Chapter 48
Shadows brushed against the floor like restless animals, stirred by thoughts Ashterion hadn’t spoken aloud.
“She shouldn’t have them.” Elowyn’s tone was sharp.
“The human is dangerous,” he said, voice low. “Letting her walk unbound in the Luceren Court is a risk. Xyliria knew that.”
He didn’t say what he wanted to. What he couldn’t. Not in front of them.
“And what’s the plan?” Across the chamber, Merrick paced back and forth. “We kill her before she loses control?”
Elowyn didn’t flinch. “I’m not advocating for it,” she said, the words brittle with restraint. “But letting Xyliria hold dominion over shadow fire? That would be worse. We’ve seen what she does with less.”
“We’re not killing anyone just because of what their power might become,” Merrick growled.
Ashterion’s gaze flicked to him. He understood Merrick’s reaction—understood it too well—but he didn’t have the energy to soothe it. Not tonight.
“We’re not killing her,” he said.
Merrick’s shoulders eased a fraction, until Ashterion added, “Not unless we have to.”
That stopped the room.
“We need answers.” Ashterion straightened slowly. “That fire should’ve died out centuries ago. So why is it inside her? Why now? Why her?”
“And if Xyliria breaks her before we find out?” Elowyn asked.
His answer was immediate. “I won’t let that happen.”
Neither Elowyn nor Merrick argued, but the weight of their doubt settled thick in the air.
Ashterion turned to face them fully. “You both need to stay in the city. Lay low.”
Merrick’s jaw tensed. “Ash—”
“I’m not asking. If this unravels, someone needs to keep the court from falling apart. Only come to the castle if it’s urgent. Tell Xyliria whatever you need to—trade negotiations, merchant interference, travel delays. Lie. Stay away.”
They bristled but nodded.
Ashterion watched the two of them—Elowyn rigid as steel, Merrick tight with silent fury—and felt the weight of the moment press deeper into his ribs.
Elowyn didn’t linger. She turned on her heel and strode from the room, her cloak flaring behind her.
Merrick stayed.
He always did.
The silence between them pulsed with unspoken things.
“You’re not seriously considering killing the female,” Merrick’s glare was sharp enough to cut through bone.
“If she’s a threat, we might not have a choice.”
Merrick took a step forward, running a hand through his hair. “Stars, Ash. I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore.”
“What would you have me do?”
“I don’t know,” Merrick snapped. “How about telling Xyliria no?”
Ashterion laughed. Cold. Joyless. “Right. Because that’s going to end well. That’ll go over brilliantly for all of us.”
The gemstone at the centre of Merrick’s forehead flared, a bright pulse of magic in tune with his temper. “It’s better than letting her break someone who didn’t ask to be dragged into this bullshit.”
Ashterion’s fists clenched and unclenched. The shadows at his feet writhed, but he inhaled through his nose, trying to stay level.
“She’s in Varyth’s court,” he said tightly. “Wearing his mark. A consort, likely. Do you really believe she’s innocent?”
Merrick softened. “I don’t know what I believe,” he said. “But once upon a time, we would’ve given her a chance. Especially if she’s found herself tied to him.”
Ashterion sighed. He knew Merrick. Had always known him. The bleeding heart buried under all that scar tissue, the maddening, infuriating way he could look at a storm and ask if it could be reasoned with.
But Ashterion pushed it down, as he always did. Flattened the ache in his chest and let steel take its place.
“What’s your point, Merrick?” he asked.
Merrick gaped at him. “My—what the fuck do you mean ’what’s my point?’” His voice cracked on the words. “Xyliria’s either going to break her, or you’re going to kill her, or what—she ends up back in that court? With him? Those are her options? Don’t you see how fucked up that is?”
“I can’t run around protecting every fool who wanders into the path of Varyth or my wife.
” Ashterion shifted, spine stiff. “I’ve told you I’ll do what I must. Your priority is the city.
I can’t set foot there without raising suspicion, so do your fucking job.
Go back. And let me handle this as I see fit. ”
Merrick looked ready to argue again. His mouth opened, but then the shadows surged. They flared from Ashterion’s feet, licking up the walls, casting the room in jagged darkness.
Merrick shut his mouth. Spun on his heel. And stormed out.
Ashterion didn’t move until the echo of his footsteps had long faded.
Only then did he exhale and lean back against the wall, bracing himself with a hand that trembled slightly. The stone was cool against his spine.
His shadows curled around him. And for a moment they were quiet.
Then they began to sing.
A low, haunting melody wove from the dark. Familiar and not. They had sung it the other night, too—some whispering, aching tune he didn’t recognise. Beautiful in a way that made his heart thud in an entirely unwelcome rhythm.
He’d hummed back that night. Absently. Some half-remembered ballad about a fool of a leader who tried to rebuild a broken kingdom, only to lose his entire family in the end. But the shadows had gone and woven the two songs together. His tragedy, their longing, and made it into something new.
Something dangerously hopeful.
They danced across his skin now, vibrating with the tune. Threading through him. Trying, he knew, to soothe him.
He closed his eyes. Let the notes curl under his ribs.
He wouldn’t kill her.
Gods, he wished he could.
It would be easier. Cleaner.
But he couldn’t.
Fuck.