Chapter Sixty-Nine
Castor Aegaeon
A battlefield was a deadly dance of violence intertwined with chaos. Complete and utter madness. Which was exactly what Daxton unknowingly teleported us into the thick of.
The clang of steel and roars of battle filled my ears as we reappeared at the edge of our encampment. Floods of crimson stained the field. The cries of the wounded reverberated into the final hours of the darkened night.
The battle had begun. And clutched to my brother’s chest was the first sacrifice of our hopeful future.
“Watch out!” Shaw yelled as he drew the alpha’s dagger and lunged forward to block a sword wielded by a High Fae dressed in dark green armor.
With centuries of combat training ingrained into muscle memory, I instinctively reached for the blade strapped to my back. In one swift movement, I removed the head of our enemy from his shoulders.
“Don’t hesitate,” I told Shaw. “You do, and that pretty outfit Idris gave you won’t be enough to stop a blade aimed at your neck.” I reached for my other sword.
“You’re welcome,” Shaw huffed.
Blood marked the ground beneath my feet as Shaw and I formed a protective barrier around my brother and Skylar. Examining our surroundings, I inspected our position amongst the mass of warriors engaged in a bloody battle on all sides.
A familiar tug pulled at my center, drawing my attention toward an array of boulders near an overlook—Nyssa. I met her darkened stare from across the way as she motioned for us to climb to her.
“Shaw, Dax, this way,” I commanded, drawing my second sword and preparing to fight through bloodied carnage to reach her.
Seeing Nyssa gave me an idea, and I prayed to the Gods that it would be enough.
We needed Daxton to regain his senses—needed him in this fight.
However, I was terrified that the loss of Skylar would prove too steep a mountain for even him to climb.
To lead this fight, Daxton would need to don his mask of indifference yet again and embody the terrifying Silver Shadow of legend.
Ducking under an enemy’s blade, I countered, slicing through their armor and rendering them lifeless at my feet.
A flash of a premonition flickered across my subconscious, and I turned just in time to deflect a knife thrown at my back.
I glared at the Aelius warrior across the way with venom spewing in my gaze.
He did not want to fuck with me right now. His mistake.
I envisioned the knife he’d thrown buried in his chest, and suddenly, it was no longer an idea. The warrior clutched his chest as blood spewed from a gaping wound, a blade not made of steel but ice—a weapon conjured with ice magic.
I stilled, dumbfounded by this new ability. Daxton was the only one able to conjure ice like this. I was only able to manipulate it. What was happening?
“Castor!” Shaw screamed as he charged ahead, barreling through two warriors at our front.
The shifter proved his skill in battle, disarming the High Fae warriors in two quick movements before running his dagger through them.
He was relentless in his endeavor to reach the safety of the outcrop, with Daxton close at his back.
My brother glanced over his shoulder with Skylar cradled in his arms, following my line of sight to the ice dagger embedded in the dead Aelius warrior’s heart. His eyes widened with surprise as his grip around Skylar’s lifeless body remained firm.
“Let’s go,” I said, motioning us forward.
Off to the side, magical flames skittered across the way, signaling the heir of Crimson City joining us. As we bounded up the slope, Gunnar’s war cry echoed across the battlefield, and my heart leaped, knowing he was still alive and leading this fight.
They didn’t need to know the tragedy of our long-sought salvation just yet, believing Skylar was only unconscious in Daxton’s arms.
As I crested the final boulder, Nyssa leaped into my chest, her grip around my neck tightening as she settled into my embrace. Without hesitating, I dropped my blades and clutched onto her.
It was then that I sensed it.
The bond between us weaved together and settled into place, flooding me with a sense of clarity and euphoric bliss that I never thought possible.
Pulling back, I cupped Nyssa’s delicate face between my hands, desperately seeking the understanding and recognition I had been dreaming of seeing for months. Amongst the utter madness encompassing us and the grief that my brother was suffering, I selfishly needed this. Needed her.
Nyssa clutched onto my arms and smiled at me, nodding her head as a stray tear stained her cheek. I bent and kissed it away, pressing my brow to hers.
“I swear to the Mother and Father above,” I whispered against her ear, “everything I am or ever will be belongs to you. I am yours, Nyssa.”
Nyssa released her hold on my arm and moved to tap my chest, once, twice, and then a third time.
I am yours. She didn’t need to speak the words for me to understand.
Desperately, I pulled her lips to mine, sealing my promise with a kiss. Nyssa was my mate, my soul bond in this life and the next.
The familiar brush of shadows pulled our attention as Zola appeared in our outcrop. Our blissful moment turned to ash.
“Why are you not fighting with Crimson City and Silver Meadows warriors? Why the fuck is—” Zola’s words fell silent as her eyes locked on Skylar’s lifeless body clutched against Daxton’s chest.
Nyssa went still at my side, with her hand springing to cover her mouth as she, too, realized the state of Skylar’s condition.
“No… No, no.” Zola gasped, turning toward Shaw, searching for the truth she didn’t wish to see.
Shaw bent his head and pivoted away, every muscle in his massive frame flexing as he tried to control the grief inside an iron cage. “She… She sacrificed herself to the Heart. To eradicate the wilt.”
“Well,” Zola said in a hushed tone, trembling with the emotions we were all feeling, “she succeeded. Look.”
I hadn’t had time to notice, but even through the final hours of the night, I could see it.
The wilt was gone.
“The fallen are also—”
Daxton’s head spun, his voice cold and distant as he addressed our spymaster. “What about the fallen? What is your report?”
“Some have transitioned into their previous forms.”
“What?” Nyssa signed, stepping in front of Zola.
“High Fae, mostly. Some water nymphs, a handful of dryads… But not all chose to be saved. Some remain in their damned state.”
The coloring on Nyssa’s face dropped as she clutched her chest, shaking her head in disbelief. I felt a whirlwind of confusion spiraling through her as I reached out to try to lend her my support.
“When did Minaeve arrive?” Daxton asked, his eyes darkening as a wild flush of his magic caused my stomach to flip. “When?” he repeated.
“Moments after the wilt disappeared,” Zola answered, tilting her head. “Daxton, your eyes…”
The High Prince of Silver Meadows, not my brother, stared her down.
Zola stepped back. “How did they turn silver?”
How did I suddenly develop the ability to wield ice magic? Just a few unknowns to scatter into this wonderful setting.
Daxton ignored Zola’s question and turned his attention to my mate tucked at my side. “Nyssa.” Daxton’s ominous voice was laced with the promise of violence and death. “Watch over Skylar’s body.”
A body—that was all she was now. A lifeless shell of the bright and beaming essence she once was.
I swallowed heavily as Nyssa stepped forward, cradling Skylar’s head in her lap as she knelt to hold her. Daxton stilled, his hand caressing Skylar’s cheek one final time before he stood and turned his attention to the battlefield.
Silver Shadow’s menacing gaze locked into the heart of the clearing, his wrath and rage fueling his battle-hardened stare. He summoned Valencia, the silver blade shimmering with a life of its own, fueled by Daxton’s fury.
“I have a promise to keep,” Daxton said on an exhale of breath as he vanished.
I was stunned at the effortless speed of Daxton’s departure. Like me, his magic and abilities were amplified.
“Arm yourself with this,” Shaw said, handing Zola the shifter’s dagger. “I can’t fight or carry it while I’m in my panther form.”
“I’ll fight beside you,” Zola answered. “That way, it won’t leave your sight.” A silent understanding passed between them.
“I’ll find Daxton and make sure he doesn’t try anything foolish,” I said, ready to charge into battle, refusing to voice my deepest fears about his self-preservation.
“Go,” Nyssa signed with a firm nod. “Fight for tomorrow. Fight for the coming dawn and all those still to come.”
Shaw and Zola jumped away with her shadow magic, leaving Nyssa and me alone in the outcrop. I paused at Nyssa’s final words, thankful I held something precious to fight for and a reason to come out of this alive.