Chapter Two
Skylar Cathal
“Gunnar!” Daxton said as we raced down the Summit steps.
“I’m here,” Gunnar answered, sprinting from the landing to meet us. “Is there word from the mainland?” he asked, looking to me, with Shaw and Castor close behind us.
I paused at Daxton’s side. “Yes.”
“Are the warriors ready?” Daxton asked.
Gunnar smiled, his eyes churning with a hunger for war and blood. “To protect our lands and people? Always. Until our hearts cease to beat, and our lungs can no longer hold breath.”
Daxton gave his general a nod of approval, placing a hand on his shoulder. “To war.”
“To war.” Gunnar grasped the nape of his king’s neck as their brows met in a moment of silence. “Thank the gods, too,” he said, releasing Daxton. “I was beginning to fear we’d scared the evil bitch away and she was too afraid to fight.”
“She has no idea what’s coming for her,” I said.
My phoenix swelled inside me with power, fire crackling along my fingers.
“Good,” Gunnar said, with a nod of approval. “I’m glad we have your firepower behind us.”
Castor came to his brother’s side, sighing before running a hand through his silver hair. “Don’t fan her flames indoors if you can help it. We don’t need her destroying the Summit.”
A deep growl emanated from Shaw as his eyes narrowed at Castor.
“Gods be damned,” Castor huffed, taking a step away from Shaw. “You shifters are far too emotional. I can’t get through a single sentence without you growling or brooding.”
Tendrils of Shaw’s dark hair flowed just above narrowed brows, his silent stare aimed at the silver-tongued prince of Silver Meadows.
“We don’t have time for this.” Daxton stepped between the males, turning to his brother. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Do we have a choice on the timing?” Castor asked.
“No,” I said. “Rhea wouldn’t—”
“I understand,” Castor cut in as he looked to his brother. His sharp mind was likely cycling through a thousand possibilities before he asked, “Are you ready, Dax? You’ve never attempted a jump like this before.”
I turned to my mate, waiting for his reply, caging any drop of dread or doubt behind an iron wall in my soul. I was nervous, but since the veil collapsed and his true powers returned, I knew he could do this.
“Solace and the shifters are under attack. We don’t have a choice.
” Daxton’s voice was steady, leaving no room for question.
“I swore to my mate that her people would be under my protection.” He turned his silver eyes to me, a quiet storm brewing beneath his dark brows.
“Silver Meadows will answer their call for aid.”
My heart leaped at hearing those words.
“I love you,” I said to Daxton through our bond.
He gave me a half-smile as my flames parted, allowing his fingers to lace with mine.
“Love,” he said, voice low with a gravelly edge. “Love is too tame a word for what I feel for you, Spitfire. What I feel would destroy worlds.”
“Are you ready?” he asked aloud, resting his brow against mine.
I drew in a deep breath, forcing my nerves into silence. My people needed their alpha.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Shaw brushed past my shoulder, fronting Gunnar. “There will be mages interwoven between the human soldiers in King Taran’s forces. Along with hunters scattered along the perimeter.”
“Come with me,” Gunnar said, hurrying down the steps. “You’re familiar with their battle formations. My other captains need to know what we’ll be facing.”
Shaw nodded as he and Gunnar sped out the doors.
“Send word to Zola in Aelius,” Daxton said to Castor. “I want her to come with us.”
“On it.” Castor hurried off to a side room, where the magical parchments were kept safe for communication between realms.
Once Castor was out of earshot, I confessed to Daxton, “I don’t know if Shaw will be relieved to hear Zola is coming, or terrified.”
“Would it make a difference?”
“No.” I sighed. “I’m just—”
Daxton looped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, kissing my brow. “I know, Spitfire. But we have no time to spare. When Zola arrives, we need to be ready to teleport into a battle.”
I sighed. “When has time ever been on our side?”
He huffed a laugh. “Never.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you wearing your protective base layer from Idris?”
I pulled the collar of my tunic aside to reveal the scaled fabric beneath. “Check. I did have more questions about how they made this though.”
“Naturally,” Daxton said with a nod before walking me down the hallway on the lower level of the Summit. “Your bow and quiver of arrows?”
“In that odd pocket realm where Valencia is stored.”
Another perk of our bond was that I had access to a magical pocket realm that Daxton created.
Daxton chuckled. “Why do you call it odd?”
“What else would it be?”
“It’s normal to me.”
“Yes, normal to you… How did you even discover it in the first place?”
“Through trial and error.”
I cocked my brow. “What does that mean?”
“When I was younger, my father challenged me to use my gifts to send objects to different places. It took a while, but eventually I was able to create a hiding place for my most valued things.”
“What else do you have hiding in this pocket realm of yours, Dax?”
He paused in the hallway leading to the training grounds, turning to wink at me. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Good gods.” I groaned, rubbing my temple.
He reached for my hand. “Later, Spitfire, I promise I’ll reveal every trinket I have in my pocket realm.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” I said, threading my fingers with his before stepping through the door.
Gunnar was giving commands to the High Fae warriors in preparation for battle. Males and females dressed in Silver Meadows armor with three silver peaks on their shoulders stood ready in battle formation.
There was a spark, a unique sense of energy in the air that stemmed from the pending battle.
Looking out onto the gathered warriors, I couldn’t help the sense of dread pulling at my heart.
Some of them would die today. There was no way around it.
War was now at our doorstep, and on both sides, there would be casualties.
I sent a silent prayer to the Mother and Father above to watch every soul bound to their crossing today.
“We’re ready,” Gunnar said as he approached. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by the steely glare of a warrior. The general of Silver Meadows stood before me with twin battle axes strapped across his back.
Castor came beside us. His lips were pressed into a fine line as his expression hardened. “Let’s not keep the shifters waiting.”
I turned, sensing Shaw’s presence along the tree line. “Ready to go home?”
He nodded, shadows swirling at his side just before Zola appeared.
I smiled. “Daxton.”
My mate turned, noting his spymaster’s arrival. “Gunnar, Castor.”
On command, they both stepped forward, Castor placing a hand on Daxton’s shoulder, with Gunnar doing the same. A line of a hundred warriors followed suit until everyone was linked. Shaw came to lay his hand on my shoulder with Zola at his side.
“Remember your sections. A handful of you will guard the ships,” Daxton demanded, his eyes hardening like cold steel. “While the others will help the shifters fighting on the front lines. Listen for Gunnar’s command.”
The warriors all nodded.
We didn’t know how much this teleport would tax Daxton’s magic, but with our mate bond in place, we were confident in his ability to see this through, along with the healing remedy from Crimson City that Daxton had tucked in his pocket.
“The shifters thank you for this aid,” I said, squeezing Daxton’s hand. “Now, to war.”