Chapter 40
Forty
F laming arrows exploded from the walls. No warning glow this time. Their fiery tips arced through the air.
An arrow hurtled straight toward her. Alaire’s breath quickened, shallow and erratic. Time seemed to slow; sounds around her muffled.
The past crashed over her like a tide, dragging her under in memories of another place and time.
Air thick with decay and ash. Aurelia engulfed in flames.
Her throat raw from screaming. The last look on her parents’ faces—determination tinged with remorse.
Light was needed to defeat the endless shadows.
Rage, terror, and grief had consumed her; they still did.
The vampires were not vanquished. She was an orphan with no kingdom and no aether.
The shadows and fire beckoned her forward. It had all been for nothing.
“ Alaire ,” a voice called to her.
The haze thickened, shadows wrapping tighter, dragging her deeper.
“ Alaire ,” the voice snarled, desperate now.
Still she remained shrouded, until a clamoring cry screeched through the fog, shattering it. Warm feathers filled her grasp.
The arrow, now inches away, hissed with heat. Solflara didn’t hesitate. She snatched it from the air with her talons, dissolving it to ash.
“Thank the gods,” Alaire muttered—just as a second arrow spiraled toward them.
Instinct took over. She yanked Solflara hard to the left, forgetting the tether. It snapped like a rubber band, force rippling through the formation like a shockwave. The bindings jerked violently, throwing everyone off balance.
Beck let out a pained screech. His mighty wings faltered mid-flight.
“Something’s wrong. We need to land,” Dawson ordered, not meeting her eyes.
Twin waves of guilt and shame washed over her. This was her fault—her moment of weakness had left them vulnerable.
They descended to a cracked patch of dry earth nestled against the cavern wall.
A deep gash marred Beck’s paw, blood dripping steadily. Concern tightened Dawson’s jaw as he knelt beside the griffin. “Easy, boy.”
Alaire dismounted, her chest heavy. The memories of Starfall that had paralyzed her felt insignificant now compared to the danger she’d put her friends in.
Her instinct for self-preservation had harmed Beck, the guilt burning into her conscience like a brand—another reminder of failure she couldn’t escape.
Magma slithered across the floor. They couldn’t stay here long.
Before she could apologize, Caius erupted. “Are you insane?” he roared, eyes blazing. “Was it not crystal clear that we’re tethered and need to react accordingly?”
Alaire crossed her arms, nails biting into her sleeves to steady her shaking hands. “I had to dodge the arrow. Solflara destroyed the first, but I didn’t see the second coming. I should’ve called out the change in direction.”
Dawson knelt by Beck, jaw worked as he flexed Beck’s paw. The griffin screeched again, and Dawson soothed him with comforting strokes.
“I’m sorry.” The words fell flat. Inadequate. Beck’s pain cut deeper than Caius’s barbs ever could.
Dawson said nothing. Didn’t even acknowledge her.
“You’ve been leading us,” Caius spat. “Look what happened to Beck. You did that. Dawson should’ve taken the lead. If he had, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Alaire gripped her elbows. Beck’s pained whimper made her stomach twist with guilt.
“Cut it out.” Kaia gestured sharply. “We don’t have time for this. Beck’s the priority right now.”
Caius pressed on despite Kaia’s warning. “And what about what happened before the arrow?” His tone was full of disgust. “It was like you were in a trance—you froze. Dawson told me all about your past, Alaire. Everything you touch turns to ash. Well, I’m not going to let it be Dawson next.”
The words landed like blows. Maybe Caius was right—everything she touched turned to ruin.
Solflara surged protectively through the bond.
“ I’d be doing us a favor if you let me melt the skin clean off his bones ,” the phoenix growled. “ The dirt beneath my claws is worth more than this male .”
“ I can’t .”
“ You’ll change your mind .”
Alaire fought to control her anger, but Caius had cut deep—exactly as he meant to.
“Spare me,” she snapped. “You think your little dossier gives you the right to judge me? Let me make something very clear, Caius Vale—you do not want me as an enemy.”
She stepped closer, gaze searing into him. She’d tried to take the high road, but enough was enough. “I would never let anything harm Dawson. Unlike you, sneaking off on your midnight errands like they won’t blow up in your face.”
Caius’s face contorted, fury rippling through the corded muscles of his neck.
She leaned forward, voice a snarl. “Mention my parents again, and I’ll make sure you understand what real suffering feels like.” They weren’t empty threats.
Kaia shoved between them. “Enough. Beck needs help—not this.”
Behind them, Dawson focused entirely on his griffin, never once looking her way. She almost wished he’d be furious, that he’d blame her outright. His quiet disappointment was so much worse.
Beck let out another cry, and something cracked inside Alaire’s chest. This beautiful, innocent creature was suffering because of her choices.
Ignoring Kaia, Caius squared his shoulders, his stare drilling into her. “Your petty threats don’t scare me. I’ve faced monsters that make your phoenix look like a flaming parrot.”
“ Oh , I’ll show him a flaming parrot . Let’s hear his opinion when he’s a pile of ash .” Solflara’s indignation flared hot down the bond.
Alaire’s lips twitched. “Careful, Caius. You’re dangerously close to becoming a cooked parrot.”
“I might have grown up with privilege, but you’re hardly the only person familiar with suffering or loss. Unlike you, though, I don’t use it as an excuse to lash out at those around me.”
The words sliced deep, slipping between her ribs like a blade. Her mouth parted slightly, doubt paralyzing her.
“Let’s not forget”—Caius leaned in, voice dripping with disdain—“that you’re probably using Dawson somehow to further your own goals. We all see it.”
Her throat tightened, shame crawling up her spine. There was truth in what Caius was saying.
“Careful, Caius,” Dawson warned.
His defense twisted something sharp in Alaire’s chest. She didn’t deserve it. Caius was wrong about many things, but not this. She was determined to dismantle the very system Dawson was sworn to protect.
Caius cocked his head toward Dawson. “I’m only saying what everyone else on campus thinks.”
But Caius wasn’t done trying to prove she was the monster he wanted her to be.
“Let’s not ignore your prejudice against the fae.
I saw you at the Celestial Cascade Ball, stepping in front of the humans instead of the fae.
It’s clear where your loyalties lie—always ready to protect the humans, always willing to sacrifice us . ”
Alaire’s eyes narrowed. “The fae had magic to protect themselves. The humans had nothing. You’re right—I stepped in front of them because I care, and I would do the same for anyone else. That’s called compassion, Caius.”
“Excuses, excuses, I see nothing but a scared little girl with no magic, no home. You have nothing because you are nothing ,” Caius spat.
“Caius.” Dawson’s gaze lifted from Beck.
Caius opened his mouth, but before he could get another word in, Dawson said, “Say her name again. I dare you.”
Beck let out a pained screech. The silence that followed was thick with simmering resentment.
Alaire turned away from Caius, her chest twisting at the pain clouding the griffin’s eyes. The injury on his paw made her wince. Her gaze moved from Beck to Dawson’s careful hands, to Kaia’s worried face, to the heavy tension suffocating their group.
This atmosphere was tearing them apart when they needed each other most.
Every piece of Alaire felt utterly drained. Their confrontation had siphoned all her energy. Anger had been her shield, a survival mechanism she clung to, but maybe—for Dawson and Beck, for Kaia and Hadrian, for any chance they had of making it through this alive—she could try something different.
She thought about all the times she’d latched onto her rage, believing it the only thing that kept her strong. But holding onto it now wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t heal Beck. It wouldn’t help them work together.
She had to be the one to take the first step.
“I don’t like you, Caius,” Alaire said. “But I won’t let it stand in the way of completing the trial, and I definitely don’t want it leading to anyone else getting hurt.” She looked directly at Beck, then back to Caius. “We need to work together if we’re going to survive this.”
She hesitated before extending her hand. “Truce? Until we’re through the trial?”
Caius stared at it for several long seconds, eyes darting to Dawson, then to Beck’s injured form. Finally, reluctantly, he clasped hers in a firm but brief handshake.
“For the trial,” he said curtly. No apology, no admission of fault.
“Fair enough.”
He released her hand, expression still guarded but less hostile.
Dawson turned toward them, brows pinched with worry. “His pain’s getting worse. We’ll have to wrap up his paw and see if he can continue.”
“ Let me try something ,” Solflara insisted. “ Don’t worry — I’ll walk Beck through it first .”
“Solflara wants to try something,” Alaire relayed. “She’ll explain it to Beck before she begins. Are you alright with that?”
Dawson’s eyes widened, raw fear for his griffin plain. “Anything that could help.”
Alaire nodded to Solflara, giving her the go-ahead.
Her phoenix approached slowly, feathers glowing incandescently. She extended her wing, wrapping it around Beck’s scorch mark. A soft, white light enveloped them both. Beck let out a relieved sigh.
Warmth flooded their bond like honey.
When Solflara drew back, the scorch mark was gone.
“Thank you,” Dawson said thickly, emotion roughening his voice.
Fatigue swelled through the bond, nearly buckling Alaire’s knees.
“ You healed him ,” Alaire whispered, awestruck. She hadn’t known, hadn’t anticipated this .
Her gaze lingered on her celestial. She would never again underestimate the depth of what Solflara could do. The power of both destruction and life. Fire that could burn to ash yet spark something new from its embers.
“ It is not something I offer lightly. I can only use that power on myself, my bonded, or other creatures. The difference is that as my bonded, you may bestow it on others—but not without great cost .”
Alaire let out a tiny gasp, recalling the time Sofllara told her she couldn’t do anything when Alaire demanded she use her magic to help Kaia.
After the bloodravager attack, Solflara had insisted she tried, but the poison hadn’t reacted to her magic.
It wasn’t magic the poison resisted but her healing power.
It explained so much.
No wonder Solflara was depleted. Healing Beck must’ve taken an immeasurable toll.
Alaire’s chest tightened. “ Solflara , you didn’t have to ?—”
“ Yes , I did . Our error caused Beck’s injury . I could’ve absorbed the arrow , but I was distracted , too focused on you . I should’ve caught it . And we must continue with the trial . It is not safe to linger . I’ll be fine .”
“Thank you,” Dawson said softly to Solflara, bowing his head to hers in the same gesture he often gave Beck.
Beneath them, the ground began to shake. Magma geysers erupted, spitting lava in every direction. Solflara raised her wings to shield the group. The ground buckled and split.
“Back in the air! Now!” Kaia shouted. They scrambled onto their celestials, desperate to gain altitude as the cavern cracked beneath them.
Just as the geysers subsided, another wave of arrows rained down. Dawson took lead formation, with Alaire on the right flank.
“Dive,” Dawson ordered. The group plunged, barely avoiding another casualty.
Alaire’s eyes caught the last arrow streaking toward Caius and Onyx. “Caius, watch out!” she cried, keeping Solflara close to the group to preserve formation. Onyx screeched in terror, bracing for impact.
Solflara let out a piercing cry and dove in front of the arrow. It struck her—but instead of piercing through, it disintegrated on impact. Her flames merged with the fire-tipped shaft until nothing remained.
The group tilted to compensate for Solflara’s dive. Hadrian let out an indignant huff.
“Everyone okay back there?” Dawson asked, turquoise eyes scanning Alaire.
Butterflies erupted in her stomach. “All good,” she stammered.
Caius stared in stunned silence, then met her eyes. For a moment, appreciation—almost respect—flickered there before it was gone.
“Alright, let’s move.”
With Dawson at the helm, they pressed on, dodging magma eruptions and arrow volleys. The tether no longer felt suffocating.
They flew as one now, synchronized.
Tension lingered, hairline cracks waiting to splinter under pressure. Yet for the first time, a fragile sense of unity bound them. The path to trust—maybe even friendship—would be long, but small stepping stones of possibility stretched where none had before.
Gratitude swelled in her chest as her fingers twined deeper into Solflara’s feathers—her bossy, stubborn, but selfless friend.
A tearing sound echoed through the cavern. The air shimmered ahead until a swirling wormhole solidified, edges hazy.
“There!” Kaia pointed as it stabilized.
“About fucking time,” Dawson muttered, guiding Beck through first.
“Get me out of here,” Caius grumbled.
As Alaire followed through the portal, heaviness settled in her chest, an insidious thought taking root: Whatever awaited would test them in ways she couldn’t yet fathom.