Chapter Sixty-Six
Aelia
The world narrowed to that single monstrous shape.
The Gravecaller tore through the battlefield crushing Light, Shadow, and Night Fae alike.
Its crown of bone sliced through the mist, six eyes burning with eternal rage.
With every beat of its ruined wings, the sky trembled.
Its screech warped the air itself, dark zar twisting every tree and soldier it passed.
Even the Night Fae scattered in its wake. It didn’t fight only for Helroth. It fought for utter chaos.
And I could feel it now, something primal, something ancient stirring deep in my chest. It was as if my blood recognized the creature that had haunted Aetherian nightmares for centuries. The mythical beasts of the Wilds, the ones that lived in children’s bedtime stories, had been reborn.
It’s coming for you. Sol whispered in my mind, low and urgent.
Let it come.
Reign stood at my side, his shadows flaring like a cloak of smoke and vengeance. The Gravecaller shrieked again, and then he turned to me, eyes burning like obsidian stars.
Ready? His question streaked through the cuorem.
Always.
Phantom and Sol soared above us with wings stretched, preparing to strike from above. But the beast was nearly upon us. There would be no time for fire or skyborne assaults. This was ours to finish.
I drew my daggers, the twin blades of infernium vein pulsing with light and shadow.
The tiny specks of the Moirai Shard buried deep within the crystals’ hilts, once dormant, now burned like miniature stars.
It was as if the bond we’d forged in Aekorith had awakened something more powerful within them as well.
Beneath my skin, rais surged like molten gold. Around my ankles, shadows danced like soldiers waiting for orders. And from the center of my chest, something even deeper stirred. Zar, heavy and deadly, and craving blood.
The Gravecaller struck, one massive limb crashing into the ground feet from where we stood, tearing apart rock and root. Its six eyes locked onto mine.
It saw me. It knew me. The child of twilight.
I moved first.
The battlefield disappeared. It was just me and the monster.
Light flared from my hands as I hurled twin blades of pure rais.
Reign’s shadows joined mine mid-air, weaving around the light like ribbons of night.
They struck the creature’s flank, one blade embedding into its leathery hide.
It shrieked, spinning toward us with impossible speed.
Reign launched forward, his nox crackling with raw fury. Phantom’s essence surged through him. His movements were faster, more fluid, more savage. He leapt toward the beast, striking it with a spear of writhing zar. It exploded on contact, black ichor raining down.
But the Gravecaller didn’t fall. No, it reared, roaring so loudly the very ground split at our feet. I cried out, stumbling, hands shooting out to steady myself. A second later, Reign was at my side catching me.
“Together,” he growled, his breath hot against my cheek.
I nodded and lifted the daggers again, the hilts glowing brighter now. They were almost too bright to look at. The bond surged between us. Not just the cuorem, not even just the Tetrum Cordis. Something more.
Give it everything, I whispered through the mystical strands that connected us all.
And we did.
All four of us. Me. Reign. Sol. Phantom.
Rais, nox, and zar collided, woven together through the threads of our bond, pouring into the twin daggers in my hands. The crystals flared, absorbing it all, our power, our rage, our love. They vibrated once, twice, then exploded in light so bright the battlefield turned to day.
I screamed as I hurled both blades with every shred of power in my being.
They flew like meteors, streaking toward the Gravecaller’s center mass, aiming for the largest glowing eye at the center of its skull.
The beast shrieked in fury and pain as the daggers hit, detonating in twin bursts of golden-black fire.
The creature bucked, limbs flailing, wings snapping through the air. The force of the blast threw Reign and me backward, slamming us into the charred earth. I rolled across the ground before I came to a stop, the wind knocked clean from my lungs.
An impossibly long moment of silence followed. Then, a thundering crack, like the sky itself was splitting open.
I pushed up onto one elbow, eyes locked on the Gravecaller. It stood for one endless heartbeat, its eyes wide and shining. Then, it shattered.
Light and shadow broke apart like glass, dissolving into ash, smoke, and the final scream of a nightmare ending at last.
The battlefield went still.
My chest heaved, my heart pounding in my ears as I looked around. Phantom roared above us. Sol's golden fire flickered down like snow.
Raysa, we’d done it. The Gravecaller was dead.
Reign dropped to his knees beside me, pulling me into his arms, his shadows wrapping around us protectively. “You did it,” he gasped, forehead pressed to mine.
“No,” I whispered. “We did it.”
We just sat there, holding each other for a long moment as the entire battlefield lay in stunned silence.
Ash drifted like snow, glowing faintly with dying embers. The Gravecaller was gone. Its monstrous form had dissolved into the soil like it had never existed, but the tremble in my hands said otherwise. The burn behind my eyes. The weight of what we’d done.
Reign helped me to my feet, his fingers tight on mine.
Both of us were still breathless and unsteady, our bond humming with spent power.
All around us, the army slowly gathered again.
Rue and Symon stood shoulder to shoulder, bruised and bloodied but grinning like crazy.
Heaton waved from farther back, leaning on Devin, while Kaelith barked orders to the warriors to regroup wasting no time on emotion.
The battle with that monster may have been won, but the war was far from over.
A slow, deliberate clap suddenly broke the silence, the sound cutting through the battlefield like a blade. More clapping. Measured. Mocking.
Every head turned toward the tree line beyond the battleground.
A tall figure emerged from the misted pines, flanked by glittering Royal Guardians. He walked as though the battle hadn’t touched him. Not a speck of ash or soot mottled his pristine gold-and-white armor. A circlet of glittering platinum sat atop his golden head like a halo forged of lies.
King Elian.
The blood in my veins froze.
“Bravo,” he called, his voice smooth and honeyed, echoing unnaturally far. “A stunning display. Truly. I haven’t seen power like that in my lifetime. I’m not sure I’ve even read of anything like it in Aetherian history.”
“Uncle,” I spat the word like venom.
The earth rumbled beneath our feet as our dragons landed behind us. Reign stepped in front of me instinctively. Phantom growled low in her throat, her tail sweeping defensively. Sol’s heat flared through my back like a warning. All our friends tightened the circle around us.
“What in all the realms is this?” Rue muttered beside me, not even bothering to disguise her shock.
Before I could respond, two figures bound in chains emerged.
Behind Elian, dragged forward by soldiers, were two males I thought I’d never see together. Especially not like this.
King Helroth, his sweeping silver hair tangled and his crown gone, wore a sneer of cold disdain. Even in shackles with one arm missing, he stood tall, like a predator waiting to find a faulty rod in its cage.
And beside him…
Reign’s sharp inhale echoed through our bond. Then Ruhl cursed.
Tenebris.
Despite Reign having severed his father’s blood vow, I could still feel the sliver of dread winding through my mate.
“Ah, both of my sons have come today. How fitting,” Tenebris snarled. “Here for my crown, Ruhl?”
The Shadow Regent remained silent, mouth drawn into a curve, not giving his father anything.
Tenebris was bound and shackled in cuffs that glowed with ancient runes. His head was bowed, obsidian hair falling across his face. But those glowing star-bright eyes lifted to meet ours. He wasn’t broken, and certainly not repentant.
He was just watching and waiting. Much like I imagine my grandsire was doing.
“Gods,” I breathed. “How?”
“How did I manage to capture the Night King, dear niece?” His grin was cold and savage. “Simple. I offered him peace.”
“And you betrayed him, too?”
His shoulders lifted nonchalantly. “War is war, Aelia. There is no price too high to ensure a win.”
But it was the figure that appeared at Elian’s side next that made my stomach truly plummet.
A male in dark Spellbinder robes, the same color as wet ash. His skin was like tarnished iron, coal black eyes and raven hair streaked with silver. His hands glowed faintly, one resting on a gnarled staff. I knew that face. Tharos Dren.
My breath caught.
The first time I’d seen him he was standing beside Helroth, when I’d been imprisoned at Helspire Keep.
He was the one who had bound my powers at my parents’ request all those years ago.
And he was also the one who’d released them at my grandsire’s command, cold and impassive as he watched me scream.
And now, he stood beside King Elian?
“Tharos?” I whispered, stunned. “Why…?”
The dark Spellbinder bowed his head slightly when our gazes met. “Princess.”
“Don’t call her that,” Reign growled, stepping closer.
King Elian smiled faintly, as if he were hosting a court banquet rather than walking onto a battlefield smeared with death. “It’s time to continue our conversation...”