Page 147 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors

Quinn gasped, and her body trembled.

It couldn’t be, but there was no denying that where Emrys’s body once lay was a sparkling mirror. An enchanted mirror.

Shock radiated through her.

Vampires became mirrors when they died.

“Destroy it, Quinny,” Jevon said, hovering above her ear. “Destroy his mirror. End him forever.”

Quinnevere Ashelle fought the compulsion with every ounce of her energy, with all her strength and all her soul, but even she was no match for a painting compulsion.

The beast in her chest returned and captured all of her strength. The sound of her heart’s furious beats was the only thing she heard and focused on as she hauled the mirror up with her vampiric strength and hurled it to the floor. As it shattered, she fell to her knees, her glass heart shattering with it.

Slyly, she grasped a piece between her fingers and slipped it into her corset as the mirror shards vanished into the night.

Quinn glanced down at her fingers, which were now stained azure blue—a murderous blue.

Five prophecies were now true. The Mirror of Untamed Terror’s prophecies were written into existence like a curse.

Her feet bore no calluses.

She publicly showed her emotions to all who could see.

She died.

She was a vampire.

And Emrys Avalon was dead.

Quinn’s hair wept a dark indigo color and was coated with her devastation. The curse from Periwinkle was still fully intact even though she was a full-blooded vampire.

Then it hit her: Periwinkle’s six nonsensical words about the vampire motto suddenly made sense.

Vampires were Mirror-Gods, and Peri had been trying to tell Quinn all this time.

With Every Death, We Grow Stronger.