I sat on the edge of the bed, swinging my legs while Maribelle finished the st of the stitches on my abdomen. I’d once again found myself staring at the same bnk white walls and breathing the same antiseptic air of the arena’s clinic again. Less than twenty-four hours since the st visit.

  The remains of Maribelle’s threads retracted from my skin and faded out of existence as she deactivated her Aspect. Having her strings crawl around inside my body was becoming such a common occurrence that it’d started to tickle. Sort of. Still gross.

  I twisted my torso and rolled my shoulders. Carefully. Testing how much I could move without popping the new stitches. They tugged tight with every breath. It wasn’t agonizing, but a constant, nagging sting that reminded me they were there. Movement was possible. Comfortable movement was not.

  Maribelle’s healing... It’s a little... different, I suppose. She’s not really fixing anything since she can’t use Magic. She’s just closing the wounds and kicking my regeneration into overdrive. It’s already stupidly fast, so she just makes it faster. The only cost is my dignity.

  But... [The Loom]. I feel like she’s only showing me the surface of what it does. Maybe I should ask her about it ter? I need to know how Aspects work. When I get mine, it’s going to be stupid powerful. I just know it. I’ll pair it with my [Detonation] technique, and nobody will ever even come close to beating me again!

  My legs swung harder, until my heels began knocking against the bedframe.

  Gods, I hate this room.

  “Can I go now?” I asked the second Maribelle finished working on my abdomen and walked over to grab something from a nearby cabinet. It’d been almost an hour, and I was still stuck in this stupid bed.

  “No.”

  I whined and threw myself backwards onto the bed—immediately regretting it. Pain shot through my body. A tiny squeal snuck past my lips that I hoped she didn’t catch. “Mari, I’m gonna miss everything! I said I was gonna watch Rheya fight. And the ceremony’s right after. If I’m not there, everyone’s gonna think I’m dead.”

  Maribelle returned, yanked me upright, and started wrapping bandages around my torso. “I’ll let you go in a minute if you rex. Now stop fussing and sit still.”

  “Hmph.” I dramatically folded my arms and twisted my head away from her, making sure my nose was turned up to maximize the effect. The motion pulled at my stitches. I ignored it.

  “That won’t work on me, dear,” she said, while she continued wrapping. “Your little act only works on your mother.”

  My brows squirmed. Having my most effective technique resisted more than once was unprecedented. Only Cedric had managed it before.

  “Whatever.” I’ll have to come up with something else for Mari.

  She finished my midsection and switched her attention to the big gash in my arm. But not before she poked and prodded at every single cut, scrape, and bruise before she got there.

  “Such a waste,” she muttered while examining my arm. It felt less like medicine and more like being a doll in her hands. “Women everywhere would kill for beautiful skin like yours, and here you are messing it up on purpose.”

  She leaned in until her dark, sleepy eyes were level with mine. “You’ve got a big hole in you.” Her voice dropped. “You could have died. And for what reason? Why couldn’t you protect yourself?”

  “I won. I’m a winner.” I answered, poking her gsses with my free hand to get her face away from mine, leaving two big smudges on each lens. Looking into her eyes always creeps me out.

  Maribelle relented, taking off her gsses and wiping them with her coat. “Yes... You did. You’re the winner. But that’s not what I asked, dear.”

  “I—”

  “Nevermind,” she cut in before I could answer.

  The door opened. I froze. My legs swung to a stop.

  Elira stood in the doorway.

  She stared at my stomach. On the bandages. On the faint discoloration bleeding through the fabric. She didn’t step in. Didn’t speak. One hand stayed on the wooden doorframe, crushing it under her grip. She stood there, not saying anything for way too long.

  “Siste—uh, um... Mom.” I eventually blurted into the silence, trying to get her to calm down before she could get any ideas to punish me.

  Maribelle kept working, completely ignoring Elira. She stood there gring while the room slowly filled with her angry presence as green Aura faintly wisped off her skin.

  “I’m just finishing with her. Give me a second.” Maribelle said without turning. She pulled the st bandage around my arm way tighter than necessary. “Alright! All done, kiddo.” She patted my thigh, then ruffled my already mangled hair. “Good luck.”

  She hummed as she briskly exited the room, leaving me alone with Elira as she loomed in the doorway.

  Fuck. Why did she just fucking leave me here alone with her? That damn woman, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Worst. Aunt. Ever.

  Elira’s cheek twitched before distorting into a full-on crooked scowl that she id on me. “Are you—” she began, breaking the silence, barely above a whisper. “You’re okay now, right? Honey?”

  Her voice and words didn’t match her expression at all.

  Whoa... Am I in trouble? Is she gonna kill me? Do I really die here? What should I say? Can I even say anything? This is Elira after all. And her face—what’s with that look? I shouldn’t say anything. I’ll just sit here. No. I can’t, I need to escape. But can I? Maybe I ca—

  Elira stepped toward me while I was scrambling through a dozen escape pns in my head. The sudden movement made me flinch and tense up—and then little scarred arms wrapped around me before I could process it.

  My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

  She’d somehow managed to make the hug as awkward as possible. It was careful. Overly careful, like she was afraid she’d break me or something. Or maybe afraid she might break.

  My thoughts crumbled, I stiffened, unsure what to do with my hands. I’d never refuse a hug from Elira, but this felt... different. I had no idea what she was thinking, so my hands just hovered above her back for a few seconds as I tried to reorganize my thoughts.

  Then I hugged her back. As hard as I could manage without tearing my wounds open.

  She was soft, warm, and smelled woodsy, like she always had. I could easily bury my face in her chest for all eternity, but this time she was shaking. Just a little. And her heartbeat was fast beneath my cheek.

  “Mama.” The word came out muffled. I hadn’t pnned to say something like that, as I usually would. But it slipped out, all on its own.

  Her breathing stopped.

  Then it stuttered back in with a tiny, shaky gasp.

  “Luna,” she spoke in a whisper near my ear. “I thought—” She stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. “I was worried.”

  I squeezed her harder. The stitches screamed in protest, pulling tight enough that I felt one about to tear. I didn’t care. She squeezed back and rubbed circles between my shoulder bdes, as she used to—nightmares, scraped knees, all of it.

  “I’m fine,” I said. My face was dug into her chest, and my voice came out muffled. “I promise.”

  “You can’t die before me,” she responded softly, moving her hand to stroke the back of my head. She held her breath, then cutely giggled. “If you die before me, I’ll just die too. Then I’ll come find you in the afterlife so I can spank you.”

  “Elira,” I huffed. “I’m not gonna die.”

  “I’m just letting you know, sweetie.”

  The tension inside me eased. Just enough that I could breathe easy again. Phew. I survived. That was scary. She scared me. I really thought she’d kill me here.

  She released the hug and pulled back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. She held me just far enough that she could look at me, but close enough that I could still feel her warm breath on me. Her hands slid down, her fingers brushed along the edges of my bandages. Then my bruises. Then they moved and found their way to my cheeks.

  “You fought.” She cupped my face between her palms, squishing my cheeks as she brought me closer. “And you won.”

  I tried to nod, but only made the squish worse, so I settled for pcing my hands on top of hers. “Yahh,” was the only noise my squished mouth managed.

  We held each other’s gaze, speaking in a silent conversation that only we understood.

  “I keep telling myself I made you strong so you’d survive,” Elira said at st. Her voice trembled, on the edge of a sob. “But I’m a hypocrite.”

  “I held you back,” she continued, as her eyes turned gssy. “I kept Maribelle away. I didn’t teach you more. I didn’t tell you everything—about your cores—because I was afraid.” Her lips quivered. “Afraid that if you knew, you’d walk straight into danger.”

  This is new. Elira, admitting uncertainty. Feels scarier than her anger.

  I said her name quietly and reached up, catching her wrists before they could wander again. “Elira. Stop. I’m alright. Really.”

  She hesitated, but her fingers moved anyway, brushing along another bruise. Then she pulled back, hands curling into tight balls at her side. “You’re out there now,” she said. Her voice wobbled. “In the world. And you keep coming back like this.” She swallowed. “Every time I see it, I hate myself, I think—was I wrong?”

  I leaned in until our foreheads touched. My torso burned with the movement. “I came back,” I said. “That has to mean something.”

  She closed her eyes. Her shoulders sagged. “...Yes,” she breathed. “It does.”

  I kept my head to hers, refusing to let go of her wrists. It felt like she would colpse if I wasn’t holding her together. “Besides,” I said, forcing a small grin, “I’m really strong, you know.”

  Her chest jumped as she let out a tiny ugh. “I know.” She slipped a hand free and began to run her fingers through my hair, twirling the strands between her thumb and forefinger.

  “You weren’t supposed to be,” she admitted. “Not like this. I tried to slow you down. I tried to keep you small.” She sighed. “That failed spectacurly, didn’t it?” She looked into my eyes with a serious expression. “You grew into a big ass stubborn girl and went and got strong all on your own.”

  I tilted my head. “Elira?”

  She smiled then. A soft and certain smile, something she rarely wore these days. “You became the strongest kid in the whole world.”

  My eyes widened. “That’s a little dramatic—”

  “No.” Elira’s voice was gentle but certain. “It isn’t.”

  Her hand pressed ft over my chest, right above my heart. “Not just because of your cores. Or your talent—though gods know you have more of that than anyone should.”

  Her fingers slid down my chest and pushed off. “It’s because you never stop moving forward. Because you fall, get hurt, get scared—and then you get back up anyway. You learn faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, not by sitting still, but by throwing yourself into the world and daring it to keep up.”

  She plopped down on the bed beside me. “You fight like fighting is living.”

  I grabbed her hand and ced our fingers together. “Yeah! I like using my strength; fighting is so fun.”

  She ughed at my enthusiasm, then looked down at our interlocked hands. “I tried to protect you by holding you back. Yet look at you, beating up all these adults, and you’re not even seventeen yet.” A quiet, incredulous ugh slipped out. “I don’t think I could have stopped you. Even if I tried.”

  I leaned in carefully, resting my head on her shoulder. The stitches held. She wrapped an arm around me and pulled us into another hug. This one was different. Firmer. Certain. Her arms didn’t waver, didn’t shake.

  “I’m sorry and—I’m proud of you. More than I’ve ever been before.” Her grip tightened. “M-my daughter.”

  My eyes went hot, my throat clenched. “Say it again.”

  She pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were definitely wet now, but still steady. “Luna. My daughter.” She smiled and gently wiped at my face with her fingers.

  “Mama!” I didn’t even think. I lunged forward, wrapping myself around her. We tipped sideways, both of us ughing as she caught her bance. I nuzzled my face back and forth into her colr. “Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama... I love you, Mama.”

  I stayed there. Long enough for the room to go quiet again. Long enough for our heartbeats to slow.

  When I finally pulled back, she was pinned under me, still smiling—but her eyes weren’t so heavy anymore. She’d finally let down all the weight her emotions had been loading onto her.

  I leaned down and kissed her cheek. A quick, shy peck. Something I’d never done before. I pulled back immediately, pretending like it was no big deal even though my heart was pounding. “Don’t get used to it,” I warned, pointing at her face before she could say anything stupid. “I’m still me.”

  She ughed and covered her mouth with her hand. “You always were.”

  I leaned in one more time, resting my forehead against hers. “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you more,” she replied, wiping away the rest of the wetness beneath my eyes with her thumbs. “Go,” she said. “Celebrate with your friends. You earned it.”

  I nodded, then hesitated. “I’m not staying in the dorms tonight.”

  Her brow lifted slightly.

  “I’m coming home,” I added quickly. “Just... after. Okay?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you ter, sweetie.”

  I grabbed my armor, jumped off the bed, winched in pain, and turned for the door. I was already halfway out when somebody grabbed my arm and quickly threw me back onto the bed.

  “Luna... Absolutely not,” Elira said ftly, scanning me up and down. “You are not running into a public hallway dressed like that.”

  I inspected myself.

  Let’s see. Shoes? Check. Pants? Check. Bandages? Check. Top? Missing.

  I’d forgotten that Maribelle had already cut it off as soon as I stepped into the clinic room. “...Oh, yeah. Whoops.”

  She dragged her palm down her face and sighed. “You were about to sprint out here like that?”

  “I forgot. I was emotional,” I protested weakly.

  She rifled through the cabinet and found a spare cotton shirt, then shoved it into my arms. “Put this on first. Then go.”

  I grinned as I pulled it over my head. “See, mama? Still my impregnable guardian.”

  She chuckled and spped my ass before pushing me toward the door. “Someone has to do it.”

  I turned back before walking out. She was watching me with her proud emerald eyes. “Be careful.”

  “I can’t promise that!” I darted out into the corridor. Her voice sputtered behind me as I smmed the door in her face.

  Maribelle was leaning against the wall just outside the door, arms crossed beneath her chest, very obviously failing to pretend she hadn’t heard that entire exchange.

  Her eyes met mine. I didn’t need to say anything, and I was still slightly angry at her. I mouthed thank you anyway, though my glower probably ruined it.

  She waved me off as I passed, but I caught the twitch at the corner of her mouth.

  Then I took off down the corridor and toward the distant roar of the arena, growing louder with every step.