In the Hall of Echoes, Ava stood at the edge of a map etched into the floor, Across from her, stood Lucien Vale.
"The Hollow Marshes, Buried under centuries of superstition, exile, and blood magic. That's where you'll get answers."
Ava's fingers trembled at her sides. "Where is this place and what makes you so sure?"
Lucien met her gaze. "Because that's where your grandmother disappeared to before giving birth to your mother in the human world. The last known Valkara Witcher walked willingly into that cursed land. If there's any record of her… or what she tried to protect you from… it's there."
Dante's growl echoed across the room. "Absolutely not. The road leading to it are dead zones for anyone with a pulse. I've lost warriors to that fog—witches, shifters, even vampires. She's not ready."
Ava turned to him, her voice firmer than it had ever been. "I have to be. You've seen what I can do when I lose control. I need to know the truth about what's in me. About who I am."
Dante's jaw clenched. "Then I'm coming with you."
Lucien stepped forward, cutting in. "You can't. The Hollow Marshes is an ancient place. As a Lycan wolf you can't enter there without being permitted their magic reacts violently to Lycans—especially dominant ones. Her presence alone will be a strain. Yours could ignite war."
He stepped in front of her, his eyes glowing. "You're not going alone. Not all the way."
She offered him a soft smile. "You can't follow me into the marshes. You know that."
"I can take you as far as the bloodstone gate," he said. "After that… I wait."
They left just before dawn, Ava stood by the stone gate of Umbra. The streets behind her were still asleep, but she knew eyes were watching. The Council had not been subtle in their disapproval.
Lucien waited at the base of the trail, mounted on a horse. "The sooner we leave," he said, "the less chance someone tries to stop you."
Dante stood beside her, He hadn't let go of her hand since she told him she was going.
"You don't have to go," he said quietly, eyes locked on hers. "We can sort this ourselves."
"I don't even know who I am, Dante," she said. "I don't understand my magic, I don't understand why I'm the Lunar Key—why everyone either fears me or worships me. If there's even a chance the Marshes have answers… I have to go."
His jaw clenched. "Then I'm going as far as I can."
At midday, they stopped by a creek to rest. Dante handed her a water flask, watching her carefully.
"You're quiet," he said.
Ava hesitated. "I know I put up a brave front when we were about leaving but the truth is I am afraid."
"Of what?"
She looked down. "I already know what I am but what if we go there and it is bigger than what we already know. What if the council are wrong and I am more dangerous than expected, What if I do more harm than good."
Dante moved closer. "Whatever you are, Ava… you're still my mate. Who fights even when everything's burning. Who makes me feel—" He exhaled sharply. "Like I'm not alone, I'd still love you no matter the outcome."
By dusk, the trees thinned, and the land began to change. The fog was heavier here.
Lucien dismounted. "This is where I stop."
Ava stared ahead. Beyond the rise, the Hollow Marshes began.
A silver stone stood at the edge of the trail, Moss had grown over most of it, but the meaning was clear: Only blood may enter. Only truth may return.
She swallowed.
Her mother had grown up far from this world. Her grandmother had been here and left. And now here she was—on the edge of it all. The girl with power she barely understood. The Lunar Key.
Dante dismounted and held her hand as she slid down beside him. Neither spoke for a long time.
She stared at the gate, heart pounding. "This is it."
"You go through," he said, voice low, "and I stay here."
Ava turned to him. "If I don't come back—"
He shook his head. "Don't say that."
"I have to," she said, stepping closer. " I know in the beginning I didn't believe in us but they were special, If I don't come back, I want you to remember—everything between us. The moments. The fights. The kisses. All of it."
"I won't forget," Dante said. "But you will come back."
Ava's eyes shimmered with emotion. "You don't know that."
"I do," he whispered. "Because you're Ava Sterling. You don't shy away from trials. You punch it in the teeth and rewrite it."
She laughed softly, Then she leaned in and kissed him.
When they pulled apart, Dante placed something cold into her hand.
A ring. Simple iron, etched with a single crescent.
"It's my father's," he said. "He wore it into every battle. He said it kept him grounded when everything else fell apart."
She curled her fingers around it. "Thank you."
They stood in silence a moment longer.
"I'll be back," she whispered.
"You better be," he said with a smile.
Then, before stepping past the threshold, she turned and kissed him—slow and full of everything she couldn't say.
And with that, she turned to the Marshes and walked forward.