The mirror wouldn't stop whispering.
Even when Amara covered it, even when she left the room entirely—it called to her.
Her name… softly at first. Then louder. Urgent. Pleading.
She stood before it now, breath fogging the surface. A storm cracked outside, lightning illuminating the hallway behind her in flashes. The school was asleep. But the mirror—never slept.
"Amara…"
Her reflection stared back, but the eyes weren't hers. They were darker. Hungrier.
And behind the glass… a nursery. A cradle. A child with eyes like silver moons.
"I'm not your mother," Amara whispered, shaking.
But the child smiled. And behind it, standing in the shadows, was Micah.
Only it wasn't him.
—
She woke up screaming, drenched in sweat.
Selene barged in seconds later, clutching a talisman. "It's happening faster now," she said. "The mirror isn't waiting anymore."
Amara could barely breathe. "Micah… I saw him inside the mirror."
Selene hesitated. "You didn't see Micah. You saw his other self. The one that will be born if this curse completes."
Amara stared at her. "You mean the baby I'm carrying—he's going to become Micah?"
"No." Selene stepped closer. "He'll become what Micah was meant to be… if the curse wins."
—
The next morning, the school buzzed with rumors. Micah had returned to class. Perfectly normal. No sign of fever or magic.
But when Amara passed him in the hallway, he didn't smile. Didn't speak. His eyes, once warm and green, were now clouded silver.
As if someone else was watching through them.
And yet, no one else noticed.
Only Amara.
Only Selene.
—
Later that night, they went back to the Hollow Grove. Selene brought old scrolls, and Amara carried a mirror shard wrapped in cloth.
They sat in a circle of runes.
"We need to sever the bond," Selene said. "Before the child consumes your body."
Amara glanced down at her still-flat stomach. "What if I don't want to kill it?"
"It's not alive, Amara. Not like a human child. It's a reflection. A curse. A demon bound to you through your bloodline."
Lightning flashed overhead. The wind began to howl.
But Amara hesitated.
"What if… there's still a part of me that wants it?" she asked quietly. "A part that feels him… loving me?"
Selene froze. "That's not love. It's manipulation. The curse makes you desire it. That's how it grows."
Amara clenched her fists. "Then why does it feel like Micah is still in there?"
Before Selene could respond, the mirror shard glowed.
A voice echoed from within.
"Because I am."
—
They dropped the shard.
It levitated midair, glowing brighter.
Images flashed—Micah, chained in darkness… calling her name… a figure made of shadows whispering into his ear.
And the child. No longer a baby.
A boy now. Pale, silver-eyed, and smiling with teeth too sharp.
"You will love me, Mother," he said, touching the mirror. "You already do."
Then the mirror exploded.
Amara and Selene awoke in the forest—thrown yards apart. Blood on their faces. The scrolls were gone. The runes were burned into the earth.
And the whispering… had spread.
Now every mirror in the school echoed her name.
Amara.
Amara.
Amara.