Chapter Twenty-One
Skylar Cathal
The night air nipped at my skin as we rematerialized, our feet striking the earth in frantic rhythm. My heart raced with the desperate pull of the pack bond as it dragged me through the ruins of my home.
Solace. The word that once brought me joy and the warm embrace of safety was now a curse on my tongue. My former pack land was nothing, a place of only silence and ruin. But shifters were stubborn creatures; nothing would stop us from retaking our home and rebuilding.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my thoughts focused on finding Shaw and saving at least one member of my pack tonight. My magic hummed in response to my call, a surge of adrenaline urging me to race faster through the trees.
The drive to protect, as alpha, fueled my drained reserves, pushing against my shifter sleep.
It didn’t matter if I was exhausted from battling the shadows in Talon. I was going to make it to my beta and answer his call.
I didn’t know if Shaw was still alive. Gods, no.
He had to still be alive. I refused to believe any alternative.
The ruined homes of my people loomed in the distance as Daxton and I raced through the city center. Broken cabins, the school, and various shops I’d known since childhood lay in ruin. Even the tavern we ventured to on more nights than I could count was destroyed.
I slowed my pace to catch my breath as the oppressive silence thickened around me. No wind, or the sound of songbirds amongst the rustling leaves. Just the weight of everything pressing in, threatening to swallow me whole.
“Shaw!” I called out, my voice echoing in the stillness, but there was no response.
“Where could they be?” Daxton asked.
I reached out once more, detecting a flicker of energy through the pack bond in the direction of the alpha’s manor.
“The healers’ quarters,” I said as I took off at a run.
I pushed forward, feeling the pull in my chest like a guiding force. As I stepped over the threshold of the old stone foundation, I pushed open the door to the familiar healing rooms and saw Shaw on the remnants of a cot.
“Zola!” I rasped as I entered, avoiding shards of shattered glass and broken beds.
The spymaster turned to me, eyes wide with that singular fear—the kind that comes only when a mate’s life hangs in the balance. “He’s been stabbed with an iron blade!”
The world felt like it was closing in around me as I sprang into action. My limbs were shaking as I knelt beside Shaw, assessing his injuries. His side was torn open by a blade driven beneath the seam of his base layer, but at least it was a wound that I could heal.
I called upon my magic once more, letting it mend what was broken, working to bring Shaw back from the great crossing. The searing pain of exhaustion sank into my bones as his wound fused together. A steady pulsing began echoing in my ears as energy drained from my center and into my beta.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on, but I refused to give in.
Daxton stood behind me, sending magic through our mate bond. “Skylar…” His tone was low, a warning.
My reply was barely above a whisper. “Almost… there.”
As the last pieces of Shaw’s wound mended, I collapsed backward into Daxton’s arms.
“You did it!” Zola said as she moved beside Shaw once more.
I sighed in relief as I watched his breathing become easier. There would be a scar left from the blade, but thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, and the damage was repaired.
Shaw moaned as he opened his eyes, still hazy with pain but clearer than before. “Skylar…?” His voice was rough, but there was undeniable gratitude there. “Took you long enough.”
I nodded, exhaustion slowing my movements as I sat up, giving him a half-smile. Though my own strength felt as if it were slipping away with each passing second, I was relieved that his returned. “You could’ve called me sooner.”
He gave me a tired smile, though his gaze was drawn to Zola. “Hey.”
Zola scowled as she smacked the side of his head.
“Ouch!” Shaw winced. “What was that—”
In a flash, Zola reached for Shaw’s tunic and pulled his lips to hers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Shaw smiled. “Careful, or else I’m going to start thinking you care about me.”
Zola stilled, her eyes softening. “I do care.”
“Is that your secret you owe me?”
“It is.”
Shaw pulled her in for another kiss as I swayed on shaky legs, leaning on Daxton for support.
“You’ve drained too much of your magic, Skylar,” Daxton whispered.
I huffed a laugh, leaning into his strength. “I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”
“A fact I’m painfully aware of.”
Through the bond, I could feel his unease churning inside him like a winter storm. I wrapped my arms around his middle to try to ease his strain.
“Hey, are you okay?” Shaw asked, his eyes locked on me, a silent question lingering in his expression.
I opened my mouth to say something reassuring, but my body betrayed me.
The adrenaline from the fight with the shadows, from healing Talon, from saving Shaw—everything had drained out of me in an instant.
My knees buckled as my magic finally burned out, and I sank into Daxton’s hold.
My shifter sleep on the verge of pulling me under.
“Skylar,” Daxton said, cradling me in his arms, “you need to rest. Let me—”
I shook my head. “No. I need a minute,” I managed, though I sounded far more exhausted than I intended. “You think there’s anything to eat around here? We missed out on a meal in Zircon with King Taran after all.”
Daxton sighed and shook his head.
Zola arched her brow. “Diplomacy went well, I see.”
“Marvelous,” I answered.
Shaw’s expression softened. He knew me far too well. “You’ve done enough. Don’t push yourself any further.”
I could feel the pressure building in my chest, the need to do more. But as I rested against Daxton, feeling the warmth of him seep into me, the overwhelming exhaustion settled in. My body was telling me what my mind refused to accept: I needed rest.
Daxton’s hand gently tilted my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his and anchoring me with his steady grip. “Let me help, Spitfire.”
Thank the gods above for him.
“Take a breath,” he whispered sending waves of magic through our bond to steady me. “I’ve got you.”
The quiet night stretched out around us, the faint rustling of the trees in the distance, and the occasional chirp of insects filling the air. I let the silence wash over me, but my thoughts were still restless.
“Wait,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Where is Neera?”
Zola watched Shaw for a moment before her sharp gaze turned toward me. Her expression was unreadable, although complex calculations were being made behind her dark eyes.
“I’ll go get her,” Zola said, her voice carrying a finality that made me pause. “Neera’s safe. I can bring her back quickly.”
She stood, stepped back into the shadows, and jumped away.
Daxton nodded, still holding me in his arms.
“She’ll be back in no time,” Shaw said, as he watched the space Zola vacated.
“You’re sure she’s safe?” I asked Shaw. My voice shook with unease. I was too gods-damned exhausted to hide my concern.
Shaw hesitated for a long moment… too long a moment. It wasn’t like him to hesitate, not when it came to matters such as this. My heart pounded in my chest as I continued to pin him with my stare—Daxton refusing to release me from his hold.
Finally, Shaw spoke, but his words were not the reassurance I’d been expecting. “We have a story to tell you,” he said quietly. “And I don’t think you’re going to believe it.”
Before I could process what he meant, the faint shimmer in the air returned. In an instant, Zola reappeared beside us, her figure materializing out of the shadows as if she had stepped from the very night itself, with Neera in tow.
Thank the gods above.
Relief flooded through me as Neera rushed to meet me. She was warm and safe, no harm had come to her, but there was something different about her. I could sense the shift, but not the reason for it.
“Skylar,” Neera murmured, wrapping her arms around me tightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry, but—”
Before she could finish, Zola’s voice interrupted, her tone calm with a hint of something else. “I’ll be back. There’s someone else I need to bring back as well.”
Without waiting for a response, Zola disappeared again, vanishing into the shadows.
I held Neera for a moment longer, my mind still racing. She seemed stiff, like she was hiding something from me. Something big. Pieces were missing from the puzzle, and the closer I looked, the more questions began to surface.
“What is going on?” I asked. “Who did Zola leave to retrieve?”
Neera pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on my shoulders, but her gaze seeemed distant and troubled. “Sky,” she began, her voice lower than usual, “I want you to be open-minded about this. What I’m about to tell you… It’s not easy. And it’s going to sound impossible.”
A sudden tightening expanded in my chest as she spoke. “Neera, what’s going on?” I asked.
She looked at me for a long moment, her gaze flicking briefly to Shaw, then back to me, as though she was searching for the courage to say whatever happened out loud.
“He saved me, Sky. He’s my—” Neera’s words caught in her throat. She looked like she was about to say something monumental, something that would shake the foundation of everything I had believed.
Suddenly, Zola reappeared, stepping forward from the darkness, with another male in tow. I felt a chill race down my spine as I looked at him, Daxton’s magic flaring in response. His features were sharp, alluring, and his eyes were the shade of… No.
“Seamus,” Daxton growled, a dangerous edge to his voice. In a flash he released me and stood between us with Valencia in his hand. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, blade drawn, the tip of the magical steel catching the moonlight from the broken windows.
“I’m not here to harm anyone,” Seamus said in a calm voice. “In fact, I believe we have much to discuss.”
The muscles in Daxton’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing at the High Fae prince. I felt the protective drive from the bond surge through me, but there was something about Seamus Duran that made me pause.
“You will explain yourself, now,” Daxton said, his tone dark and commanding, causing the tension in the room to rise. “How are you here?”
Seamus met Daxton’s challenging stance with a calm, almost amused expression, unfazed by the threat. “There is much more at stake than you realize, Daxton. Much more than any of us could have foreseen.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes darting between Seamus and my cousin, who drifted closer to his side. “Neera?”
Neera swallowed hard, the words seizing like iron in her throat.
When she turned toward Seamus, her gaze softened, as if an unspoken truth had finally settled within her.
It was a look that said everything had fallen into place, as though the world, with all its chaos and uncertainty, had aligned in this one, undeniable moment.
“He’s my mate, Skylar.”