Chapter 49 #2
“You were injured,” Caius said, voice flat but firm.
She waved him off.
“Another portal opened,” Archer cut in. “Headmaster Carth and I were on the other side. Something had gone wrong. You four and your celestials weren’t supposed to separate—it wasn’t part of the trial’s design.
When Dawson, Beck, Solflara, and you went missing, the Consortium panicked.
The heir of House Aetheris disappearing in a trial of their making? That was not going to be ignored.”
Alaire’s nails dug into the underside of the table. “The Consortium designed the trial?”
Kaia hesitated. “It was Dexter who designed this year’s trial.”
Of course it was. Alaire’s eyes snapped to Caius.
“Can’t say that I’m surprised.” The pieces she’d been assembling began to take form.
Her gaze swept to Dawson.
“We crossed the portal, but I lost my hold on you somewhere in the transition. We landed on a massive semicircular platform with a domed barrier, shapes scorched into the ground around us. No matter what we tried, we couldn’t break out.” Dawson ran a hand through his hair.
“We tried to get Solflara to reach you, but the connection was suppressed. The magic that kept us trapped affected the bond. We waited and waited. The barrier crept in tighter and tighter. Then, without warning, it just fell. No fight. No explanation. Anticlimactic and full of worry.”
“ The prince is neglecting to mention he nearly tore his hair out by the roots , pacing like a caged predator ,” Solflara said down the bond.
Her chest tightened at the thought of Dawson being so unraveled because of her. It sent an illicit thrill through her.
She hadn’t realized everyone’s eyes were on her. Concern. Curiosity. The weight of their attention pressed down on her. She dragged her palms down her leathers, seeking steadiness.
Kaia’s gentle voice broke the silence. “Alaire… what really happened?”
Alaire hesitated. When her gaze lifted, she found no judgment in her friend’s eyes.
And so she told them. The monsters melded into hybrids. Professor Ross’s rescue and sacrifice. The Voidshade Sovereign. Her power. Her acceptance.
“So the Voidshade Sovereign—the leader, the one who’s responsible for Starfall—is back?” Archer asked, incredulous.
Alaire bobbed her head. “I don’t think he ever really left.”
Kaia blinked. “What do you mean?”
“The Voidshade Sovereign, like all vampires, is neither truly alive nor dead. They exist in between. Somehow, he survived my mother’s flames.
His only purpose is to rule a world that submits entirely to him—and to break Umbra’s curse so they can walk in the light.
” She squared her shoulders. “He won’t stop until he succeeds…
or he’s destroyed. The hybrids are only the beginning. Now he, too, has creatures with wings.”
A murmur rippled through her friends. Sharp intakes of breath. Muttered curses. Determination kindled with fear.
“I’ve seen what they can do,” Alaire said, tone hardening. “What they did to Dawnspire— my home —just to get to me. And I won’t let them raze the world my parents gave their lives to protect. I’ll use everything I have, everything I am, to destroy him.”
Kaia leaned forward. “How do we stop them?”
Alaire glanced at Dawson. “I don’t know yet. Too many pieces are missing to see the full picture. There’s so much we don’t yet understand. But I do have a few ideas on where to begin.” So much that she still had to learn before she could face the Voidshade Sovereign.
The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.
One by one, her friends nodded.
“Whatever you need. We support you,” Kaia declared. No hesitation. No doubt.
Something in Alaire she thought forever broken was mended at those words. Collectively, they would carry on what her parents could not.
But there was one more thing. Her throat tightened.
“There’s something else,” she choked out.
The air thickened with anticipation.
Alaire swallowed hard. Once she said it, there would be no going back. “Long ago, Lysia gave an artifact to the Vallorian royal line. It’s called the Star of Eternal Night.”
An audible gasp echoed through the room. She knew why.
The artifact lived in folklore, tucked into lullabies and half-remembered stories.
Shock rippled across their faces. Kaia’s eyes went wide. Archer pursed his lips. Caius sat stoically.
Dawson’s reaction surprised her the most. For the briefest moment, his expression faltered. Remorse flickered in his eyes.
Alaire’s heart swelled. She gave him a hopeful smile, trying to convey she knew she wasn’t alone.
She let out a slow breath and continued.
“It’s an artifact. A force that could tip the balance in this war.
One my parents died to protect—one I must protect at all costs.
The Voidshade Sovereign has been hunting it for decades.
Everyone he’s killed, everything he’s destroyed—it’s all been to find this.
In the wrong hands, it could destroy Elithian. ”
Dawson cleared his throat. “This secret stays in this room.”
It was a command from a prince, not a request.
“It won’t.”
Dawson’s head snapped toward Caius. “What do you mean?”
Caius’s hands gripped the table, knuckles bone white.
For the first time since she’d known him, he looked…
uncertain. Almost guilty. “I mean, the Consortium already suspects Alaire is hiding something. No one believed she was truly uninterested in claiming her throne. Why do you think they let her remain at Aeris Academy? Keep your enemies close, and all that.”
“But she’s not an enemy.”
“She’s not from Cielore, Dawson. You are the Prince of House Aetheris. At the time, I thought what I was doing was in the best interest of Cielore.”
Alaire’s hand moved instinctively, fingers brushing Dawson’s knee. “Suspicion doesn’t guarantee guilt, though, Caius.”
“Correct. But my father is nothing if not resourceful. You established yourself as a threat, Alaire. Antagonized his position.” He looked down at his hands, shame etched across his features.
“He always planned for you to face a different third trial than everyone else. Didn’t matter if it was right under Headmaster Carth’s nose. ”
Dawson’s jaw flexed. His chair clattered to the ground as he slammed his fists on the table. “This entire time, you knew—and you didn’t say anything?”
“All I knew was that he meant to uncover what you were hiding. I didn’t know what it was, but I assumed it would be dangerous,” Caius said, voice hollow, the usual arrogance stripped away.
“It’s why you insisted on staying with Kaia,” Alaire whispered.
He nodded. “I couldn’t risk her in whatever he planned for the last sector.”
“How could you?” Kaia’s voice broke with anguish.
“But I had no idea he would go to such lengths, or with whom…”
They all knew now who “with whom” meant.
“Why are you telling us this now?” Alaire asked, studying his face.
Caius’s gaze slid carefully to Kaia. “Because if my father was willing to go that far for ambition, there’s no telling what else he might do. Despite what you think of me, honor means something to me. And he crossed a line when he colluded with them .”
Kaia’s face crumpled. The betrayal stark across her features made Alaire’s chest tighten. Archer leaned closer, draping an arm around the back of her chair.
Caius’s eyes stayed fixed on Kaia. The fragile thread connecting them frayed, unraveling beneath the weight of his confession.
Dawson remained silent.
Alaire crossed her arms, staring at the vaulted ceiling though she wasn’t really seeing it. She’d shared secrets her parents had died to protect—bled to protect—with people she thought she could trust. And not even a breath later, she discovered there were traitors in their midst.
“So you stayed silent, knowing full well the danger could’ve killed us. And now you choose to say something?” Her voice was cold, every word plucked to deliberately hit their mark.
Her gaze flicked to Kaia before narrowing on Caius. “You talk about honor as if it’s sacred to you. But where was it when we needed it? When Kaia—when all of us—trusted you?”
The words hung heavy.
Caius broke the silence first. “I didn’t think he’d ever take those kinds of risks.
Honestly, I didn’t realize the lengths he was willing to go until you shared what happened.
” His throat bobbed. “He refused to tell me what went on, only that it was in Cielore’s best interest. I never thought anyone’s lives were at stake. ”
Alaire glared at him. “You let us walk into a trap, Caius. You let me walk into a trap. How are we supposed to trust you now?”
He met her harsh stare, unflinching. Guilt simmered beneath the surface.
“I won’t ask for forgiveness,” he said flatly. “But I’m here now. Sharing what I know.”
Alaire leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Why? What changed?”
For a breath, Caius said nothing. Then, slowly, his hands curled into fists.
“Once, I lost someone I loved. Human rebels tore her apart for nothing more than being fae. They brutalized her in the worst ways. To them, she was a symbol—a thing to break.” His face twisted with pain. “It was a message—to remind us that magic wasn’t armor. We could bleed like anyone else.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.
“And she did. Slowly.” Silence stretched. “Any sympathy I had for Cielore’s humans died with her.”
His gaze dropped as if the weight of his words dragged him down.
“Then you showed up. Rounded ears, arrogant, snarky.” His lips curled. “I hated you on sight. You were one of them to me.”
Caius exhaled. “I still don’t like you. But you’re half fae, you shared your secrets with us, and protected Dawson and Kaia. I trust you’ll do what it takes when it matters. That’s enough for me.”
Alaire didn’t move for several long moments, processing.
“I don’t need you to like me,” she said at last, leaning back. The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “But I do need you to respect and trust me, if I’m to do the same for you.”
Her gaze searched his, looking for cracks in his expression. She found none.
“No more secrets. No more half-truths.” She crossed one leg over the other. “You get one chance to prove it. One.”
Caius nodded slowly. “Fair enough.”
She extended her hand across the table. “I’m sorry you had to endure that kind of loss, Caius. I know too well the price grief demands.”
He didn’t hesitate to take her hand. In his eyes, she saw sincerity—and the faintest flicker of hope.
Kaia refused to acknowledge him.
Right now, their priority was gathering information. Everyone had their assignments; they would regroup in a few days.
The Winged Wars would be a long, brutal game of chess, and they needed to know every player moving the pieces.
She swept her gaze around the table—unexpected allies, and those she knew would stand with her no matter the darkness ahead.
Dawson had retreated behind his mask of indifference, observing with shrewd attention, revealing nothing.
A faint smile tipped her lips. She wasn’t na?ve enough to think this would be easy—or even possible. But they were here, standing on the edge of something new. A dangerous, vicious threat loomed, and yet they’d stayed. For now, that was enough.
“We should get to class,” Kaia said, tone lacking its usual warmth as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
“Can’t have Headmaster Carth on our backs now,” Archer joked, glancing at her as though hoping for a smile.
As they rose and headed for the door, the weight of their conversation pressed heavily. Alaire inhaled deeply, her vow unshakable: she would bring down the vampires, restore her family’s legacy, and free the humans—so long as she had breath in her lungs and blood in her veins.
She wouldn’t stop.
Not until it was done.