Chapter Fifty-Eight
Aelia
The wind tugged at the ends of my cloak as I walked the upper ramparts of the Shadow Fortress, the ancient stones slick beneath my boots from the morning mist. Beneath the waning moon, I could see the wild, jagged terrain sprawling beyond the perimeter, dark, beautiful, and haunted by war.
A shadow message had arrived only hours ago from Ruhl.
The Night Fae had infiltrated Feywood.
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, breath catching painfully in my chest. My home. My quiet, beloved little village tucked into the folds of the forest like a secret. The place I’d spent so many years hiding, tilling the fields for the Fae, and training with Aidan in secret.
Gods, Aidan.
His name alone was enough to lance a hole through my composure.
And Sol. I missed him with a ferocity that made my bones ache. It had been too many days of silence, the bond between us little more than a flicker in the void. I told myself he was alive. That both he and Phantom were. But telling and believing were two very different things.
A whisper of movement had me pausing at the northern tower, the cold wind sweeping down from the peaks. I turned and stilled.
Vaelora.
She stood with her back to the stone wall, white hair billowing like silk in the breeze, her navy eyes sharp, even in the dim light. There was something different about her now, the quiet, unassuming servant replaced by a forgotten queen.
It was the first time I’d seen her since Helspire Keep.
My steps faltered. We hadn’t spoken since her arrival. Since I’d escaped. Since I’d survived.
“I didn’t expect to see you out here,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle her.
She inclined her head. “I walk out here to enjoy the night sky. I missed it for so many years.”
For a moment, we simply stood in silence, the shadows casting long patterns between us.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “For what you did. For what you tried to do for me back in Helspire. You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” she replied softly, brushing windblown hair behind her ear. “Not because of duty. But because you were alone. And scared. And strong.” She paused, her gaze drifting toward the horizon. “You reminded me of someone my daughter could have been.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So, instead, I asked, “Have you spoken to Reign?”
A sad smile curved her mouth. “Not truly. Not as I wish to. He keeps me at a distance. He’s polite and respectful, but his heart is locked.”
A pang tightened in my chest. I knew that lock well. I’d had to pry it open more than once.
“He’s afraid to let me in,” Vaelora continued, eyes clouding. “Maybe he simply doesn’t trust me yet, or perhaps it’s something else entirely. But I already see who he really is. He reminds me so much of his grandfather.”
“Karnax,” I said softly.
Her smile faltered. “The only male I ever loved.”
My heart clenched. She didn’t say it, but I could feel the grief behind those words. And the regret. Before I could respond, footsteps echoed behind me, heavy and sure, and familiar. I turned.
Reign.
He slowed as he approached, shadows rising faintly around his shoulders like a protective cloak. His gaze shifted from me to Vaelora, unreadable.
“Reign,” she said, her voice calm, but there was hope there too. “You’ve been training hard with your great-uncle. I’ve barely seen either one of you in days.”
He grunted. “Kaelith doesn’t believe in moderation.”
A hint of amusement touched her face, but it faded as quickly as it came. “You’re both blessed with the same relentless strength. But strength isn’t always what wins wars.”
His jaw tightened.
“Sometimes, love does,” she added.
A beat passed. Then another.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said at last, voice quiet but edged in something that wasn’t quite resistance.
Vaelora nodded slowly, then turned to me. “Walk with me again sometime.”
I nodded, and she slipped away into the shadows like a wraith, leaving me alone with my mate.
Reign stepped beside me and let out a slow breath. “I heard about Feywood. How bad is it?”
I shook my head. “Ruhl says they’re battling near the edge. But if they push deeper, there are Kin who won’t survive that kind of assault.”
He didn’t speak for a long while. Then, his hand slid into mine, firm and warm. “We’ll stop them,” he whispered. “One way or another.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder, grounding myself in the only thing that still felt steady in a world unraveling around me. “I know.”
We stood there for an interminable moment, leaning on one another, basking in the pale moonlight and the twinkling stars casting their ethereal light on the endless darkness below.
“We can’t just keep waiting,” I murmured, tilting my head back to meet his troubled gaze.
“I know.”
Steeling myself for what came next, I forced the sentence out. “I sent word back to Ruhl that I’ll join him tomorrow.”
“What?” Reign spun on me, shadows peeling from his broad shoulders to encircle me as if they could somehow keep me pinned to the spot.
“Those are my people, Reign, and unlike the Light and Shadow Fae, they are completely powerless. I will not stand by and allow those poor Kin to die.”
“But Ruhl—”
“Ruhl is one male with one dragon. He cannot bear the responsibility for all of us.”
“And I cannot bear the possibility of losing you,” he growled.
His roar echoed across the ramparts, swallowed a moment later by the wind whistling off the cliffs.
Shadows lashed out from his body, flickering like broken wings before dissipating into the night.
I didn’t flinch. He didn’t scare me, he never truly had, even when he appeared at my door in Feywood a year ago.
“I’ve made up my mind,” I said, my voice low but firm.
“I owe it to them, Reign. To the Kin who work their fingers to the bones for the Fae. They were my neighbors and my friends, who whispered stories of a better world to their children even as monsters lurked at their doorstep. I am their princess, too. Their hope. If I don’t go, what will happen to them? ”
He dragged a hand through his ink-black hair, jaw clenching. “You are also my cuoré,” he said hoarsely. “The bond between us—” His voice cracked. “If you fall… I fall. I could never live without you. There isn’t a world in which I would want to.”
My heart squeezed, the weight of his words anchoring themselves in the deepest parts of me.
But I couldn’t turn away from this path.
“I know the risks,” I whispered. “But I can’t live with myself if I stay behind while innocent lives are ripped apart.
I won’t be a queen who hides behind stone walls. ”
He stepped closer, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen.
“Then I’m coming with you,” he said, shadows already curling up his spine, determination burning in his midnight eyes.
I shook my head. “You can’t. You know that. If Phantom and Sol return while we’re gone or if the final battle begins, your power is our last line of defense. If anything should happen to Ruhl, you are the Shadow Court’s heir too. Their strength.”
“And you are my strength.” His voice broke like a vow, soft but irrevocable. His jaw ticked, shadows trembling at the edges of his form, like he was about to speak.
Then it hit me.
A violent jolt of energy ignited behind my ribs, flooding every vacant space within me with blinding, brilliant light. Pure rais surged through my veins like wildfire, searing away the cold void that had consumed me for days.
Solanthus.
His name thundered through my soul as the skyrider bond snapped back into place like a lifeline drawn taut. The hollowness I’d carried for a week was gone in an instant, replaced by a pulsing current of power, of presence, of him.
My breath hitched, knees buckling as the onslaught of energy crashed through me, staggering me backward. Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away in time to see Reign drop to his knees, eyes wide, lips parted in stunned disbelief.
“They’re alive,” I choked out, pressing a trembling hand to my chest. “Thank Raysa, they’re alive.”