Chapter Thirty-Nine
Reign
The wind cut sharp and cold across the Shadowmere Sea, but Phantom’s mighty wings sliced through the night like an umbral sword.
Beside us—but not too close—Mordrin flew in a tight arc, his silver scales shimmering like moonlight over the water.
Ruhl sat astride him, unusually quiet. Perhaps it was the early hour, or maybe it was something else entirely.
I still don’t understand why he had to come. Phantom’s voice sailed through my thoughts.
I’m assuming you’re referring to Mordrin and not my brother.
She snorted, a plume of smoke rising from her nostrils. Of course.
I didn’t think you would suffer two riders. Was I mistaken?
To avoid Mordrin’s company, I just might have.
At times, I forgot just how complicated their past was. I doubted Phantom or Solanthus would ever forget Mordrin’s treachery during the war all those decades ago. Running a soothing hand across the scales at her neck, I murmured, “We’re almost there. You’ll be rid of him soon enough.”
Another snort from my skyrider was her only reply.
Turning my thoughts from my dragon’s drama to my other companion, I cast a glance over my shoulder. "Try to keep up, brother," I called over the wind, my shadows curling along Phantom’s spine. "We wouldn’t want you getting lost before we even land."
Ruhl snorted, his voice carried along the shadows between us. "Funny, coming from the male who spent half his life hiding out at Luce. I thought you liked being lost."
"I like being alive," I shot back, a grin tugging at my lips despite the dread simmering in my gut. "Which is why we’ll need to stay sharp when we hit Lunaris. These beasts aren’t your average cursed Fae."
“Right,” Ruhl muttered, pulling a worn piece of parchment from the satchel at his hip.
The ancient map fluttered in the wind but held steady under the cloak of his shadows.
“This drawing better be right. Gideon found it in one of Father’s old tomes; his personal, private collection. He believes it’s accurate, but…”
I arched a brow. "That’s reassuring."
"It’s the only frame of reference we have." His eyes narrowed as he studied the glowing glyphs shifting across the surface. "The Shard’s supposed to be hidden at the heart of the Lupherium, the Temple of the Moon. The problem is, the Wolvryn guard it like rabid hounds."
"They are rabid hounds," I muttered, my jaw tightening.
The Wolvryn weren’t simply shapeshifters.
They were cursed Fae, once regal warriors of Lunaris who’d been bound by ancient moon gods.
Some claimed they’d been protectors, guardians of balance.
Others said they were a failed trial, a punishment for their pride.
Either way, they’d become something primal. Savage.
They were forced to shift with the moon, but even in their Fae forms, the beast was never far beneath the surface.
I had yet to see one in person, but according to the texts, the Wolvryn were hulking forms with wolfish features, claws that could rip through shadow wards and teeth sharp enough to tear through bone.
And according to every source we’d found, the Wolvryn had no allegiance. They didn’t care about kings or crowns or realms.
Only blood.
Phantom let out a low growl beneath me, her onyx eyes flashing in the dark. I don’t like this.
Easy, old girl. Once again, I brushed a hand over her scales, sending a calming pulse through the bond. I know you hate leaving me on the ground, but we can’t risk you getting caught by those things. They would hear a dragon from miles away.
I’ll stay close. Her voice slithered through my mind like silk. If you call, I’ll come. I don’t care how many of those mongrels I have to burn alive to get to you.
Thank you. I pushed the final thought to her before turning back to Ruhl. “We ground here.”
We dipped low over the cliffs of Lunaris, the jagged shoreline jutting from the sea like the ribs of some long-dead beast. Phantom and Mordrin hovered just over the land a few yards apart, wings flared to keep us airborne.
The air here was different. Thicker. Wilder. The scent of rain-drenched pine mingled with something sharper beneath it. My nostrils flared at the unfamiliar odors: iron, fur, blood.
The Wolvryn had marked this land.
I slid from Phantom’s back, my boots sinking into the mist-laced moss. Shadows coiled instinctively around my arms and through my fingers.
Ruhl dismounted beside me, rolling his shoulders. “You think this is the best place to start?”
“No idea,” I muttered, watching as our dragons soared into the skies again, disappearing into the darkening clouds to circle high above.
His smirk was laced with something darker. “Spoken like a true royal.”
“Careful,” I said, shadows flickering at my fingertips. “I might take that insult personally. Besides, you’re the only future king amongst us.”
Ruhl’s head tipped back, a nearly silent laugh vibrating his shoulders. “You know, my whole life, I’ve waited for this moment. For the chance to finally take the Shadow Throne…”
“And now?”
Ruhl’s smirk faded, darkness settling across his features. His gaze dropped to the dew-coated moss between us, then lifted again, eyes sharper now. Something like exhaustion bled through the cracks in his usual bravado.
“And now?” His throat bobbed. “Now, I’m not sure the title is worth a damn thing. Why would I want to sit atop a throne of ash and bones?” His voice was raw, quiet, like a secret he hadn’t meant to share.
I remained silent, allowing him the time to get his thoughts together.
“I used to think ruling was everything,” he continued, his eyes narrowing on the horizon where the mist curled thicker.
“Power. Control. Proving I was more than Tenebris’s simpering loyal heir.
But standing here, hunting for some cursed shard in the middle of Wolvryn territory to save you and Aelia, I realize the throne means nothing if the two of you don’t survive this. ”
I remained perfectly still, taking aback by his words.
His lips quirked, but it wasn’t really a smile. “Maybe that’s what makes me fit to rule now. I don’t want it anymore.”
I nodded, letting his final words hang in the air between us.
He was right. And I was so gods’ damned proud of my younger brother that unexpected heat pricked at the corners of my eyes.
He would be a great king, one that they would write about for centuries to come.
I was certain of it. All we had to do was survive the day, and the coming war…
“Shall we?” Ruhl motioned toward the mountain range to our right.
“After you, Shadow Regent.” I dipped into an elaborate bow, coaxing a smirk from his lips.
We moved silently through the underbrush, the map glowing faintly in Ruhl’s hand as he tracked the glyphs.
The Lupherium was supposedly hidden deep in the northern cliffs, past the Crags of Moira.
If the shard truly existed, it was no doubt buried beneath ancient wards.
It was yet another issue we’d have to solve once we found it.
The mist thickened as we walked, wrapping around our ankles, our waists, until the world narrowed to little more than shadow and breath.
Then, I felt it, the prickle at the base of my spine.
“Ruhl,” I whispered, shadows curling around me, poised to strike. “We’re not alone.”
A low growl echoed from the trees, so deep it rumbled through my ribs. Shapes emerged from the fog, hulking figures, taller than any male should be, with eyes glowing amber in the gloom. Their fur bristled, dark and mottled, claws flexing as they closed in.
Wolvryn.
There were six of them, circling like wolves on the hunt. And by the looks of it, they weren’t here to negotiate. Their claws gleamed like obsidian blades as they moved, forged from something older than any realm. When they breathed, the atmosphere thickened, iron and rot filling the air.
"Stay back," I snarled, nox surging from my hands. But the beasts only pressed closer, saliva dripping from fangs too long for their jaws.
From within, the zar thrummed louder, cold and seductive, whispering promises of annihilation. It wanted me to let go. To destroy them.
One leapt.
I ducked, shadows snapping around its neck midair, slamming it into the rocks. Another came at Ruhl, but he spun, his umbral blade arcing across its chest. Blood splattered the moss, thick and dark crimson.
Still, they kept coming.
Another Wolvryn lunged, claws scraping my side. I spun, shadows lashing out like vipers and wrapping around its limbs, but it writhed free. Fast. Too fast. And damned strong.
Ruhl shouted, slicing another across the thigh. “They won’t stop coming!”
“Then neither do we,” I growled, the zar rising in my blood, colder and sharper, harder to keep in.
It fed the storm inside me. I threw out my hand, finally summoning the twisted tendrils of Night that now coursed through my veins.
The shadows thickened, a snarl of ebony that wrapped around two of the beasts, crushing them to the ground.
They howled but didn’t die.
Gods, they just kept moving.
The biggest one pinned Ruhl against a boulder, jaws snapping inches from his throat. “Reign!” he shouted, eyes wild.
I leapt, shadows streaming from my palms. The blast knocked the Wolvryn back, just long enough for Ruhl to ram his blade through its chest. It shuddered, let out a final, guttural growl, then went still.
As we stood there panting, I watched in horror as the fallen Wolvryn’s bones cracked and mangy dark fur receded, revealing an enormous male. A very dead one.
Something rippled through the remaining beasts; a flux of raw power.
Could the Wolvryn be linked somehow? Before I could think on it longer, something cracked, not just bone, but magic.
I’d read tales of small packs led by an Alpha, the strongest of the lot.
Perhaps their abilities stemmed from a bond similar to the one that flowed through Aelia and me.
As if in answer to my unspoken question, a flash of moonlight across the beasts’ chests caught my eye. A faint glyph, etched in slivers of moonbeams, pulsed once then dimmed. They staggered, their amber eyes flickering, like the death of one had siphoned the strength from them all.
Releasing another wave of shadows laced with the potent zar, my wraiths easily tore through the remainders of the weakened pack. The others followed their leader soon after, one by one, until the clearing was soaked in Wolvryn blood and our shadows heaved a ragged breath.
My knees nearly buckled, the weight of exhaustion dragging at my limbs as if made of lead chains.
Every breath burned, shadows flickering at the edges of my vision.
The zar still pulsed beneath my skin, but it was weaker now.
The dark power was finally spent from the battle—or maybe that was just me.
Ruhl wiped a smear of blood from his jaw, his hand trembling as his umbral blade sputtered out. “Remind me why we didn’t bring the dragons all the way to the temple?” His grin was weak, but it was there. “Next time, let them do the heavy lifting.”
Panting, I gave in and dropped to one knee, wiping the sweat from my brow. “Next time,” I muttered, “you’re going first.”
Ruhl chuckled, a rough sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Next time, I’ll summon more blades. Or better yet, perhaps you can let me borrow some of that zar.”
“If only I knew how I got it in the first place.”
“I’m sure you have theories…” A flicker of amusement, of curiosity, brightened his eyes.
“It’s not from Aelia,” I admitted.
“I didn’t think it was.” He regarded me for a long moment, and then it clicked. I saw it the moment he put the pieces together. How had he come to the realization so quickly, and how had I not realized it sooner? “Your mother…”
“Mmm,” I murmured. “Whoever she may have been.”
He nodded slowly, then heaved out a breath.
We stood there, side by side, for an endless moment, bloodied but alive.
For now.
Finally, I glanced at him, my chest tightening, not from the battle, but from something heavier. “Ruhl,” I murmured, voice gruff. “I know I’ve never been easy on you, brother. But you’ve become a better male than I ever thought you would.”
Ruhl’s gaze snapped to mine, startled. “Did you just compliment me?”
“Don’t get used to it,” I muttered with a smirk. “I know you still want my mate.”
His grin was rueful but real. “And I know I’d have to kill you before you’d let me take her.”
“And if you succeeded, I’d only come back to haunt you in the afterlife,” I whispered, shadows flickering at my fingertips.
“Well, then, it’s a good thing I have no intention of ever trying.”
“Good.” A reluctant smile parted my lips.
The mist shifted again, curling between us, and the map in Ruhl’s hand flared brighter, pulling us from the moment.
“We’re close,” he blurted.
“Then what are we waiting for?”