Chapter Twenty-Four
Daxton Aegaeon
I never felt at peace in Aelius.
The memories held in the prison cells beneath the keep and the nights I was forced to lie in Minaeve’s bed are scarred too deeply to feel anything but pure, unhinged fury.
This place should have been a second home. It was our mother’s heritage, her blood, her magic. Every spire and stone here had whispered her name once. But to me, Aelius had always felt like walking through the echo of someone else’s memory.
The city stretched beneath a storm-heavy sky, its streets slick with mist and moonlight.
Towers spiraled upward like the bones of some ancient beast, their glass windows catching the dim glow of the enchanted torchlight.
Somewhere in the distance, bells tolled the hour, the sound hollow and mournful, a symphony for ghosts that had never stopped singing.
When we entered through the gates, the palace wards brushed across my skin like the cool touch of a half-forgotten relative, familiar and foreign all at once.
Castor gave a low whistle beside me. “Still can’t decide if this place wants to welcome us or bury us alive.”
“It’s Aelius,” I said. “It does both.”
He shot me a look, half amused, half uneasy. Nyssa quietly studied the gates ahead, her midnight eyes reflecting the glint of the enchanted sconces. Even she seemed subdued here, her movements quieter, her usual grace weighted by the hush of the palace.
We passed through the great doors onto the landing, a cathedral of decorative marble and light. Veins of magic seemed to pulse faintly through the walls, tracing the runes of an empire that had once ruled the Inner Kingdom while the false queen wore the crown.
Up ahead, Rhett was already waiting at the base of the steps.
The High Fae looked immaculate, the embodiment of Aelius itself. His deep-set blue eyes were cunning—ever calculating and set under a mesh of midnight-black hair that fell over his brow, with a crescent moon birthmark peeking up along the collar of his tailored shirt.
The male carried more secrets than I cared to know, and I was grateful for his allegiance. Because of his bravery, we were all freed from Minaeve’s grasp. And still the male did not desire Seamus’s throne, insisting on only being a steward until his High Prince returned.
“My high king,” he said in greeting. “Welcome.”
I dipped my head in return. “Thank you, Rhett. I trust the high queen hasn’t caused you too much trouble since I’ve been gone.”
“She is a sparkling addition wherever she goes.”
I huffed a laugh under my breath. “Excellent.”
“Also, welcome, High Prince Castor, and—”
“High Princess Nyssa,” my brother cut in, formally introducing Nyssa as his wife for the first time.
A beam of pride stirred in my chest, bright despite the horror of this place.
Rhett inclined his head to Castor and Nyssa, his expression even, although his eyes sparked with keen interest. The male’s gifts suited him; he always loved learning new things.
“Congratulations are in order, then,” Rhett said, tilting his head to look them over. “A blessing bond sealed under war is rare. The gods must favor you both.”
“Or test us,” Castor said dryly.
Rhett’s mouth twitched, the closest thing to a true smile I’d ever seen the male allow. “Sometimes, those are the same thing.” His gaze fell back to me. “You returned sooner than I expected.”
“Not soon enough,” I said, anxious about leaving Skylar here alone. “Where are they?”
His expression sobered. “Below. The phoenix keeps watch.”
“Take us down.”
Rhett turned, and the hem of his forest-green coat, etched with silver, whispered across the marble as he led us toward the descending stairs.
The gleam of torches dimmed into a dull orange glow. The walls closed in, with a scent of wet stone and dew. The palace above was luxurious, ideal for formal ceremonies, bleeding elegance and grace. Down here, however, dwelled magic from beyond, with creatures that still haunted Skylar’s dreams.
I glanced sideways, noticing how Nyssa’s hand brushed against Castor’s as they walked behind me. Their quiet connection was a treasure to behold as it grew. I was thankful for her peaceful grace that calmed my brother’s unpredictable nature.
The entrance to the Labyrinth was exactly as I remembered.
The dark cobblestone stairwell leading to the abyss beneath the keep held the same dark magic as it had before the first trial.
I remembered walking down these steps behind Skylar as she entered the trial of the mind.
She was bold, fearless, the makings of the champion alpha queen she was today.
The smell of death and decay lay thick in the air, along with something dark and sinister that tugged at my magical senses. Something still dwelled beneath the Aelius palace that caused goosebumps to appear along my flesh.
The Labyrinth was far from dormant.
The stairway emptied into a corridor lined with torchlight to guide the way. The world was hushed down here, except for the rhythmic dripping of water and, beneath it, the low pulse of monsters trapped with their keeper lying in wait.
When we turned the last corner, the temperature changed. Warmth brushed against my skin, impossible to mistake or ignore.
Skylar stood before the swirling black mist that concealed the entrance to the Labyrinth, flames curling around her like a living cloak. Her golden-brown hair caught the glow of torchlight, and her eyes, bright like living embers, flicked toward me as we came into view.
The faintest hint of a smile ghosted across her lips before she said, “You sure took your sweet time returning.”
“Aw, did you miss me, Spitfire?”
I reached for her. The tension in me loosened at her proximity.
“How’s it going?”
“As good as it can,” she answered.
“And how did Magnus take the news?”
“That is not my story to tell. I’m leaving that topic of discussion to Neera.”
That would be a sight to see, I thought to myself, wrapping my arms around my mate as the warmth of her touch seeped into me, filling our bond with serene comfort.
“What is he doing here?” Castor’s voice rang out like a bell.
Skylar sighed and called her flames, illuminating the space.
Behind Skylar, tucked in a corner near the entrance to the Labyrinth, Seamus sat shackled against the stone wall.
His posture was relaxed, with his light-colored hair falling into his eyes.
Even in chains, he looked too composed, too calm.
The glowing shade of emerald still brightened his eyes, marking him as the rightful ruler of Aelius with a kiss of ancient magic.
However, now there was no arrogance in his gaze, only exhaustion.
Even after five hundred years of his cruelty, I still saw the warrior I had once called friend.
“It’s time to talk, Seamus,” I said.
Skylar’s fire dimmed to a steady ember beside me. Eyes darted between us. She could feel my emotions, the tangled history humming under my words through the bond.
“You came,” Seamus said quietly. His deep voice carried the weight of centuries, but was lined with something brittle underneath. “I wasn’t sure you’d listen.”
I stepped closer, folding my arms. “If Skylar says it’s worth my time, I’ll listen. But that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“I didn’t expect the audience,” he said quietly. “Thankfully, the Labyrinth can mask my presence, or else I suspect Minaeve would have already retrieved me herself.”
“Why is he not dead?” Castor muttered.
“Why indeed,” Seamus said dryly. Lifting his head, his eyes, still that same piercing green I remembered from my youth, met mine without flinching. “Minaeve didn’t just turn me, Daxton. She remade me. You know what my power is—how easily I can invade a mind and bend a will.”
“I remember,” I said, voice sharp. “You once used it to disarm enemies, discover the truth, and rule with a fair yet firm hand. Even to end battles before blood was ever spilled.”
Seamus’s jaw tightened. “And she used it to end our world.” He released a slow, trembling breath.
“I was under her control for centuries, and I didn’t even remember why or how.
Every time I began to wake up and evade her, she dragged me back under with another oath, another command.
I stopped counting the lives I ruined in her name.
I stopped trying to be anything but the monster she made me. ”
Something twisted in my chest: anger, grief, perhaps pity. I couldn’t decipher which.
“And now?” I asked. “Now that the leash is off, you expect me to grant you forgiveness freely?”
He looked at me steadily. “No. I want to earn it.”
Neera appeared from the shadows, a tenderness shining in her eyes as she knelt beside Seamus, fingers brushing his.
“When I first saw her,” Seamus said quietly, attention turning to the shifter at his side, “everything stopped. The noise. The commands. The voices she left in my head. My bond to Neera… It burned through it all. I felt a sense of peace for the first time in five hundred years. And when Anjani raised the blade to kill her, I—”
“The mate bond severed the blood oath.” Rhett’s expression softened, his voice almost reverent.
Seamus nodded. “Neera saved me from her control. But I know Minaeve. She knows I broke free. I fear she’ll come for Neera next. That’s why I’m here. I’m not asking for a pardon, Daxton. I’m offering to be utilized as a weapon to finally end her.”
I studied him, this male I’d once trusted with my life, now shackled in the dark because of what he’d become.
“I watched you slaughter our kind,” I said, each word a physical blow to his heart. “You looked me in the eye more times than I can count to crush my mind beneath your will. You nearly broke Skylar’s mind in Crimson City!”
His eyes closed briefly. “I remember every scream.”
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Skylar’s fire crackled in the corner. The faint hiss of her magic reached out to calm me before my temper could boil over.