Chapter Forty-Seven
Castor Aegaeon
I gave Shaw a firm nod before glancing over his shoulder toward a figure charging through the trees. My chest sagged with relief, and I felt like I could finally take a breath.
Nyssa ran to me, skirt torn, hair matted with sweat and ash. Her hands were already reaching out to me before her feet stopped moving, shaking as she searched every part of me, looking for injuries.
“You’re alright?” she signed, eyes wide.
Gods, the fear I could sense through our bond was overwhelming.
“I’m alright,” I said, cupping her cheek.
She narrowed her eyes. “Liar,” she signed.
Her palms pressed to my cheeks, eyes scanning my face, my chest, my hands, every inch of me. Fear, relief, love. Every emotion radiated from her, as if it were my own, so fierce it nearly dropped me to my knees.
She leaned into me, and for a precious second, I was solely hers once more. Then, she slipped a small vial of red liquid into my hands.
I sighed heavily. “Thank you, Nyssa. But there are others who—”
She shook her head. “Take it. Please. For me?”
Unable to deny her plea, I bit the cork open and drank. Heat flooded through my center, my magic flaring to life inside my chest, flowing through my limbs. I inhaled a deep breath, welcoming the feeling of my strength returning.
I hadn’t realized I’d used so much of my magic.
“Hey,” I whispered, pulling her closer. “It’s alright.”
Her lips parted in a silent exhale, shaking with all the words she couldn’t speak.
I bent to kiss her, and gods above, I needed this—needed to feel her and remind myself there was something good. Something worth fighting for. She kissed me back, fingers curling in my hair. The desperate press of lips said everything her voice could not.
But curse the gods, they never gave us enough time.
Shaw’s voice cut through the trees, harsh and urgent. “Castor! The shifters can’t hold the front line. Magnus is recalling our main forces to the cover of the trees. We’re losing too many. If we don’t reinforce them now—”
“We die,” I said, pulling back from my mate and stealing one more second of hope with the taste of her on my lips.
Daxton and Skylar were gone. Despite the other humans now fighting with us, our numbers were thinning. Our magic was waning. And the enemy was fucking growing.
I looked around our circle. I noted Zola’s tense posture, Shaw’s clenched jaw, the shifters limping and bleeding as they staggered between human and animal forms. The High Fae drained of energy, the humans patching armor with trembling hands.
The entire camp stilled as I glanced around, and I realized… they were all looking at me.
I wasn’t the high king or war general. But here, on the edge of our destruction, they needed me to be something.
“Listen!” I shouted, stepping forward. “Dax and Sky will return. I believe it, and you must too. We keep fighting until they do. We do not break. We do not give up. Valdor is our home, and we will not lose it!”
The chatter of soldiers rallying to my words filled the space. High Fae warriors stood tall, shifters gathered their magic, and the humans—much to my surprise—swallowed their fear.
I didn’t dare show my true emotions. Our people couldn’t see my trembling hands or hear the shudders in my voice. If I revealed these doubts to them, we would crumble faster than a tower of glass.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed Nyssa’s touch. I tilted my head and noticed that her eyes were wet. Through the bond, her emotions were a whirlwind of fear and sorrow. But at its core, the strongest one I could sense was hope.
Releasing my arm, she stepped past me.
“Nyssa?”
She walked into the clearing, where the trees ended and death began at the outskirts of the battlefield. The chaos spread out before her… broken bodies, smoke, and creatures of shadow creeping closer.
My heart thundered in my ears like a brooding storm cloud. “Nyssa, come back!” I roared.
But she didn’t. She turned, faced the enemy, lifted her chin, took in a deep breath… and sang.
There were no words to her song. Instead, it was a powerful melody that wrapped around my soul like a warm embrace. A sound too beautiful for a battlefield. A sound that shouldn’t have survived in a place like this.
And gods, I felt her magic.
Through her song, emotions poured into me. Courage burned hot in my chest, hope shimmered like lantern light on water, floating along the current of blood in my veins. Love, such pure love, took root through the soles of my feet, connecting me to the land we were striving to save.
It filled every crack inside me. Erasing every doubt, every fear.
Warriors lifted their heads as if waking from a long sleep.
Shifters inhaled sharply, their fur bristling with new fire.
High Fae straightened, magic sparking over their fingers.
Humans pressed fists to their hearts, courage burning bright in their once dulled eyes.
My throat tightened so hard it hurt. She was singing once again, and it was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
I moved to her side, lacing my fingers with hers. Her song vibrated through my bones, and into my every heartbeat.
“Nyssa,” My voice cracked. “My love… you’re inspiring hope in us all.”
She turned her face toward me, and gods, the determination in her eyes sparked a fire in my soul. She inhaled deeply, her last note spilling into the skies above, with one final bout of strength. And when it faded, silence hung for a single breath.
Then… like rolling thunder, a roar rose from our ranks on all sides.
“For Valdor!”
“For Valdor!”
“For Valdor!”
Shaw shifted mid-yell, and Zola vanished into the shadows with a warrior’s smile. Gunnar donned his shield and axe, ready to spill blood, while humans lifted their blades with renewed strength.
Nyssa squeezed my hand, giving me a firm nod. Go.
I released her and lifted my twin swords. Ice exploded down the blades in brilliant blue veins.
“For Valdor!” I shouted. “Charge!”
Nyssa’s final note still hummed in my soul long after we broke through the tree line and headed back into the fray.
It was like carrying a piece of her heart inside my chest. Every breath I took tasted like her courage.
Every heartbeat pounded with her strength.
Every swing of my sword echoed with the remnants of her voice.
I sidestepped a cloaked fallen’s attack, ice gathering instinctively along my blade as I slashed through its shadowed torso.
The beast howled in pain, but the scream was short-lived as Gunnar appeared at my side and severed its head clean from its shoulders.
Its body disappearing into nothing but smoke and ash.
Another human soldier charged us, eyes wild with desperation. My blade met his, sparks flying.
Focus, Castor. Don’t lose yourself.
I disarmed the soldier’s blade with a twist of my wrist, ice crawling up his fingers and onto his arm. He cried out as my frost bit deep, and I sliced the tip of my sword through his throat. He dropped to the earth, blood joining that of his kin.
“Cas!” Gunnar’s voice roared somewhere to my right. “Come on. Keep up!”
“Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun.”
A familiar horn bellowed across the valley, and along the river that flowed through the White Fang Mountain itself was a white ship cast amongst the shadows.
Fjorda.
I smiled to myself, knowing that the water nymphs were waiting beneath the surface to call them into a watery grave. Fjorda wasn’t fighting alone.
“Castor!” Zola’s voice called me to attention. “On your left!”
I spun, caught the blade aimed at my center, and shoved the attacker back with a surge of frost that exploded into the air like a winter storm.
I exhaled a long, steadying breath as I drew on my premonition magic, staying one step ahead of the enemy.
“Where the fuck are you, Daxton!” I cursed, lifting my swords and plunging back into the storm.
And then, as if the gods themselves were listening, a familiar lick of heat skimmed across my back.