Epilogue

  Faelwen

  3 months later

  The sound of wailing broke through the silence of the night.

  Azren.

  I knew that cry now; a sharp, hungry cry. With a tired breath, I rolled onto my side, nudging Spook where he lay sprawled over me, his arm heavy across my ribs, his leg anchoring mine.

  “Spook,” I whispered.

  Nothing but the slow, even rise and fall of his breathing answered me. I sighed and carefully slid from beneath his weight. He grunted in protest, half-awake, his fingers curling around my waist as if to pull me back into the warmth we shared.

  “No, Spook,” I murmured gently, prying his arm away. “I’ve got to check on Azren.”

  Another disgruntled sound, then he turned onto his side, surrendering to sleep once more.

  I reached for my robe, squinting as my eyes struggled against the dark. The room lay drowned in shadow, save for a thin ribbon of moonlight spilling across the wooden door. Still night, then.

  The floor bit cold against my bare feet as I crossed the room, arms outstretched like a blind pilgrim. My shoulder slammed into the wardrobe with a dull thud.

  “Hells—” I hissed, clutching the ache as it bloomed, then forced myself onward.

  The hallway beyond was no kinder, only faintly lit by the dying embers of the fireplace from the living room. Two doors stood silent in the dark. One at the end of the small hallway and one in front of me. I crossed the narrow space and pushed open the door to my son’s room.

  His cry came again.

  The soft carpet muffled my steps as I entered, my eyes finally adjusting to the dark.

  I froze.

  A figure stood beside the crib.

  Tall. Dark. Wrong.

  My breath caught, my blood turning to ice. I’d had seen this figure many times before.

  The Fiend bent over Azren, lifting him with impossible gentleness, rocking him slowly as though the motion were instinct rather than learned. Azren’s cries faded into quiet hiccups, his small hands clutching the fabric wrapped around him as he gazed up with, wide shadowed eyes.

  “Put him down,” I said, my voice steady despite the terror clawing at my spine.

  He didn’t look at me.

  “I won’t harm him, Faelwen,” he replied calmly. “I only wished to see him.”

  “How are you even here?” My teeth ground together, every muscle tight. How could he be here in the first place? The ley-lines were broken by Artemis. But here he was with my child. My child in his arms. The air felt heavy, like the anticipation before the drop.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “The ley-lines may be broken,” he said, swaying Azren softly, “but my soul still travels, like yours. It’s tethered. To this place… somehow.”

  “Because you claimed my soul?” I spat, anger flaring.

  A shrug. Almost careless.

  “I don’t know. I barely understand it myself. But I heard him crying. And I felt compelled to come.”

  “He is mine,” I said, heat flaring in my chest. “Mine and Ash’s. You will not come near him again.”

  The strength in my voice surprised even me. Fear still coiled in my gut, but beneath it burned something older.

  A mother’s fire. A lioness protecting her cub.

  “Ash…” he murmured, as if the name alone left a bitter taste in his mouth. Slowly – so slowly – he lowered Azren back into the crib.

  The moment his hands left my son, the fear vanished. Like a spell breaking, I rushed forward, hands shaking as I checked Azren from head to toe. Skin warm, breath steady. No mark upon him. He was okay.

  Relief left me weak and careless. I turned, fury sharpening my words.

  “Leave.”

  He did not laugh. Did not sneer. Even though I expected this from him. He looked… tired. Defeated in a way I had never seen before.

  Then he moved. Fast as lightning. His hand shot out, fingers closing around my throat with crushing ease.

  Air vanished from my lungs as he lifted me from the floor like I weighed nothing at all. My hands clawed uselessly at his wrist.

  His face remained calm, but his eyes burned.

  “Do not keep him from me like your mother did with you, Faelwen,” he hissed.

  My heart thundered wildly. My vision blurred.

  “Remember who I hold now,” he continued, “Your beloved Ash. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, now would we?” His grip tightened. “You doomed the Underworld, but I will save it. I will find a way. And when I do…” His jaw clenched, fury contained only by sheer will. “You will regret what you and your friends have done to me.”

  He dropped me.

  I hit the floor hard, collapsing to my knees, gasping as my lungs burned. Azren sensed my distress and began to cry again. The Fiend bent over the crib once more, shushing him softly.

  “It’s alright, my boy,” he murmured. “Shh… don’t cry.”

  He picked up a small wooden figurine from the floor and placed it beside Azren, as if to comfort him with it.

  Tears stung my eyes as I struggled to breathe. When I looked up again, he was staring at me, hands gripping the crib’s edge tightly, his knuckles white. Two black voids fixed on my soul.

  ? ? ?

  With a gasp, I opened my eyes.

  My heart hammered violently, my body trembled. I fumbled through the dark. Familiar shapes grounded me; the bed, the room and Spook beside me muttering in his sleep.

  I lifted a shaking hand to my throat. It felt bruised and tender. That was no dream. My soul had wandered again. And his soul had found mine… just as before.

  A thought shot through me.

  Azren!

  Panic tightened my throat and I was on my feet in an instant. Stumbling through the dark, my shoulder slammed into the wardrobe in the same cursed place as before. Pain flared, again.

  “Mother of hells!” I cursed.

  Behind me Spook stirred.

  “Faelwen?”

  I didn’t answer as I swiftly continued my way to Azren’s room. I threw open the door, scanning the room.

  Moonlight washed over the quiet space. Azren slept peacefully in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling. Carved wooden figurines lay scattered across the carpet.

  I stumbled to Azren’s crib and my breath caught.

  Beside Azren lay a single wooden figurine.

  A wolf.

  The one I recently carved from memory. It was crude and uneven, but still recognizable as a wolf. I had tried to create Artemis.

  “Faelwen? Are you alright? Is Azren…”

  “He’s okay,” I breathed, lifting the figurine and letting it fall from my trembling fingers. “He’s okay.”

  My fingers tenderly brushed Azren’s forehead. Spook wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me close. His face nuzzled in my neck.

  “Herdus’ beard, little fox. You scared me half to death.”

  He smiled down at Azren from over my shoulder.

  “He’s going to have a carefree childhood. I swear it. He won’t lose it like we did.”

  He kissed my temple. I nodded, unable to speak, the weight of dread still settled deep in my bones.

  Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay. I repeated in my head like a prayer. Reluctantly I let Spook lead me back to bed, looking over my shoulder one last time at our sleeping, little one.

  Azren.

  The end.

  For now…

  Thank you so much for reading!

  -------------------------------------------------

  Release date volume 3:

  Volume 3 Ashes of the Dark

  6th of February 2026

  Don’t forget to follow if you want a reminder for the next chapter??

  Want to know more about volume 3?

  Synopsis:

  Is it?

  Is what you believe…

  Ashes of the Dark is a haunting conclusion to The Mid Realm Chronicles—a story of love and loss, legacy and sacrifice, and the fragile line between salvation and damnation.

  What remains…

  when the darkness within refuses to die?