Chapter 19
My body is beyond exhaustion, but my magic takes over, pulling me into its current as if I’ve surrendered to a river.
Lowan’s form darts ahead of me, wings slicing the air as he dives and twists through the narrow corridors.
I must keep him in sight because if I lose sight of him for even a second, I will be lost in this stone labyrinth.
The dungeon rumbles with noise and chaos. Shouts echo, heavy boots thunder on stone, and dust rains down from the ceiling in choking clouds. I don’t know what’s happening, and I don’t care. All that matters is keeping Lowan in sight.
The passage narrows, then opens again, each turn sharper than the last. I feel like we aren’t as deep underground as we were before. There’s no way I could have found my way out on my own—not in this maze. But my magic seems to know, and I let it. I let it carry me.
At the end of the corridor, a heavy door looms. Just as I wonder how in the stars we’ll get past it, the air hums. I feel it first—familiar, thrumming like a heartbeat against my skin—Zillah’s shield. My chest tightens. They’re close. They’ll know we’re coming.
The door explodes outward with a blast of force.
Fresh air slams into me, cool and wild, and I drink it in like water after an endless drought.
Freedom. My lungs ache with it. My skin prickles with the shock of it.
I don’t even realize tears are falling until the wind whips them away. We burst upward into the night sky.
Behind us, an explosion rocks the ground, shaking the stones and sending embers spiraling into the air. The night smells of smoke and iron and something acrid that clings to the back of my throat.
Below, at the edge of the forest, two figures wait.
Zillah stands with her arms flung wide, gesturing frantically for us to move, to ride, to get as far from this place as we can.
Selene is beside her, her hand pressed over her chest, her face tilted up to me.
Her eyes glisten—not with shock, but with something like reverence, as though she is watching a vision unfold before her.
Lowan dives toward the trees, and I follow, the air screaming past me, the freedom of it almost too much to bear. We vanish into the cover of the forest; the shadows swallow us whole as we glide on the winds of escape.
We weave through the trees, twisting and diving, Selene and Zillah’s horses a blur beneath us. Branches whip past, the air burns my lungs, but I can’t look anywhere except at the dark sweep of Lowan’s wings ahead of me.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of tawny fur—Remli in her lynx form, sprinting with an ease that looks like flight itself. Kyler’s hawk-shadow flickers farther back, never too close, but always there.
At last, Selene yanks her mount to a stop, throwing up a hand.
Zillah reins in hard beside her. Lowan swoops down and shifts mid-stride, cloak already in hand.
He reaches me first. I land awkwardly, raw magic guiding my body as it folds back into flesh, and before shame or cold can strike, his cloak is around me. His arm, too, is braced and steady.
For one breath, they stare—Zillah, Selene, even Remli’s golden eyes—like they’re seeing something impossible.
Kyler lands, shifting quickly as thought, and presses my blades into Lowan’s waiting hand.
His voice is low, urgent. “We have little time. If we’re not back soon, they’ll know.
They think we’re pursuing you, but suspicion only buys so much.
” His eyes cut to Selene. “If you keep north another couple of miles, you’ll hit the wards.
Everyone will sense the break. Don’t linger—circle back, throw them off the trail. ”
Selene nods once, already calculating. Kyler glances toward the trees, where shouts and movement stir. “We’ll keep them occupied. Buy you distance.”
Lowan’s jaw tightens. “Kyler. My mother. Sirona. They’ll know it was the Veynars who freed her. You must warn them.”
Kyler’s gaze sharpens, something almost pained behind it. “I’ll take care of it.” He and Selene exchange a look—understanding, final—and then he says only, “Go.”
A hawk explodes upward, wings slicing the air. Remli hesitates, eyes burning into us, then bolts the opposite way, drawing the danger with her.
That leaves the four of us and only two horses. Zillah swings up behind Selene without question. I whisper Kairas’s name, heart twisting, but Lowan steadies me. “He waits. Don’t worry.”
His hands are careful, almost reverent, as he lifts me to Zillah’s horse and swings up behind me. The heat of him is solid at my back, his cloak heavy around my shoulders.
And then we ride. The moment we cross the ward, I feel it—as if the air itself shudders, magic humming low in my bones. We’ve left that cursed fortress behind. I finally let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“You shifted,” I murmur to Lowan, still pressed close under his cloak.
“Yes.”
“In front of the others.”
His jaw flexes, but his voice is steady. “There were more important things than my secret.”
The words hit something soft inside me. He traded silence for me. He studies me a moment longer. “How did you know? That you were about to shift?”
I shake my head. “I don’t really know. I just…felt it. This surge, familiar somehow—like your magic tugged at mine. I just knew.”
His lips part, breath sharp. “It was incredible. To see it, to see you.”
I swallow hard. “But what even was it? I know I flew, but—”
“You don’t know?”
“No.” My voice cracks. “I only thought of escaping.”
He looks at me as if I’ve turned the world inside out. Then, soft as a prayer: “Metra… you were a phoenix. A burning phoenix. No one has seen one for thousands of years.”
The awe on their faces, Selene’s hand clutching her chest, Zillah’s silence—it all makes sense. I fall silent after that. We all do.
When I finally ask where we’re going, Lowan murmurs, “If I had to guess… back to the caves.”
The thought nearly undoes me. I imagine the hot spring swallowing the filth, the cold, the hands that had held me down. The horrors will remain inside, but at least I can wash away their stains.
We ride hard, not stopping until stone rises familiar before us. Inside, the cavern echoes with subdued quiet. Zillah’s jokes are gone. Selene’s voice is practical, clipped. “We can’t stay long. But long enough.” She presses spare clothes into Lowan’s hand.
He doesn’t speak. Just guides me back into the small chamber that feels like ours.
He sets the clothes aside, pulls off his boots, and lays down his weapons.
Then he slips the cloak from my shoulders, and I stand hollow, eyes flicking once to the sharp rocks near the water.
He was right... Too sharp. Another lifetime.
Before I can move, he lifts me. Carries me as if I weigh nothing. He wades in fully clothed, water rising around us, and lowers me into the heat.
There is nothing sensual in it. Only his hands, steady and gentle, cleansing every mark left behind. He unwraps my wrists, cleans the raw skin with infinite care. Neither of us speaks.
It’s not until his fingers thread through my hair, working out the dirt and tangles, that I break. My voice fractures. “My hair.”
He echoes softly, “Your hair.”
I can’t look at him. “I know I probably don’t look—”
His hands pause. “Metra.” His voice is firm, insistent, but gentle. He tilts my chin until our eyes meet. “I already told you. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Do you really think your hair would change that?”
A sob catches. “No, but—”
His hand comes to rest over my chest, where my heart beats wildly. “When I realized you were in danger…you don’t know what that did to me. What I would have done to bring you back.” His throat works, and then: “It’s always been you. Not your hair. Not your body. You.”
I finally meet his gaze—and see it. Tears carve tracks down his face. Something in me shatters. I clutch at his soaked shirt, fold into him, and sob until there’s nothing left. He holds me tight, steady as stone, while the water takes the rest.
I lose track of time in the water. Lowan holds me, unmoving, silent, his chest rising and falling steadily against mine.
He asks nothing of me, demands nothing, only lets me cry until I’m emptied.
His hand strokes down my arm once, then pauses when his gaze snags on my shoulders. I see his jaw tighten.
“I’ll speak to Selene,” he murmurs. “We’ll find a healer. We’ll erase every trace of what they did to you, so you’ll never have to look at it again.”
All I can do is nod. Somewhere deeper in the cave, voices drift closer. Selene. Zillah. Lowan sighs. “It’s probably time we moved on.”
He helps me out, drying us both with a ripple of magic. I sink into the clean clothes Selene provided—too airy and ethereal for me, but I’ve never been so grateful for fabric against my skin. He settles his cloak over my shoulders again.
“Won’t you need it?” I whisper.
“I’ll be fine.”
Outside, the air feels fresher, though shadows still press close. Lowan tells me softly to wait, then shifts, wings slicing into the night. My heart kicks hard at the sight.
While he’s gone, I glance at the others. Selene kneels by her horse, checking the reins. Zillah’s gaze finds mine. For once, she’s not smirking. Her voice is uncharacteristically sober.
“When we realized you were in trouble…” she shakes her head.
“Lowan held it together just long enough not to raise suspicion. But then he—” she lets out a low laugh of disbelief, “he went absolutely feral. Shifted right there on the spot and tried to fly straight back to the castle. My only option was to beg Selene to fire arrows at him—not to hit him, only to get him down long enough to think.”
I blink. “You made her shoot at him?”
“Wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.” Zillah shrugs. “I’ve never seen him lose control like that. We finally got him grounded long enough to rope in Kyler and Remli. They confirmed there was a prisoner hidden below—most of the King’s Guardians didn’t even know who. But we knew it was you.”
The rest spills out in clipped pieces: Kyler recovering my blades from the armory, Remli keeping watch, the plan to plant explosives throughout the dungeon.
Enough chaos to cover the fact that Lowan had to go in alone, with only Selene and Zillah holding the outer ground.
Enough for him to blast his way to me. My chest tightens. They risked everything—for me.
I swallow. “Where do we even go now? If the Veynar estate isn’t safe—”
Selene lifts her head. “We’ll go to my people.”
I stare at her.
“There’s a small village nearby with a healer,” she says, voice steady. “But if you think you can endure, it’s safer to keep moving. Our healers will tend to you once we arrive, and it will be a place for all of us to recover.”
“How far?”
“Far.” A faint smile ghosts across her lips. “They live on an island. The journey will not be short. But it will be worth it.”
Before I can answer, I feel a familiar tug. My head tilts up, but Lowan doesn’t descend from the sky—he rides out of the trees, reins in hand. My breath catches.
“Kairas,” I whisper.
Lowan swings down from the saddle, patting the stallion’s neck. “I wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed too closely. And to find him.” His eyes meet mine. “He was waiting.”
I press a trembling hand to Kairas’s nose, relief loosening something in me. For the first time in what feels like forever, the pieces of my world begin—just barely—to knit back together.
The days blur together. Selene leads us sure and silent, always finding the path that keeps us out of danger.
We move faster than we did before—no leisurely camps, no stolen laughter by the fire.
This time, we stop only long enough to rest the horses and gulp down a little food.
Sometimes, not even a fire, just a shimmer of warmth conjured by magic, before we push on again.
They never let me take a watch, though I offer.
Every time, it’s the same: Rest, Metra. You need it.
So I lie down, but sleep isn’t peace. Each time my eyes close, I see the king’s touch, the visions he forced into me, or the stone walls pressing close again.
I wake in a cold sweat, gasping. And Lowan is always there.
He never asks what I saw. Once, he says quietly, “If you ever want to talk…” And all I can whisper back is, “I know.” He doesn’t press me.
Just holds me until my body unclenches and I can drift again.
I notice the way Zillah speaks more softly now; the edge absent from her jokes. How Selene rarely leaves my side unless she’s scouting ahead. This group that once teased and tangled under the stars now moves with a single, solemn purpose: get me out, get me safe.
But my body is failing me. Every stride of the horse leaves me aching. My wrists throb. Food turns to ash in my mouth. I can’t remember the last time I felt truly hungry. I’m surviving on adrenaline and fragments of will, and I know it shows. They know it too.
A week passes this way—half-sleep, half-flight, nothing but movement. And then, one morning, the air shifts. Damp. Salty. I lift my head, and the faintest scent of brine brushes my nose—the sea.
I blink hard, heart leaping. “We’re close?” My voice sounds too small, too hopeful.
Lowan glances at me, eyes gentling. “Yes. We should reach it by tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. One more night. One more stretch of endurance. And then maybe, something new waits on the horizon.