Chapter 32 Violet
Violet
Bronwen’s brows lifted just a fraction.
Sebastian went very still.
My heart kicked once in my chest, sharp and surprised.
Training with Adar had never been offered before. It had always been assigned. Enforced. Endured. Every session had felt like a test of patience and pride and which one of us would finally snap first.
And yet—
Something about the way he’d said it was different.
I swallowed and set my cup down slowly, buying myself a second to think. I hated training. Hated the endless drills, the repetition, the way my muscles screamed long before my power ever did. I hated the way my temper always followed close behind.
But since we’d been locked together underground, the animosity seemed to lift between us. And I couldn’t risk us going back.
“Yes,” I said before I could talk myself out of it.
Adar studied my face like he was checking for hesitation, for the slightest sign that I might regret the answer the moment it left my mouth. When he didn’t find any, he gave a single, decisive nod.
“After breakfast,” he said.
I picked my cup back up, though my pulse had started humming faintly under my skin. I had no idea what this new version of us was going to look like. But for the first time since Adar had started training me, the thought of stepping onto the training ground didn’t feel like punishment.
It felt like progress.
* * *
The training yard rang with the sound of wood striking wood.
My palms stung as my staff met Adar’s again, the impact shuddering up my arms and into my shoulders. He didn’t ease up. He never did. Every strike was precise and controlled, designed to push me just past where I thought my limit was and see what I did when I got there.
But this time, I didn’t fold.
I pivoted instead, letting the next blow glide past my shoulder as I shifted my weight and countered. Heat hummed under my skin, my gifts pressing harder against my ribs, but I let the energy move without actually using it. The power flowed with my breathing instead of fighting it.
My movements were cleaner now. Less frantic. I could feel the difference in the way my weight stayed centered, in how my breath didn’t hitch every time I went on the offensive.
“Again,” Adar said.
We reset without another word. I rolled my shoulders, flexed my fingers around the staff, and stepped forward.
On the benches, Sebastian and Bronwen silently watched.
I ducked the next strike and snapped the staff toward Adar’s ribs.
He blocked it, but the force of the hit made me shift back half a step.
Sebastian clicked his tongue. “You brace on the left first,” he said. “Stop doing that.”
I shot him a look without breaking stance. “You want to come down here and demonstrate?”
His mouth curved faintly. “No.”
Bronwen snorted.
I parried another strike, breath coming faster now as the staff cracked against Adar’s again. “Helpful.”
Sebastian leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest. “Just trying to help.”
Adar attacked again—harder this time—and I barely managed to twist away. The staff vibrated painfully in my grip, frustration flaring hot and sharp in my chest.
You did it again, Sebastian said down the bond.
I spun, planted my feet, and glanced back at him.
“Do you think you could do better?”
The yard went very still.
Sebastian’s brows lifted slowly. “Excuse me?”
“I mean,” I said, adjusting my grip on the staff even though my pulse had started racing, “I know the terrifying, all-powerful Shadow King can just kill everyone with his shadows.” I flicked my gaze pointedly to where they curled innocently around his boots. “But what would happen if you couldn’t?”
Adar laughed.
Actually laughed.
I never thought I’d see the day.
Bronwen straightened on the bench, her eyes lighting up like she’d just been handed front-row seats to a disaster she’d been hoping for all morning. Sebastian studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Then he said mildly, “You’re just trying to get out of training. It’s not going to work.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “If you’re scared Adar’s going to beat you, just say that.”
Adar threw his hand up. “Wait a minute. I have no part in this.”
Sebastian stood anyway.
When he reached us, I extended the wooden staff toward him.
He didn’t even glance at it as he leaned into my ear. “I prefer close contact, love.”
My stomach flipped traitorously.
Adar lifted a finger between them. “No shadows,” he said. “That’s cheating.”
Sebastian’s mouth twitched faintly as he clutched his chest. “You wound me.”
The shadows retreated at once, and the air around him shifted immediately as his shield of protection dissolved.
It was just Sebastian now.
I dropped down onto the bench beside Bronwen, breath still a little uneven from training.
“Gods, this is going to be good,” Bronwen said.
Sebastian rolled his shoulders once. When he lifted his gaze to Adar, the teasing that had been there moments ago had disappeared entirely. What remained was focus.
“Come on,” he said, motioning Adar forward.
Adar didn’t hesitate. He came in hard and direct, exactly the way he fought me—no wasted movement, no theatrics.
His opening strike was brutal, meant to test Sebastian’s guard and force a reaction.
Sebastian didn’t retreat. Instead he shifted just enough to let the blow slide past his shoulder as he stepped inside Adar’s space, moving so close the distance between them vanished almost instantly.
Adar adjusted immediately. His second strike came faster, but Sebastian was already there, catching his wrist and turning with the momentum instead of fighting it.
The movement redirected the force rather than resisting it, and the two of them pivoted together across the ground like dancers who had practiced the same step a hundred times.
It took me a second to understand what I had just seen.
Sebastian wasn’t fighting against him.
He was controlling him.
Adar tried to sweep Sebastian’s legs out from under him, a move he had used on me more than once. Sebastian hopped the attempt easily, pivoted with the motion, and tapped two fingers against Adar’s ribs in the space where a blade would have slipped between bones.
“Dead,” Bronwen murmured beside me.
Adar grunted, already resetting his stance. He came again immediately, faster now, striking in a tight series meant to overwhelm Sebastian’s guard before he could redirect the movement.
Sebastian met him head-on. Their forearms collided and for a moment they grappled, each trying to break the other’s balance.
Adar attempted to force the advantage through sheer strength, but Sebastian twisted instead, breaking the hold with a sharp shift of his weight and sending Adar stumbling back two steps.
“Come on now, I’ve seen you go after Violet harder than this,” Sebastian mocked.
Adar moved again before the words had fully settled. This time the attack was relentless, forcing Sebastian to give ground step by step. Sebastian yielded exactly three before his stance changed, subtle enough that it took me a moment to notice.
The rhythm of the fight shifted with it.
Sebastian ducked under Adar’s arm, spun behind him, and caught him at the elbow. His grip locked the joint long enough to prove he could dislocate it if he wanted to. The control was absolute.
Then he released it.
Bronwen leaned slightly toward me. “Show-off,” she muttered.
I barely heard her. My focus was locked entirely on Sebastian.
Because this version of him felt different.
There were no shadows moving at his feet. No magic humming beneath his skin, waiting to swallow the world whole. He was just moving—faster and more precise than I had ever seen him.
Adar lunged again, testing a different angle. Sebastian slipped the strike and redirected the movement into the ground, breaking their contact almost immediately.
“Your right side opens when you overcommit,” Sebastian said calmly.
They collided again, faster now. Adar managed to catch Sebastian’s shoulder this time, forcing him back a half step. Sebastian countered immediately, knocking Adar off balance with a sharp strike to the ribs.
Bronwen nudged my shoulder lightly. “Try breathing,” she said. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I’m not,” I murmured.
But I didn’t look away.
The fight ended as quickly as it had begun. Adar swung high, trying to force Sebastian to block. Instead Sebastian slipped beneath the strike, caught his arm, and turned the movement into a controlled lock that would have dropped Adar flat on the ground if he had followed through.
He didn’t.
He simply released him and stepped back. The yard fell silent. Sebastian stood there, calm and steady, his breathing even as if he had barely exerted himself.
Adar exhaled once and rolled his shoulders again before stepping back. “Okay. I’m done.”
Sebastian inclined his head slightly. “You’re improving.”
Bronwen snorted softly as Adar muttered something under his breath as he walked away.
Sebastian’s gaze shifted to me then. “Is that what you wanted to see, love?”
Heat stirred low in my chest.
I had always known Sebastian was lethal. Everyone did. But watching him fight without shadows, without magic, without the terrifying advantage everyone assumed he relied on, made me look at him differently.
The shadows weren’t what made him dangerous.
They were just an extension of it.
* * *
“The supplies arrived,” I said as Sebastian and Adar stepped into the war room.
They had been in the throne room for hours dealing with Night Realm matters while Bronwen and I worked through the lists Alastor had sent earlier that morning.
The Ocean Realm’s shipment had come in just after midday, and most of the afternoon had been spent sorting through crates and recording everything they’d provided.
Grain, dried fish, preserved fruits, salted meats.
Barrels of fresh water. Medical supplies.
Bolts of fabric for bandages and tents. Oil for lanterns.
Crates of arrowheads, spare bowstrings, and replacement spear shafts.
Even several bundles of heavy rope and travel packs that had clearly been meant for soldiers on the move.
Sebastian crossed the room and pressed a brief kiss to my forehead before taking the seat beside me. “Good,” he said.
I slid a sheet in front of him. “And the armory looks untouched.”
“Good.”
“Now we just wait on the fae.”
I waited for Adar’s usual dry comment. Instead, he stepped closer to the table and leaned over Bronwen’s shoulder, studying the notes she’d been writing.
For a while, the room filled with the quiet rhythm of work.
Sebastian reviewed the supply lists beside me, occasionally making small adjustments to the guard placements on the map spread across the table.
Adar began marking the Ocean Realm trade routes Bronwen had mentioned earlier, his handwriting sharp and efficient as he redrew several of the paths.
Bronwen flipped through another stack of parchment, muttering occasionally when she found something she didn’t like.
And then I noticed their glamours. It rippled faintly around both Bronwen and Adar.
Bronwen leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head before reaching for another parchment. Adar didn’t even seem to notice my staring as he shifted his weight. I stared for another moment.
I didn’t always see it. It revealed itself to me only if I was looking at the right time.
Then the question slipped out before I could stop it.
“Can I see what you look like?”
Bronwen blinked at me slowly. “What?”
I gestured vaguely between her and Adar.
“The glamour,” I said. “I can see it moving and frankly, I’m a little annoyed that I have no idea what you truly look like.”
Adar looked at me then.
Bronwen, however, looked almost amused. “You can see it?”
“Yes.”
Adar muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘of course she can.’
I leaned forward slightly. “So… Can I see what you really look like?”
Bronwen looked at Sebastian. “I don’t see why not,” she said.
Sebastian didn’t argue. He simply lifted a hand and let the magic unravel.
When the glamour dissolved, Bronwen looked exactly how Sebastian had described her. Her skin remained the same warm tan, but her hair darkened, the deep red fading into glossy black that fell down her back in loose wave. And her eyes were blood-red. I forced myself not to react
She looked… mostly the same.
But Adar—
My brain stalled for a moment.
Why was he punishing himself by looking like that when he really looked like this?
I had grown used to the version of him he showed the world—nearly translucent skin, long black hair always tied neatly at the nape of his head, black eyes. The glamour made him appear… fragile. Sickly, even.
This man was nothing like that.
His skin was the same warm tan as Bronwen’s. His eyes were green—exactly the same shade I had grown used to seeing on Bronwen. His hair was still black but cut short, falling just slightly across his forehead.
And he was—
Well.
Very much not fragile.
The glamour had hidden the breadth of his shoulders and the muscle in his arms completely. And he was very…
Attractive.
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it again.
I had absolutely no idea what to say.
Bronwen broke the silence.
“Gods, Adar,” she said, leaning back in her chair as she looked him over. “I’d forgotten how much better you used to look.”
He nudged her shoulder with his elbow.
She shoved him right back.
And that was when I saw it.
Bronwen’s sleeve shifted just enough that the fabric slid back along her arm. Black veins spidered beneath the skin of her left forearm. The sight of them made cold settle in my chest.
“You tried to destroy the blade yourself,” I whispered.
Bronwen followed my gaze down to her arm.
For a moment, something flickered across her face. It happened quickly—so quickly most people might have missed it—but I saw the shift in her emotions before she smoothed it away.
“I failed,” she said simply.
Adar had seen it too. His posture tightened slightly before he looked at Sebastian.“Change us back.”
The glamour slid back into place a heartbeat later, the air rippling softly as their appearances shifted again into the versions the rest of the world knew.
The moment passed.
But the image of those black veins stayed burned into my mind.