The Perfect 509_The sickened luna’s last chance

“I know.” She brushed a strand of hair from my face. “I know, sweetheart.”

 For a long moment, I just stared at her. I wanted to wake up, wanted this all to be just a very bad dream. I had spent two decades of my life not knowing my mother. I’d spent so long not realizing that she was right there, beside me, unable to tell me her identity because of that fucking curse.

 That curse was broken now. Finally, after all this time, it was broken and we could know each other again. I was reunited with my mother… for what? For her to be taken from me a few monthster?

 My jaw clenched. “I wish I never broke the curse,” I whispered. “I want you toe back. Again.” 

 Her face softened. “I already came back to life. I got a second chance that most people don’t get. And I used it to save my grandson. I’m ready now. It’s time.” She looked out at the sea of souls. “I’m ready to move on now.”

 I stared at her profile. She was smiling, as if the skin on the back of her neck wasn’t mottled with burns. As if her final moments in the living realm hadn’t been fucking agony.

 Suddenly, I felt the crystal pulse in my chest. My mother’s smile grew, and she looked at me. Looked at it.

 “Help me pass on,” she whispered, as if she knew what I had already done once.

 The crystal pulsed as if in answer, and I felt it immediately. That same sensation I’d felt with Maria. The pull. The warmth. The knowledge that I could absorb her soul and help her move on.

 But this was my mother. My mom.

 “I can’t,” I said. “I can’t do that to you.”

 “Yes, you can.” She took my hands in hers. “I want this, E. I’m choosing this.”

 “But if I absorb your soul, you’ll be gone forever. You won’t be able to—”

 “I’ll be at peace,” she interrupted. “That’s all I want. To rest. To be done with all of this pain and suffering and fighting. Please, E. Let me go.” 

 I looked at her face. At the woman who had given birth to me. Who had died, ripped away from me when I was just a baby. The woman who came back and never left, even when the odds were stacked against her.

 She was tired. I could see it in her eyes.

 “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”

 She smiled. “Thank you.” 

 We embraced one final time. I held her as tightly as I could, trying to memorize the way she felt. The way she smelled. The sound of her voice whispering soft words in my ear. 

 Then, I opened myself to the crystal.

 The warmth spread through my chest immediately. The crystal pulsed, and my mother’s body began to glow just like Maria’s had. Soft and golden.

 “I love you,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of you, E. You’re stronger than you know.”

 “I love you, too,” I choked out.

 Her body dissolved into particles of light. They swirled around me for a moment, dancing in the air like fireflies. Then, they absorbed into my chest one by one.

 The warmth filled me again. My mother’s memories flickered through my mind. Her childhood. Meeting Richard. Her wedding

 +25 Bonus

 day. My birth. Her death. Her rebirth. Everything that came after. Fire. A baby boy.

 And finally, at the very end, eptance.

 She was gone.

 I sank to my knees on the cold stone and sobbed. The sea of souls screamed below, but I didn’t care. I just knelt there and cried until I had nothing left.

 By the time I woke again, the hospital room was dark. I blinked slowly, trying to orient myself. My chest felt heavier and warmer. I pressed my hand to my heart and drew in a shuddering breath.

 Just then, movement in the corner of the room caught my attention. I turned my head to see the tall silhouette of a male figure standing in the darkness.

 “Alexander?” I whispered, stretching my hand out. “Is that you?”

 “No, dear,” the voice responded. It was deeper, gruffer, older. Not Alexander at all.

 My breath caught as the figure stepped into the light of the monitor beside my bed. I saw a face sneering at me like the devil

 himself.

 My father.

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 Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icyndscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of d’s breathtaking cold.

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The Perfect 509