Rhea didn't sleep that night. Couldn't.
Her body was tired, but her mind spun like a top with no brakes. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that smirk her own face, warped by centuries of pain and rage. The shadow wasn't just a memory. It was waiting. Watching.
And it wasn't done.
In the morning, Jace showed up.
Not through the door. Through her mirror.
It shimmered like glass under water, and then he was there stepping through like it was nothing.
"Seriously?" Rhea snapped. "Do doors not work for you people?"
Jace smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked pale. Hunted. Like he hadn't slept either.
"We need to talk. Privately."
Isaac was downstairs. Rhea could feel the tension in the air just from mentioning Jace's name — like their very energies repelled each other.
"Talk," she said.
He didn't waste time.
"Your soul isn't just cursed, Rhea. It's anchored."
She blinked. "What does that mean?"
"It means someone a bloodline, maybe even a lover tied your soul to this realm. Every time you die, you reincarnate because they want you to. Because they need something from you."
Rhea felt the ground shift beneath her. Her knees went weak.
"Who?" she breathed.
Jace looked away. And that silence said everything.
"You know."
"No," he said slowly. "You do."
That night, Rhea went back into the Veil.
She didn't mean to.
She just… blinked. And suddenly, the stars above her winked out like candles snuffed by a hand.
The Veil welcomed her this time. Like it had been waiting.
And so was she.
The shadow stood in front of a grave. Rhea's name was etched into the stone — but the date of death was tomorrow.
"You're not asking the right question," the shadow whispered.
Rhea's voice trembled. "Then what's the right one?"
The shadow leaned in.
"Not who cursed you.But who keeps bringing you back."