As twilight draped the thistle forest in lavender hues, a sudden chill swept across the clearing. Flowers shivered. Beetles burrowed. Even the fireflies dimmed their glow.
Then—click, click, click—the unmistakable gait of a Praying Mantis echoed through the hollow trees.
She had returned.
Perched atop a dandelion stalk, cloaked in iridescent green and gold, the Enchantress Mantis surveyed the castle of thorns with a frown in her multifaceted eyes.
“The curse was not meant to bend,” she hissed, her antennae flicking in irritation. “Love is not a loophole.”
Inside the castle, Bella sensed a disturbance. The petals of the rose in the dome had turned a bruised purple.
The Beast paced the stone floor. “She’s here.”
Bella didn’t flinch. “Let her come.”
Suddenly, the castle shook. A storm of silk and shadow coiled through the great hall, and there she stood—taller, darker, her limbs sharpened with judgment.
“You dare try to undo my spell with… affection?” the Mantis roared.
Bella stood her ground. “We’ve undone it with understanding.”
The Enchantress raised a claw.
But something was different. Her power trembled.
Was she—jealous?
The final confrontation was about to begin.
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