Chapter Thirty
Daxton Aegaeon
The world reformed in a wild rush as magic thrummed through my veins. One heartbeat, the heat of Crimson City washed over us like a rainstorm, and the next, the smell of fresh trees and open grasslands filled my lungs.
A forest clearing stretched before us, untamed, vast, and darkened with the lack of light from the new moon. The scent hit me first. Damp earth and moss, wildflowers that didn’t belong in a desert, or my home in Silver Meadows.
Skylar exhaled beside me, steadying herself after the jump. Her phoenix’s fire bristled against the pull of my magic, frost and flame uniting in a perfect balance along our bond.
“This way,” Gunnar whispered, scanning the horizon. His eyes narrowed, straining to see in the dark. His twin axes were strapped to his back as he crouched low, head on a swivel. “There’s movement along the southern ridge. Villagers, maybe. We’ll need to keep low.”
“I can lead us,” Skylar said. “It helps when you can see in the dark.”
“Show-off,” Gunnar muttered, causing Skylar to chuckle under her breath.
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, General.”
Gunnar straightened as his queen took the lead. “Get going.”
We followed my mate, moving quietly and carefully.
The trail beneath us was nothing more than a thread of dust winding between brush and ancient trees that thickened the farther we ventured into the forest. I glanced toward the commotion that had caught my attention, seeing the faint glow of lanterns flickering in the distance.
Burns lay north of here, a human settlement that specialized in farming. Focusing my senses, I could hear the faint echoes of laughter from the homes in the distance, and something in my chest twisted at the sound.
These humans had lived a life untouched by loss and war. I was envious of them. Of their peace.
“There is a main road over here, yet there seems to be nothing for miles. Do humans always linger this far from their main cities?” Gunnar asked as we crouched behind a boulder. “If the princess wanted a private meeting, she could have chosen somewhere less… populated.”
“I believe she’s being cautious,” Skylar said softly. “Just as we are.”
“Right,” Gunnar grunted.
I shot him a look. “You know as well as I do that diplomacy begins with risk.”
He snorted under his breath but said nothing more. Gunnar was not a male of politics and words, but of action. It was one of the many reasons why I selected him to lead the armies of Silver Meadows. Gunnar would never ask his warriors to do something he would not do himself.
We waited until the last cart rolled by before moving again, the night pressing close around us. The farther we went, the more the terrain shifted. The grassy pasture thinned, replaced by rich, dark soil with tree roots and overturned earth.
Skylar held up her hand, and we stopped.
“What is it?” I whispered.
She didn’t answer immediately, her eyes narrowing on something beyond the next rise. “Do you see that?”
I followed her gaze. At first, I thought it was just the light. But then I saw it—the trees. Their trunks arched overhead. Each one bent toward the next, forming a natural arcing canopy that reminded me of rainbows in the sky after a rainstorm.
“The Rainbow Woods,” Skylar murmured. “This is it.”
“Looks like a trap to me,” Gunnar said. “Those trees are unnatural.”
“Good thing we have you with us if it is, Gunnar,” I said quietly. “But I don’t believe this forest is enchanted or meant to harm us.”
“How can you tell?” he asked, suspicion threading through his tone.
I touched one of the smoothed lower branches as we passed beneath it, a chill running through me at the contact.
Not hostile.
“Because this forest is old. Untouched by the dark magic of the wilt. My magic does not recoil from it.”
Skylar tilted her head, her expression softening with something like recognition. “Let’s go,” she said.
Her pace quickened, the firelight in her hair sparking brighter as if answering an unseen call. I followed closely, senses alert, magic coiled tight beneath my skin. The deeper we ventured, the thicker the forest grew until the world beyond it ceased to exist.
Then, through the veil of trees, I saw a glint of gold, a clearing waiting ahead. Lanterns hung from the branches like tiny suns, illuminating a circle of figures. Human soldiers stood in polished armor, their insignias gleaming faintly with the sigil of Zircon and the royal house of Avermont.
And at the center stood the princess herself. She wore a radiant gown of deep crimson and gold threading and what looked to be a silver feather pendant around her neck, with a familiar captain with salt-and-pepper hair standing protectively at her side.
Her eyes, a deep cerulean, contrasted with a braid of midnight hair falling over her shoulder, found Skylar first. “Cousin,” she began, “I had begun to think you would not come.”
Skylar inclined her head. “Your directions were a bit vague. But here we are.”
Réalta studied her, then flicked her gaze toward me. “Thank you both for coming.”
“Don’t forget me,” Gunnar said with a smirk. “I’d be happy to demonstrate the might of the Silver Meadows armies if this meeting turns out like the last.”
I eyed our general, signaling for him to stand down until they gave him a reason not to. He followed my nod, crossing his arms and staying close to our backs.
“Minaeve’s actions began with our people. If you’re claiming you wish to overthrow her, then I believe you’re owed a chance to convince us of your cause.”
A faint, knowing smile ghosted across Réalta’s lips. “Then we are all bound by a common enemy.” She gestured to the circle. “Come and speak freely. We’re safe in these woods.”
We stepped into the crackling firelight. Gunnar stayed near the edge. His posture was taut. Réalta’s captain—Wyndfall, who I remembered from Zircon City—stood at her back, a silent wall of steel.
Réalta’s voice carried the calm confidence of someone used to being in command. “Tell me what happened. The truth. Not the stories that survived Minaeve’s lies.”
Skylar drew in a breath, her fire sparking along her fingertips and in the depths of her amber eyes. The colors of the forest seemed to bend toward her, drawn by the gravity of what she was about to say.
“Minaeve sought unity once,” she began. “At least, that’s what she wanted us to believe.
She came to the shifter lands preaching an alliance to save our dying world from the wilt and the trials to unlock the Heart of Valdor.
However…” My mate paused, and I sent her a flood of strength through our bond to ease her racing heart.
“However, Minaeve was the true cause of it all. The wilt was a byproduct of her dark magic.”
Réalta’s hands folded at her waist. “How did no one know of her treachery? That the wilt was caused by her?”
“The memory stones,” I answered plainly.
Réalta blinked rapidly in surprise but still kept her composure.
“My mother’s most treasured possessions were four memory stones. A relic of pure magic from her people—crafted to store memories. Minaeve utilized the power of the Heart of Valdor to amplify their magic and twisted it into a weapon.”
Skylar’s voice softened. “She stole the memories of all who opposed her, shifters, High Fae, humans… everything about who she truly was and what happened.”
Réalta’s expression darkened. “How was the wilt created? How did she acquire enough power to steal the Heart?”
“She killed everyone for it,” Skylar said. “Her own parents. Her brother, Istar, aided her, binding his power to hers as an amplifier. Together, they performed the sacrifice. They sought to control all of Valdor.”
A flicker of grief passed through Réalta’s eyes. “Alright. And then what happened?”
I couldn’t help finding amusement in the curious mind of this human. She was clearly related to my mate.
“The gods intervened,” I said. “The alpha shifter broke free and regained his memories. He retook the Heart and sealed it away, sacrificing his life to trap it beyond her reach.”
“Thankfully, before our memories were stolen,” I continued, “my father and the other royals of the Inner Kingdom constructed the veil to keep Minaeve trapped. It caged her in the Inner Kingdom. But before we could destroy her, she wiped our memories clean. Every truth we’d fought to preserve vanished. ”
Réalta’s shoulders stiffened. “And the veil held… until you.”
Skylar’s eyes flicked toward me. I felt her hesitation through our bond—the familiar ache of guilt she carried even when she tried to hide it.
“I didn’t know what I was unlocking,” she said quietly. “I completed the trials and healed the land. But I also gave Minaeve the weapon she sought for centuries.”
“You did what you had to,” I sent across the bond. “You healed the land and saved countless lives lost as fallen.”
“And I allowed her to escape,” Skylar answered, her shame hitting me square in the chest.
I couldn’t believe she blamed herself for this.
Réalta stepped closer, studying her cousin’s face.
“Then it’s true. The surges in power, the awakenings among the shifters…
It all began when the veil started to vanish.
” She exhaled, eyes narrowing in contemplation as she pieced everything together.
“I thought it was preparation for an attack, but now I understand why this was all happening.”
“Minaeve is gaining strength with creatures from the wilt,” I said, relaying Zola’s intel. “She’s rebuilding her army in the shadows.”
Réalta’s gaze flicked toward her captain.
“My father remarried and named her his queen. No one understood why, but now I do. Minaeve is controlling his mind somehow. She’s poison, spreading slowly into the minds of all those in my father’s company.
They don’t see the rot spreading beneath their feet. ”
“And Istar?” Gunnar asked from the edge of the light.
Réalta’s tone hardened. “He amplifies her magic. Always has. And now, she’s near unstoppable. But they do not know I’ve turned against them.”
Skylar’s fire pulsed faintly. “You’re building a rebellion?”
Réalta met her gaze. “Quietly. Carefully. My banners still fly beneath her gaze, but my loyalties have shifted. You can help me make that shift permanent.”
Gunnar’s eyes narrowed. “Then say it plainly, Princess. What do you want from us?”
“An alliance. During and after this war is done,” Réalta said.
This was what Skylar and I had hoped for. Peace beyond this darkness that had plagued our world for far too long.
Skylar moved closer. Her expression was fierce but calm. “You’ll have it. The shifter and High Fae armies stand ready. We’ll march south from Solace when the time comes.”
Réalta shook her head. “We can’t risk meeting with you in the north. It will draw too much attention.”
“What do you suggest then?” I asked.
“Minaeve watches those lands too closely, with Istar taking residence there years ago. When you are ready to make your move against the White Fang Mountains, I can rally the cities still loyal to me. Together, we’ll strike when her guard is down and surround her. We have to time it right.”
I studied her for a long moment before saying, “You’re risking everything for this.”
“Living in a cage is not living,” the princess answered. “I’m taking a stand to fight for a free world.”
Skylar’s hand brushed mine. Her voice in my mind was soft but certain. “She means it. She’ll fight with us.”
“Then we’ll fight beside her.”
Before I could speak aloud, a sharp rustle echoed through the trees. One of Réalta’s soldiers stumbled into the clearing, breathless, armor clinking.
“Your Highness!” he panted, bowing low. “Royal patrols on the southern road—too many to be a coincidence. They’re sweeping the forest. I think they found our trail.”
Wyndfall’s hand went to his sword. “We can hold them off.”
Réalta’s calm faltered. “No. If they find us here, they’ll know. Everything will fall apart.” She turned to us, urgency in her tone. “You need to leave. Now.”
Gunnar was already moving to arm himself. “Pity,” he muttered. “I was ready to spill some blood. My axes are far too clean.”
Skylar hesitated to leave. Réalta reached for her, and the two cousins met in the middle, openly embracing each other.
Réalta’s composure cracked, the faintest tremor in her voice. “Be careful, Skylar. If she senses what we’re doing, then—”
“She won’t,” Skylar said, gripping her cousin’s shoulders. “Here, take this.” My mate handed her cousin the parchment tucked into her cloak. “If you write a message on it, I will receive it on the enchanted twin piece. And vice versa.”
“Amazing. Don’t worry. I’ll keep it safe,” the princess said, tucking it into her bodice.
“Meet me on the battlefield, Réalta,” Skylar said, eyes blazing with her inner fire. “We end her together.”
Réalta’s throat bobbed as she nodded. “And when it’s done?”
“Then we rebuild,” Skylar said. “No more lies or lines between our worlds.”
Réalta smiled, a wide, true, unincumbered smile. “Go. I’ll buy you time.”
I took Skylar’s hand, cold meeting heat, our bond snapping into place like a current. Gunnar clasped his hand on my shoulder, signaling he was ready.
The last thing I saw was Réalta turning toward her captain, issuing orders with a familiar spark in her eyes. Then, the magic pulled tight, and the Rainbow Woods vanished.
When the light cleared, we stood on the balcony in Crimson City.
Gunnar stepped back and exhaled hard. “Well,” he said, “that could have gone worse.”
Skylar didn’t answer. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon.
Through our bond, I felt the steady flame of her resolve followed by the quiet ache beneath it.
“You did well,” I told her.
“We did well.”
I moved closer, resting a hand at the small of her back. “She’ll stand with us,” I said quietly. “When the time comes, I know she’ll honor her word and fight with us.”
Skylar nodded. “And Minaeve will finally fall.”