comes too fast. Ugh. I don’t want to do this.

But once again—it’s not as though I have much choice.

I close my eyes and sink inward, peeling back the layers of myself. Deeper, deeper—

And then I find it. Deep down, something stirs. A flicker. A whisper. A crack in my defenses, thin and jagged, like fractured glass.

And through it—

Darkness.

Not just the absence of light. It’s a living thing, churning, slow and thick, like oil spilling through water.

Cold slams into my chest, as if I’m stuck beneath ice. My lungs seize. My hands turn numb. My pulse is erratic. My skin burns cold-hot. My heartbeat is everywhere—throat, fingertips, skull.

There’s something evil in there. I can feel it. I know it. And it recognizes me, calls to me.

What if I’m not meant to stop the darkness?

What if I am the darkness?

A violent snap—

The crack slams shut.

That’s what I saw.

And I slammed it shut because I was afraid of what I would find.

But maybe...maybe it’s time to take another peek.

“What is it?” Zayne asks. “You’ve thought of something. And from the look on your face, it’s not something good.”

Not good, but maybe...

“I’m Lucifer’s daughter,” I say.

“Yeah, we know that.”

“Conceived after Khronus used dark magic from the mirror splinter to create the devil. Lucifer had dark magic inside him—that’s what made him so powerful. And I think...I think he might have passed it on to me.”

“The dark place inside of you,” Khaosti murmurs.

“Yes.” I’d presumed that when I came into my magic, the dark place was gone, that it was where my magic was hiding.

Now I suspect I’ve been deluding myself.

A little spark of excitement flames to life.

I mean, I don’t want to be dark. But better dark than dead.

At least I can worry about dark later; dead is just dead. Maybe.

“It could be,” Selene muses. “The Astrali males never inherit magic. But Lucifer didn’t inherit it; it was forced on him when the spell was cast. It was never meant to happen. So we have no way of knowing how it would behave. ”

I turn to Khaosti. “I’m scared.”

He takes my hand. “I know. But you can do this.”

“But what if I’m evil? What if I turn out worse than Khronus?”

“Khronus always carried the seeds of darkness,” Selene says. “And he twisted the magic in his own image. Vortex was never evil. He was just a man.”

“That’s usually enough,” I mutter. I take a deep breath. Then I pull free. This is something I need to do alone. I walk a little way into the trees, feeling their eyes on me every step of the way.

I can do this. I’m not afraid.

And I realize I’m not. I’ve grown so much since that time with Hecate. I wasn’t ready then. I could never have dealt with what I found. But I know myself now. I know I’m not evil. I choose to be good. My life, my choice.

I close my eyes and clear my mind. Then I sink down inside myself. Down and down. I pass Frenzy, and she stirs inside me before quieting as if to say ‘you don’t need me; you’ve got this’.

I don’t fight the feelings swirling inside me. And finally, I sense it, a wall surrounding...something. This time, I will a crack to form in the smooth surface. It slowly widens.

I don’t flinch. I don’t run. I don’t scream.

And it splits wide open.

The darkness spills out like oil, slow and thick, and filled with magic. It doesn’t rush me. It doesn’t attack. It just...waits.

And I embrace it.

For a moment, I’m nothing. No body. No breath. No name.

Only cold. And pulse. And power .

It wraps around me—not like chains, but like skin. Like it’s always been part of me, and it’s happy to be free.

The beat of it matches my heart. The voice of it hums inside my bones. It whispers not of vengeance, or rage, or hate.

It whispers, I am here .

And I whisper back: Then let’s finish this.

The darkness answers like a second heartbeat. It is time.

I blink open my eyes. The world is the same. But I have changed. I’m complete.

I walk back to the others. I meet Selene’s eyes and nod.

I don’t want to say goodbye. It’s been said before. But this feels momentous. I have to say something. I settle on, “I’ll be back.” I’ve always wanted to say that.

Zayne snorts. “Go do your thing, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess.”

I stop beside Josh and kiss the top of his head. “Grow up good,” I say.

“I will.”

“I know.”

I turn to Grimlet; he’s wrinkling his nose. “Pretty witch smells like the dark lord.”

Ugh. “Seriously? I could have done without knowing that. Look after Josh.”

“We will look after each other.”

“Good.”

That just leaves Thanouq.

He gives a small bow. “Thank you. From all my people. ”

“My pleasure.”

And that’s it. I take another deep breath, turn away, and start walking. Khaosti falls in beside me. Of course he does. We don’t touch; we don’t speak. We don’t need to. We weave silently through the trees.

Everything is frozen. Waiting. Smoke and shadow roll low across the scorched grass. Khronus stands beneath the Mirror, arms lifted, as if he’s already won. His magic hums in the air—silent, invisible, absolute. I feel it pressing against my skin like static. Like something watching me.

But I don’t stop walking.

And they don’t stop me.

The remnants of his army—twisted shifters, broken gods, men who should have known better—stand between me and my destiny.

Khronus shouts. Blades rise. But they hesitate.

An arrow whistles through the air. My hand lifts, almost lazily, and green fire swirls up around me.

The arrow twists midair and clatters harmlessly to the ground.

Another follows. Then a third.

They all fall.

Swords warp, axes split.

And the army parts around me like I’m made of fire. Maybe I am.

I don’t burn anyone.

I just make them stop .

Because I’m almost done with death. Done with killing people just because they stood on the wrong side of a war. There’s just one more death I crave.

Behind me, I hear Khaos shift.

Bones snap. Power surges.

And then Wrath rises into the sky, tearing through the clouds like a prophecy coming true. His wings blot out the stars. His roar makes the Mirror ripple.

I draw Nightfall, but I don’t raise her.

I just walk forward—one step, two, ten—until I’m close enough to see Khronus’s eyes. They’re gold, bright and cold. But I see it now—the flicker beneath. The fear. He senses the change in me. He doesn’t know what it means. But he soon will.

I lift Nightfall, power rushing through my fingers and then through my sword. And I speak the spell that the darkness whispers to me:

“Invisible shield, I speak your name—

Break before my dark-born claim.”

The air sizzles. The ground fractures. A low shudder ripples outward like thunder underwater.

And then—his wards collapse.

I feel it like a snap in the air. The space around him thins. Weakens. He stares like he’s seeing something he never thought possible .

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.

And I’m still here.

All around me, the remnants of the army fall to their knees. At the edge of the clearing, I see the others approach, and one by one, they drop to their knees: Thanouq, Josh, even Zayne. That’s something I never thought I would see.

Maybe I am a goddess after all.

Wrath comes in to land in front of the mirror, and then Khaos is back. I shift to stand beside him.

“You did it,” he whispers.

“We did it,” I reply.

Not because we were fated to.

But because we chose to.