Chapter Fifty-Three
Reign
The fortress slept,or at least it pretended to.
Shadows pooled in the corners of the obsidian halls as I paced them in silence, my boots whispering over etched runes that pulsed faintly with old, flickering nox.
I couldn’t sleep, and I hated to wake Aelia, as she needed her rest to continue to heal from the grief, so instead, I paced.
War had changed the rhythm of this place.
We were in the eye of the storm, and the walls knew it. Every stone held its breath.
And so did I.
I should have killed the Night King.
The thought had looped in my mind so many times, it had worn a trench.
I could see it, over and over. Helroth’s blade arcing toward me, my own parried strike a second too slow.
And Aelia jumping between us. Noxus, if he’d struck her instead…
Agony ripped at my insides at just the thought.
I would never survive losing her. I wouldn’t want to.
Then Aidan… gods, why had Aidan stepped between us?
He’d taken the blow meant not for Aelia, but for me.
I clenched my fists until shadow coiled tightly around my fingers, the darkness biting into my skin. My shadows should have moved faster. My blade should have been sharper. I should have been stronger.
But I wasn’t.
Instead, I’d stood, stunned, as Aidan crumpled, and all I could do was try to catch him before he hit the ground with my cuoré’s shock and devastation rushing our bond.
You are spiraling again. Phantom’s voice slipped into my mind, a cool wind brushing against scorched skin. I paused, leaning against one of the carved columns overlooking the dark training yard below.
Do you blame me? I asked her, my words raw in the bond. If I’d done what I was meant to, he’d still be alive. Aelia would still have her adoptive father, and at least it would have been one thing I could have given her.
A long silence followed.
You are not a god, Reign. You are a male who carries too many burdens and still walks upright. That is strength.
I scoffed under my breath. “Tell that to Aelia,” I whispered, even though I knew well that she didn’t blame me.
It was Helroth and Liora who held that distinction.
But still, I couldn’t let it go, the feeling that I’d failed them.
Tell it to the grave we buried him in. To the blade I couldn’t drive deep enough into Helroth’s chest to rid this world of him forever.
We’re no closer to ending the war than we were a week, or even a month ago.
We’re only down a dozen soldiers and Aelia’s adoptive father.
Again, Phantom didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, I thought she’d left me to wallow in peace.
There is something I’ve kept from you. Her voice was lower now, tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. A way, perhaps, to make you stronger. To awaken something greater. But not yet.
My brows knit. Why not now?
Because, like all power, it does not come without a price. And I’m not certain we are ready to pay it.
Cryptic, as ever.
Phantom, if there’s even a fragment of truth to what you said, if there’s any way to make me stronger, to be the male she truly deserves, then you must tell me.
Please. I would tear apart the stars and surrender every ounce of light left in me, if it meant keeping Aelia safe.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t give. Not even myself.
I know that, Reign. And that is exactly what I fear.
I didn’t get the chance to press her further. Footsteps sounded from the corridor ahead, deliberate and unhurried. I turned as Kaelith emerged from the shadows, dark robes trailing behind him like midnight smoke. And then, I saw her. Vaelora.
For some reason I couldn’t quite explain, I’d avoided her all week. Upon our return from Feywood, I’d offered little more than a hello to my grandmother.
She kept to herself, remaining in her chambers and clinging to Kaelith’s side when she did emerge.
The ancient Night Fae great-uncle I hadn’t known existed a few weeks ago, the male who had sat by and watched my cuoré as she was held captive for months and done nothing.
As Vaelora had. Was that why I was wary to go to her?
Was I still subconsciously harboring ill will toward them?
It didn’t matter that they had no idea who Aelia or I were at the time. I couldn’t simply let that go.
I stiffened, instinct coiling under my skin.
Avoiding Vaelora’s guarded gaze, I turned to my great-uncle instead.
“Come to offer more faulty intel on the Night King?” A part of me knew very well how unfair I was being, but I couldn’t help it.
Anger brewed just below my skin, and he was an easy target.
Kaelith didn’t even flinch. “No. Just clarity.”
I stared at him, jaw tight.
A shadow of something passed over his face. “I wish things had been different, Reign. We both do.” He ticked his chin at Vaelora. “We wish we’d known of your existence years ago. I thought my brother’s bloodline had ended in death. Clearly, I’d been wrong.”
We stood there in silence, two Night Fae and a bastard bound by blood and decades of silence.
“I’m so sorry, Reign,” Vaelora whispered, her voice wavering. “And thank you for the rescue. I never thought I would escape the walls of Helspire Keep alive.”
I nodded, unexpected emotion tightening my throat. She had been a prisoner as much as Aelia had. They both had been.
“And I should have come to visit with you since my return.” I awkwardly dragged a palm over my nape and huffed out a sigh. “I hope there will be more time for that soon.”
“I pray to all the gods.” She dipped her head.
“It would be my greatest joy to get to know my grandson. I missed out on the chance to know your mother as an adult, and I’ll be damned if I allow that to happen with you.
” A smile curled her lips as her eyes met mine, and another wave of longing crashed over me.
Of the mother I never knew, the grandmother, the grandfather, an entire bloodline kept secret.
Then Kaelith stepped closer, raising my hackles and putting an end to the quiet moment.
“Not that this family reunion isn’t lovely, but there are more pressing matters to attend to.
” His eyes narrowed as they seared over me.
“I saw what you did on the battlefield. You’re powerful, Reign.
But Helroth, he’s had centuries to master the zar. You’ve had, what? A few months? Less?”
“I don’t need a lecture from you right now,” I growled.
“No. You need a teacher.”
I blinked, not having expected that at all.
“I trained with your grandfather, Karnax,” he said quietly. “And for a time, I trained Helroth, too. I know the way he fights. The way he thinks. If we want to beat him, truly beat him, you need to know it too. And not just in theory.”
I crossed my arms, weighing the offer. “So you’re offering to be my instructor?”
“I am,” he said, blunt as a blade, as he’d been since the moment I’d met him. “Because we’re running out of time. And because, like it or not, you and your cuoré are the last heirs of the Night line, one true and one stolen. That power in your blood? You haven’t even scratched the surface.”
I looked away, jaw ticking. “Let me guess, you think I’m not worthy of that great power,” I muttered.
“Of course not,” Vaelora hissed, jabbing her elbow into my great-uncle’s side.
Kaelith shook his head, throwing my grandmother an eyeroll—not something I was sure I’d ever seen him do. “I think you’re angry and scared. And that dulls the edge of power instead of sharpening it.”
Another beat of silence passed.
“Do it, Kaelith,” she murmured.
With a grunt, he extended his hand. “Come to the lower training court at six before the soldiers begin their exercises. If you want to learn.”
I didn’t take his hand, but I met his gaze. For the first time, I saw no manipulation there. Only honesty. And a strange flicker of something I’d never seen in the face of any Night Fae besides Aelia.
Hope.
“At six,” I echoed.
And as Kaelith and Vaelora walked away, I realized I was already planning how I’d kill the Night King. I lingered a while longer, listening to their whispers and footsteps fade into the quiet, his words clanging around inside my skull like a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing.
You haven’t even scratched the surface.
Was that true? And if so, what would happen when I did?
Then Phantom’s cryptic warning curled like smoke through the back of my mind.
A price. One you might not be ready to pay.
But Aidan had already paid the price, hadn’t he? And so had too many others. If there was a way to stop this war before Aelia lost anyone else, before I lost her, I’d take it, no matter the cost.
The corridor stretched ahead of me, lit by flickering torches that cast long shadows against the obsidian walls. I didn’t know where I was going until I saw the faint sliver of light beneath our bedroom door.
Before I could reach it, it swung open.
Aelia stood there, barefoot, her robe hanging loosely over her shoulders, silver-blue eyes blinking against the light. Her hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, but to me, she looked like salvation incarnate.
“There you are,” she murmured, stepping into the hall. “I was worried…”
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I said.
She studied me a moment, as if reading the wear etched into my bones, then she slipped her hand into mine. “Come to bed, Reign. Please.”
I let her tug me into the room, unable to deny her, and closed the door behind us. The fire was still warm in the hearth. The bed rumpled. The chamber, ours. Not the one I’d grown up in all those years ago, but one we’d made our own, together.
I sat down on the edge of the mattress, and she curled in beside me, tucking her head against my shoulder, her presence securing me in the here and now.
“I ran into Vaelora and Kaelith,” I whispered, watching the flames dance.
“Oh, Raysa, I have yet to see her. I feel awful. She’d been so kind to me at the Keep, and now that we know the truth…”
“There will be plenty of time to catch up with my new relatives once we’ve crushed the Night Fae.” I shook my head, drawing in a steadying breath before continuing. “Kaelith offered to help me train my zar. Said he once trained with Helroth too.”
Her hand squeezed mine, but the flash of surprise in her expression was there all the same. “Good,” she finally replied. “You should take him up on it.”
I turned to her, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. “You’re not worried he has some other motive?”
“I think Kaelith and Vaelora want the same thing we do. Peace.” She sighed, nuzzling closer. “Besides, I trust you. And I know you’ll do whatever it takes to protect Aetheria.”
And you, I wanted to say. Most of all, you.
I didn’t tell her about Phantom’s cryptic words. Not yet. Not until I understood the cost.
Instead, I lay her down on the plush mattress and settled in beside her, letting the scent of her lull the storm in my mind, as only she could. She curled into my chest, her breath steadying against my skin.
And for the first time in what felt like days, I closed my eyes and let the stillness envelope me. I still didn’t have all the answers. Still didn’t know how we’d win this war, or what I’d have to sacrifice to make that happen.
But with her in my arms, her hand warm against my chest, and with a plan taking shape, I finally felt something I hadn’t let myself feel since Tenebris’s disappearance.
Purpose. Resolve. Like maybe we could actually win this.