The door slammed shut behind us with a final, echoing thud.

I spun around, breath shallow, hand already glowing with flame — but it wasn’t the locked stone door that made my chest tighten.

It was her.

Aria stood in the center of the room, head bowed, hands trembling at her sides. Shadow coiled around her fingers like smoke—dense, wrong, alive.

Then she lifted her head.

And it wasn’t her.

“Stormbird?” I said, stupidly, like saying the name might anchor her, might reach her. But her eyes—gods, her eyes—were ringed with obsidian, flickers of white-hot energy veining through them like cracks in porcelain.

Her lips curled into a smile that wasn’t hers.

“You’re finally alone,” the voice rasped. Not Aria’s voice. Silk soaked in poison. “No running. No allies. No more pretending.”

The air dropped ten degrees. The stone walls trembled. And I realized—this wasn’t Aria fighting the Hollow Twin anymore.

The Hollow Twin had won.

I stepped back as she raised her hand, a sharp gleam of energy forming in her palm like a blade made of starlight and rot.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” she whispered. “Of watching the light drain from your eyes. Of what you’d look like begging.”

I swallowed. “Then kill me. But don’t pretend this is victory.”

She paused, tilting her head.

“She’s watching,” I said. “Isn’t she? The real Aria. Trapped somewhere in the dark while you wear her skin. She’s still in there. And she hates you for this.”

Something flickered in her face. A twitch. A breath caught.

“She’s not strong enough to stop me,” the Hollow Twin said, stepping closer. “You saw what she did when she let me in. You saw what she is. She’s not your Stormbird. She’s me.”

“No,” I said, voice hard now. “You’re just the part of her twisted by pain. The part she never asked for. You’re not her power. You’re her wound.”

Her jaw clenched.

“She’s more than you. Stronger than you.”

“Lies.”

“She’s the girl who stood between a burning village and a horde of shadows, even when it nearly killed her. The one who saved a child with blood on her hands. Who fought for people who would’ve burned her at the stake. You think you made her strong? You think fear makes someone worth fearing?” I took a step forward. “She’s powerful because she chooses not to be you.”

A snarl tore from her throat, inhuman and raw.

“She hates you,” I said, quiet now. “But she would never kill me.”

The energy surged—so did her rage. But her hand shook.

“She cares about me,” I said. “Even if she won’t admit it. Even if she thinks she shouldn’t. She does. And I—”

She flinched.

“—I’m not afraid of dying. But I am afraid of losing her to you.”

The silence cracked like thunder.

And then—she staggered.

Just half a step.

One hand rose to her temple, clawing at her hair. Her lips parted on a sob that wasn’t hers.

“Alec…”

Her voice. Real. Raw. Drenched in terror.

The shadows spasmed.

She dropped to her knees.

I rushed forward, catching her before she hit the stone. Her body shook like something inside was breaking apart.

“I’m here,” I breathed. “You’re okay. You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

Tears carved twin lines down her cheeks. Her eyes—still rimmed in shadow—searched mine, wild and desperate.

“I can’t stop it,” she whispered. “It wants to kill you.”

“Then let it try.” I held her tighter. “I’m not leaving. You hear me? I’m not running. If it’s going to kill me, it’ll have to look through your eyes to do it.”

She shook her head, trembling.

And for a moment, I saw her. Just her. The girl under the chaos. Scared. Tired. Still fighting.

“Come back to me, Aria,” I whispered. “You’re stronger than this.”

She screamed.

Magic exploded from her in a wave—light and dark colliding, tearing through the room. I shielded my face with my arms, bracing for death—

But it never came.

When I looked again, she was curled in my lap, unconscious, her face turned into my chest.

The shadows were gone.