Chapter 48
Forty-Eight
D arkness was all there had been—and all there ever was.
The slices against her skin burned, but worse was the venom seeping into each wound, slowing her limbs, making her thoughts slog through thick fog. Pain, though, was something she welcomed. It had always been easier to hold onto than grief.
As the feeding intensified, something deep within tugged her toward what she most needed to remember.
Her mother’s melodic voice tumbled over her, briefly wrapping around her like a warm blanket before flitting away.
Fighting to stay conscious, Alaire latched onto the rhythmic cadence of the old fable.
It thrummed through her, spinning round and round until it drowned out her own ragged breathing and the familiar tightness in her chest. Her mother had always said that all stories, even fables, were rooted in truth.
“Lysia was beloved by all in Elithian. Her light helped the realm flourish. After all, the sun is the brightest star of them all. But balance in all things was required.”
Balance. The word echoed in her skull.
“Umbra ruled the night, but darkness isn’t evil. Everything begins in darkness. It is because of the dark that light shines through. But jealousy is a cruel and vicious monster, turning even the best of us into something unrecognizable.”
Her body burned hot. Somewhere in the haze, she thought she heard, “ We are only beginning our fun ,” followed by the snap of teeth—before she was dragged back under.
“During the year of a hundred storms, Aurelia suffered a great calamity. Cut off from the rest of Elithian, its people starved and grew sick. Out of desperation, Queen Lila Vallorian traveled alone to the sacred Ashen Grove, where she had first bonded with her phoenix.
“For three days and nights, she knelt in prayer, begging Lysia to save her dying kingdom. On the third dawn, Lysia herself appeared. Moved by Lila’s selfless devotion and pure heart, the goddess touched the queen’s brow.
‘Your bloodline shall carry my light through the dark times. One day, shadows will threaten to consume all. When that happens, your line will stand as guardians between the light and the void.’
“ Lila emerged from the Ashen Grove transformed. Her eyes now held flecks of gold like captured sunlight. The storms ended that very day, and Aurelia flourished once more.”
If she focused hard enough, Alaire could almost feel her mother’s fingers brushing her hair from her forehead.
But the memory fractured, shifting from fable to warning. Alaire clung to the images of her mother, desperate not to let them go.
Shadows flicked across the walls, geometric shapes engraved into every inch. She tried to turn her head, but searing pain bloomed at her neck as teeth sank into her flesh. The venom spread quickly, constricting her airways, making each breath a struggle.
Her memories tugged her from the agony worming into every cell.
The horizon stretched in strokes of pink, violet, and orange. Golden beams spilled against the alabaster and rose quartz of the palace gardens.
Alaire rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her mother had woken her on the morning of her tenth birthday, before the castle had sprung to life.
Agony yanked her back to the present—a brutal tug at her veins. Alaire’s head lolled to the side, the scent of iron thick in her nostrils. A cold claw gripped her jaw, forcing it still.
The pull dragged her deeper into the memory.
She was back in Dawnspire, following her mother into the throne room.
“Sitting on that throne is a sacred duty, a solemn responsibility that will one day be bestowed upon you by the people of Aurelia,” her mother said.
Queen Elara came up behind her, placing warm hands on her daughter’s shoulders.
“The crown is not a symbol of power but of service. Wear it with humility. It is your foremost duty to your people. Do not turn away from hardship. Courage is acknowledging your fear, harnessing it, and moving forward despite it.”
A gasp tore from Alaire’s throat as poison blazed through her body, skin burning as if flayed from her body.
“ In diversity, there is strength. Embrace different voices and perspectives. Ensure they have a voice, and more importantly, the chance to use it. Whatever answers you need will always be found inside you. And always lead with love.”
Tears blurred Alaire’s eyes. She couldn’t tell if they were her own or the memory’s.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Her mother spun her gently to face her.
“Because you are my heir. Soon, you’ll begin training to one day wear the crown. My mother spoke the same words to me on my tenth birthday. They’ve always given me strength.”
The hot breath of a creature hovered near Alaire’s throat. The present pressed in—then slipped away.
Her mother stroked her wavy hair.
“What is it?”
Alaire gritted her teeth against the pain, but the memory pulled deeper into her mother’s presence.
Queen Elara clasped her daughter’s hands, guiding her toward the steps of the dais bathed in buttery light.
“When Lila traveled into the Ashen Grove long ago, Lysia bestowed a gift to her. It was to be entrusted to each female heir of the Vallorian line, and it must remain secret.”
The ground trembled—or perhaps it was only her bones cracking.
Queen Elara clutched Alaire’s hands tightly.
“Everything in this world requires balance. But there are always those who seek to disrupt it.”
“Like the vampires.”
Her mother nodded gravely.
“What Lysia left in the care of the Vallorian line was the Star of Eternal Night, an artifact of immense power that could shatter that balance. In enemy hands, it could end life on Elithian as we know it. With it, they could lift their curse and walk in the light. Their leader will stop at nothing—nothing—to be master of both light and darkness. Master of all things.”
Her mother’s gaze softened at Alaire’s stunned expression—slack jaw, wide eyes, flushed cheeks.
And in another world, Alaire screamed.
“ The venom works quickly on this one .” Her body flinched as something scraped against her exposed skin.
The pull dragged her deeper until another memory swelled.
Death pressed against her on all sides, giving no reprieve. In what would be the last moments of her mother’s life, Queen Elara wrapped Alaire tightly in her arms. If she focused hard enough, she could still feel the ghost of that embrace.
Her mother’s whisper brushed her ear: “Keep the Star safe at all costs. It will guide you. Trust in yourself. Remember, you are never alone. We are with you always.”
Fangs tore deeper into Alaire, pumping more venom through her veins. Her body convulsed, heart racing as it fought against poison meant to keep her conscious but helpless.
Tears welled as she hugged her mother back just as fiercely. “I will. I promise.”
She wished, more than anything, she could stay in that moment.
“Never let anyone extinguish your light,” her mother said, placing a hand over her heart. “Let the Star guide you.”
Another vicious bite sent fire through her limbs, heavy and sluggish with venom.
Her parents walked out to the balcony side by side, shoulders squared, spines straight, choosing sacrifice.
Phoenix fire was their last, best weapon against the darkness the Voidshade Sovereign had unleashed.
Her mother’s words echoed: Courage is acknowledging your fear, harnessing it, and moving forward despite it.
The venom had thickened her blood, slowed her body—but with every drop, her fury burned hotter.
What her parents did that night was was an act courage.
Rage. Pure, molten rage coursed through her veins like liquid fire.
The memory crystallized with brutal clarity: her parents had sacrificed everything—their lives, their kingdom, their people—to keep her safe.
And in return, she’d been given a childhood of hunger and fear.
Years of sleeping in filthy alleys, of selling pieces of her soul just to survive another day.
Years of fighting against her own lungs.
They had died believing she would be protected. Instead, she’d been thrown to the wolves.
This pain was different. It clawed through every broken promise, every moment she should’ve been safe but wasn’t, every night she’d gone hungry while the fae lived in luxury, protected by the Consortium’s laws.
It scraped past flesh and bone, anchoring itself in the fury that had kept her alive all these years.
Sharp pinpricks of fangs burned like brands on her skin. A brutal strike to her ribs, followed by a high-pitched squeal of delight. Her chest seized, airways narrowing as panic and venom conspired to steal what little breath she had left.
But weakness wasn’t what burned in her chest now. It was wrath—white-hot and unforgiving—reawakened by another life so callously taken from her.
She had recently learned to release the anger that poisoned her. But this fury—the fire for those who destroyed innocent lives—this she would keep. This she would wield.
Because what the hybrids tasted in her blood, yet could not see, was that the Star of Eternal Night had been placed within her. To protect above all else.
The vampires had attacked Aurelia to claim it.
Her parents had given their lives to keep it safe.
All the flashbacks, every fractured memory, returned in the order it was meant to. Professor Ross’s words had been hints, but her mother’s last warning was the key. That was how she knew.
By luck, she had kept it hidden this long. But luck hadn’t kept her alive. Her rage had. Her refusal to break, to bow—that was what saved her.
The vampires had taken everything, everyone she’d ever loved. And she was done being their victim.
Her family was lost, but she was not the helpless princess they had died to protect.
She was something else entirely—something forged in the fires of loss and tempered by years of survival.
The girl who once tried on her mother’s crown was gone.
In her place stood a woman who had learned to kill without hesitation.