AT DAWN MALEFICENT AWOKE TO A SEARING PAIN IN HER BACK. Groaning, she shook her head. She felt groggy and fuzzy, and she shook it once more, trying to make the odd feeling disappear. But as her head cleared, the pain returned twofold. Looking at where Stefan had been, she saw that he was gone. And then, reaching over her shoulders, she found that her wings were gone, too. All that remained was a long, thin cauterized wound where they used to be. On the ground nearby lay an iron chain, a few black feathers stuck to the links.

Shock and horror filled Maleficent as she realized what had happened. That she had been betrayed. That Stefan had taken her wings. That he had lied. Stolen her heart and her wings. As grief overtook her, she let out an anguished cry. Why? she screamed silently. Why would he do this to me? Dropping her head into her hands, she began to sob. For she knew the answer. She had known it deep inside all along. Stefan loved his world, loved his kind, more than he could ever love her. He had taken her wings to prove to that wretched King Henry that he was loyal, even though it meant being disloyal to her.

How had she been so blind? Humans had killed her parents. Humans had attacked her home time and time again. A human had ruined her chance at a happy life. She should have listened to Robin. Humans were not to be trusted. She had led them here by befriending one, and now she was paying the price. She didn’t deserve to live here with the others.

In that moment, a part of her died. The part that believed in joy, hope, and peace. The part of her that believed in love. That part was gone forever. Stefan had seen to that.

“I have avenged you, sire,” Stefan announced over a wheezing King Henry. Stefan was happy he wasn’t too late. Pulling open his sack, he revealed Maleficent’s flapping wings. Henry stared up at him, amazed.

“She is vanquished. You have done well, son,” he murmured. “You have done what others feared to do. You will be rewarded.”

Stefan beamed. He’d finally done it. He’d overcome his status as a poor orphan to become something great. “I shall do my best to be a worthy successor, Your Majesty.”

“Successor? You?” Henry gaped at him in surprise.

“As by your edict.”

The king allowed himself a throaty laugh. “You? Your blood is not worthy. You are a servant, nothing more. I don’t even know your name!”

The king continued to laugh heartily, which became a series of coughs.

Stefan turned, unable to believe what he was hearing. He had not done the unthinkable to be turned away now. He walked swiftly to the other side of the bed and stood over the king. Enraged, Stefan picked up a pillow and forced it over the king’s head.

“I’m called Stefan.”