Chapter Fifty-Seven
Reign
The war room crackled with tension, full of unspoken fears and sharp opinions colliding like unsheathed blades.
Shadowlight flickered across the obsidian walls, illuminating the gathered council of generals, strategists, and those who’d fought in the Two Hundred Years War and knew how fast it could all unravel.
Aelia stood beside me, arms folded tightly, her mouth a hard line of restraint. But I could feel her rage vibrating through the cuorem. Her fear. Her grief. Her power.
“Reports confirm it,” said General Arven, his voice as brittle as dry bones.
He’d served my father for decades. What would he do if he knew I’d been the one to betray him to Elian?
I pushed the pointless thought aside for now as the male continued.
“The Night Fae battalions are no longer lurking in the shadows of the Wilds. They’re on the move, marching through Feywood. ”
Aelia drew in a sharp breath before her fist slammed against the stone table. “Then we ride to meet them. Today.”
I touched her arm before I could think better of it. “We can’t.”
She rounded on me. “We have to. The Kin are powerless. You know that better than anyone. If Helroth’s forces reach them—”
“They won’t,” I interrupted. “Not all of them. You heard what Ruhl said earlier, Helroth isn’t riding with them.
This is only a small force.” I paused, lowering my voice another octave.
Only our tightest circle of confidants knew our dragons were unreachable.
“We’re not ready. Not without Solanthus or Phantom. ”
The silence that followed was brutal.
Her eyes searched mine, desperation etched into every line of her face, and it was a punch to the gut. “So we wait? While they slaughter innocents?”
“No.” I pulled away from the table, pacing to the edge of the chamber. My shadows stirred around me, restless. “This is only the first wave. Helroth is testing us, baiting us into moving too soon. If we rush out with half our strength, we’ll lose everything.”
“I wish Aidan were still here,” she whispered. The raw ache in her voice nearly undid me. “He’d know what to do, and he wouldn’t hesitate to protect them.”
I stepped toward her, placing a hand over hers on the table. “Aidan trusted us to lead. You. Me. He knew this moment was coming.”
She turned her face away, jaw trembling.
Ruhl stepped forward, his shadows still clinging to his back like smoke. “Then let me go.”
Aelia blinked. “…What?”
“I’ll take Mordrin and a squadron of Umbral Guards,” Ruhl said. “We’ll intercept the Night Fae before they reach Feywood. Harass their flank, slow their momentum. Long enough for our forces to prepare.” And our dragons to return. The unspoken words were as clear as day.
“Absolutely not,” Arven barked. “You are the Shadow Regent, the future of the Court of Umbral Shadows. You are much too valuable.”
“And you’ll be outnumbered,” Aelia said, voice tight.
His crooked grin surfaced. “Wouldn’t be the first time. And if anyone knows how to fight dirty, it’s me.”
“You’re serious?” Aelia’s brows drew together.
Ruhl’s expression sobered. “You think I’m going to stand here while Helroth’s monsters carve up Kin villages?
” Looking between me and my mate, he lowered his voice, directing his words only to us as the other generals argued.
“We all know you two are tethered to those dragons. When they return, you’ll be the realm’s best chance.
But not if you charge off now and die without them. ”
Aelia opened her mouth to argue, but I caught her hand in mine. “He’s right.” Two words I never thought I’d say where it concerned my half-brother.
Her stare pierced me, fury and heartbreak in equal measure. “I hate that he’s right.”
“So do I,” I admitted. “But you and me? We’re not just warriors anymore. We’re the rallying point. The Courts need us, especially you. Strong and alive.”
“And what about Ruhl? The general is right, too. He’s the future king.”
Ruhl shrugged nonchalantly. “Assuming I pass the Ritual of the Shadow Throne, which I am in no hurry to do.”
Aelia squeezed my brother by the shoulders, forcing his gaze to her serious one. “You are the Shadow Court’s future, Ruhl. You can’t be so flippant with your life.”
He snorted on a laugh. “And you’re one to talk, princess.
” Then his dark eyes darted to mine. “Both of you. We are all heirs of some court or another. We are all equally valuable.” Then he wriggled free of her hold.
“Let me do this for you, for all of us. You two have carried the burden long enough.”
Neither Aelia nor I spoke. I was too stunned by this selfless stranger posing as my once spoiled, arrogant younger brother. And gods help me, for the first time, I was afraid to lose him.
With the silence lingering, he turned toward the door. “I leave within the hour. Let’s see how the Night Fae like a little fire of our own.”
I watched him go, a dark streak of purpose and recklessness wrapped in shadows. Then I turned to Aelia and pulled her against me, anchoring her to the one thing I could still offer.
“We’ll fight,” I promised into her hair. “When the time is right, we’ll burn the darkness from this realm. Together.”
She didn’t speak. But the weight of her heart pressed against mine.
A long minute later, with the generals still bickering in the background, she whispered against my tunic, “What do you think is happening with Sol and Phantom?”
“I wish I knew, starlight,” I murmured against her hair.
“I hope they’re back soon.”
“As do I.”
A heady tangle of nox and rais surged across the training arena, the entire space teeming with movement. We’d managed to bolster our forces in the past few days after sending out half a dozen scouts across both Light and Shadow Courts, summoning both fighting males and females to our cause.
Aelia had rallied Fae from both Courts like she was born to do it.
A warrior princess with fire in her blood and stars in her veins, destined to unify all Aetheria.
I felt it with increasing certainty with every day that passed.
I only had to keep her alive so she could actually fulfill that destiny.
Another day had come and gone, and as if worrying about Phantom and Solanthus wasn’t taxing enough, now I had my brother and our troops in the Wilds to fret about.
From the shadow message I’d received yesterday, Ruhl had managed to keep the Night Fae forces at bay.
They’d stopped them right at the border of Feywood. So far, no Kin lives had been lost.
Meanwhile, on the other boundary, along the Luminoc, that fool, King Elian, kept his Royal Guardians threatening Shadow Lands. Which forced us to split our soldiers across two fronts. This was exactly what we’d all feared. Fighting two enemies in a war was far from ideal.
A part of me wanted nothing more than to confront Elian head on and end this lunacy. But for all his faults, the male was still Aelia’s uncle and her only living blood relative. I understood the dilemma well, seeing as I’d experienced it with my own bastard of a father.
Not for the first time, my thoughts turned to the male who’d sired me.
Where are you, Tenebris? The Moirai Shard still waited in the armoire, poised to claim whatever sacrifice it deemed fit.
At least we wouldn’t be forced to use it to sever the blood vow Helroth held over Aelia.
She wouldn’t have to bear that steep price because she’d been able to overcome it on her own somehow.
I, on the other hand, was still fettered by its relentless hold.
Why? I simply couldn’t understand it. Was it because she was the child of twilight? Did that give her some sort of godly power I could never attain?
Blowing out a breath, I tossed out the futile thoughts. None of that mattered right now. I just needed to focus. To train. To be strong enough to do what needed to be done when the time came.
As I marched along the periphery of the arena, the shadows around me shifted, then warped, and I knew before he stepped into view who was approaching.
“Still brooding, are we?” Kaelith drawled, his voice low and dry as old parchment.
I turned, jaw already tight. “I wasn’t brooding. I was thinking.”
“Same thing, in your case,” he said, stepping into the flickering torchlight, arms folded across his chest. “I gave you half the morning, nephew. You’ve had your moment of reflection. Now it’s time to bleed.”
I arched a brow. More at the word nephew than his desire to make me bleed. “That’s your motivational speech? I thought the ancient Night Court warriors—a royal, nonetheless—were supposed to be poetic.”
He smirked, unamused. “Poetry doesn’t keep you alive when your enemy’s blade is at your throat. Power does. Discipline. Control. You want to stand against Helroth? Then move.”
The speech was so familiar, something I’d said to my own students countless times before. It was as if it had been dragged from my own lips. Perhaps, I had more in common with my Night Fae great-uncle than I believed.
My hands curled into fists, shadows already flickering across my knuckles. “You always this charming before noon?”
“No. Usually, I’m worse,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Now, get moving before I drag you into the sparring circle myself.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw, but I forced a breath through my nose and stalked past him.
As we walked, his voice lowered. “You’re strong, Reign. But you’re still holding back. Still letting the past weigh your blade.”
I didn’t answer. Because he wasn’t wrong.
But I would face it. All of it. The past. My father. Helroth. The war. And I would win.
Even if it meant bleeding for every damned inch. For her.