Chapter 76: Dreams Of Enid

Erica’s POV

I dreamed.

Or maybe I remembered. It was hard to tell the difference anymore.

I was standing in a field of flowers I didn't recognize, wearing a dress I'd never owned. The sun was setting, painting everything gold and red, and someone was calling my name.

Not Erica.

Enid.

I turned, and there was a man I'd never met but somehow knew. Dark hair, kind eyes, a smile that made something in my chest warm.

"You're late," I, she, we said.

"I got caught up in the market," he said, taking my hands. "Forgive me?"

"Always."

He kissed me then, and it felt like coming home. Like every lifetime, every death, every moment of pain had been leading to this. To him.

To Edward, I realized. This was Edward, three hundred years ago, before the curse, before the death, before everything went wrong.

"Promise me something," Enid said, and I was saying it too, our voices overlapping. "If something happens to me—"

"Nothing's going to happen—"

"Promise me," she insisted. "If something happens, you won't spend forever trying to fix it. You'll live. You'll be happy. You'll let me go."

Edward, young Edward cupped her face. "I can't promise that."

"Then promise you'll try."

He kissed her again instead of answering. And I felt it, felt her love for him, felt how she knew he'd never keep that promise, felt how she loved him anyway.

Then the sun went dark.

The field turned to ash.

And Enid was dying in Edward's arms, blood on her lips, terror in her eyes, as a vampire lord she'd never met drained her life away while Edward tried to turn her into a vampire but failed.

"No," Edward sobbed. "No, please, stay with me, I can't—"

"Edward," she whispered. "I love you. Remember that. Whatever happens next, I love—"

She died.

And the dream shattered.

I woke up gasping.

I was in a bed. White sheets. Clean bandages. The smell of antiseptic and healing herbs.

The medical wing, I realized. Still at the summit.

"Easy." Caroline's voice, gentle. "You've been out for six hours. Don't try to sit up yet."

Six hours. I blinked, trying to focus. "What happened? Is everyone—"

"Lucien's gone. For now." She helped me sit up slowly, propping pillows behind me. "Whatever you did, it destabilized his physical form enough that he had to retreat. The thralls disappeared with him. The fighting stopped."

Relief flooded through me. "Casualties?"

Her expression darkened. "Seventeen injured. Three dead. Two students and a professor." She paused. "It could've been much worse."

Three people. Three people who'd still be alive if Lucien hadn't come here because of me.

"Don't," Caroline said, reading my face. "Don't take that on. Those deaths are on Lucien, not you. You saved hundreds of lives tonight."

I wanted to believe her. But three families would get news that their children weren't coming home, and it was because I existed.

"Where's Edward?" I asked, needing to change the subject before I drowned in it.

"Healed. Mostly." She gestured toward the corner of the room.

I turned and saw him. He was sitting in a chair by the window, shirt replaced but still stained, watching the sunrise. He looked exhausted in a way I'd never seen before, not physically, but something deeper. Soul-deep.

"He hasn't left," Caroline said quietly. "Not once in six hours. Refused to let anyone else take watch."

My chest tightened. "Can I...?"

"Of course. But Erica—" She touched my arm. "Your mark. You need to see."

I looked down at my wrist.

The mark was still there, but changed. The symbols that had been silver and glowing were now dark, not black, but a deep charcoal gray. Dormant. And the skin around it looked... scarred. Like I'd burned myself from the inside out.

"You used everything," Caroline explained. "Every drop of power you had, plus some you probably didn't. Your mark is exhausted. It might take weeks to recover. Months, even."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning no magic until it heals. Any attempt to use your abilities could kill you." She squeezed my arm gently. "You burned yourself out, Erica. Just like I warned you might."

I stared at the dormant mark. Weeks without magic. Maybe months. Against an enemy who could come back at any time, stronger than before.

I'd made myself helpless.

"It was worth it," I said, but my voice shook.

"I know." Caroline stood. "I'll give you two some privacy. But Erica? What you did tonight, driving Lucien off, saving Lena, that took a kind of courage I've rarely seen. You should be proud."

She left before I could respond.

I sat there for a moment, gathering strength, then carefully slid out of bed. My legs were unsteady, but I made it across the room.

Edward didn't turn when I approached. Just kept staring out the window at the pink and gold sky.

"You were right," I said quietly. "I almost got myself killed."

"But you didn't." His voice was rough. "You saved everyone. Including me."

"You saved me first. Putting yourself between me and Lucien—"

"Wasn't enough." He finally looked at me, and the guilt in his eyes was staggering. "I failed. Again. Just like I always do."

"You didn't fail. I'm alive."

"Because you saved yourself." He stood, and I saw him wince despite his healing. "Three hundred years, Erica. Three hundred years I've been trying to protect versions of you and make you more like me, and every time I fail. Every time you die anyway. Tonight was just... tonight was too close."

I understood then. He wasn't just exhausted. He was terrified. Bone-deep, centuries-old terror that he'd have to watch me die again.

"I had a dream," I said. "While I was out. About Enid. About you and her."

He went very still.