Olivia didn't mention the reflection to Aiden the next morning. Some part of her feared that speaking it aloud would make it more real. Instead, she kept her silence and wandered through the east wing, where the sun filtered weakly through the frosted windows and everything smelled faintly of parchment and rosewater.
Aiden found her by the grand piano. He said nothing for a moment, just watched her run her fingers over the keys. She didn't play—she'd never learned—but somehow the ivory felt familiar, like the memory of a song trapped in a dream.
"She played," he said quietly, stepping closer. "Every morning. Until the war began."
Olivia looked up. "Seraphina?"
He nodded. "Before she turned cold. Before the fire consumed her."
She pressed one key. A low note echoed through the hall like a ghost's sigh. "Did you love her?"
The question surprised even her. It hung in the air like smoke.
Aiden hesitated. "I admired her. I feared her. I was drawn to her power. But love?" He shook his head. "Love needs honesty. And Seraphina was made of secrets."
Olivia met his gaze. "And me? What do you feel when you look at me?"
Something shifted between them. A stillness. A charge. A warmth not born of fire.
"I see someone trying not to become something she fears," Aiden said, voice low. "Someone brave enough to question her own power. And… someone who makes it very hard for me to think clearly."
Her breath caught. The ache she'd been ignoring tightened in her chest. "I don't want to be her."
"Then don't," he said simply. "Be Olivia. Be better."
He reached for her hand. She let him. Their fingers intertwined like instinct, and something soft sparked in her core—something deeper than lust, lighter than fear.
He stepped closer. "We're fighting a war, Olivia. Inside you. Around us. But I won't pretend I haven't thought about this—us."
She didn't pull away. "Then stop pretending."
Their lips met.
It wasn't fire—it was water after drought. A slow, aching release. His hand cupped her jaw as her body leaned into his, the warmth of his chest grounding her like roots. She felt herself melt, not with magic, but with the raw ache of wanting. Being wanted. Being seen.
He pulled back just enough to whisper, "Tell me to stop."
She didn't.
They stumbled upstairs, breathless. Rain beat against the windows, thunder rumbling like distant drums. His jacket fell to the floor. Her blouse followed. There was nothing hurried, nothing forced—just heat and hunger and the ache of two people clinging to something real in a world where nothing was safe.
They made love as if they'd done it before, as if Seraphina's ghost had stepped aside and left them space. And for a few sacred hours, Olivia forgot who she'd been.
Afterwards, tangled in bedsheets, her head on Aiden's chest, she traced the faint scar across his shoulder.
"Where did you get this?" she asked.
"Saving someone who didn't want to be saved," he replied with a soft laugh. "A Fireborn child. Couldn't control her power."
"Did she survive?"
"She did. Last I heard, she runs a sanctuary near York."
Olivia closed her eyes. "I wish I'd met you before all this. Before the fire. The visions. The war inside my skin."
He kissed her hair. "We're here now. That's all that matters."
She dozed in his arms, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of the blankets. But in the back of her mind, the whisper returned.
He'll leave you too. They always do.
She flinched. Aiden stirred but didn't wake.
The voice was clearer now.
You're not meant for peace. You were born for ruin.
Olivia slid out of bed and padded to the mirror across the room.
Her reflection looked back. Same face. Same eyes.
And yet, something was wrong.
Seraphina's shadow lingered behind her, faint but there—watching.
"You think he loves you?" the voice purred. "He doesn't even know you. Not the real you."
"I am the real me," Olivia whispered.
"For now."
A crash downstairs interrupted the quiet.
Olivia rushed to dress, grabbing the robe near the bed. Aiden was already pulling on his trousers, his face tense.
They descended the stairs to find the front doors blown open, wind and leaves swirling in. At the threshold stood a woman cloaked in deep violet, her face veiled.
Kael's voice echoed behind her. "She wanted to see you."
The woman pulled back her veil.
Olivia gasped.
The woman had her face.
Not Seraphina's.
Hers.
"I'm Elara," she said with a calm smile. "I'm your twin."