Chapter 69
We left Iaoth deep in the royal suite, bound in bronze and gagged. It was too risky to throw her into the prison cells where sympathizers could free her. Better to let the sentinels think she’d retired for the evening.
The night was young; we still had much to accomplish before the nobles and guards awoke from their valerian-laced slumber.
At least with Iaoth bound, there was no risk of her using that stone on the Seers and stealing all their magic, forcing them to burn out like Heraphia had.
The four of us wound our way to the central circle of the palace, where the massive tree carved with symbols of our realm waited, ringed by the ballroom and the throne room. We encountered no one as we passed through the primary atrium and into the opposite wing.
The ease of our passage didn’t allay the males’ nerves. Both scanned each direction as if death waited around the next corner.
“I don’t have enough Command in my well for both the Sightkeepers and the nobles,” Vaeron whispered to Maelsar. “Think you can handle a bloody fight?”
“Wouldn’t be a coup without one,” he shot back, though the tease was absent from his tone.
Death and violence were a necessary part of our plan. I didn’t want to end any more lives. But the Seers would perish if we didn’t battle off any in our way.
The trickling of water reached my ears, and my breath hitched. Flashes of those damn crystal chairs struck my mind like bolts of lightning, each memory of the suffering I’d endured behind those walls a knife to my heart.
Never again.
Rolling my shoulders back, I prepared to face that room one last fucking time. Once the dust had settled, I’d smash the marble with a hammer myself, leaving only rubble in the wake of my fury.
The Sightkeepers startled when we emerged from the dark hall. A dozen lined the walls, lifting their weapons and pointing the tips toward us.
“Stop right where you are. You aren’t supposed to be here,” a male beside the door growled, stomping forward. I recognized him from my time here, for how cruelly and thoroughly he’d obeyed Iaoth and Stadiel when they’d forced the Seers to couple as a twisted offering to the Goddess.
Vaeron and Maelsar merely let their swords scrape free. “Step aside and pledge loyalty to your new Koron. If you do, I’ll spare your life,” Vaeron ordered.
“I’ll never bow to you, Issaraeth,” he snapped, a sharp whine piercing my ears.
With a cry, I covered them, but it did nothing to dull the sound. A boom shook the ground beneath my feet, and I pitched forward, slamming into Lyriasthe. We went down in a tangle of limbs as Sightkeepers clashed with the males we loved so fiercely.
“You can’t let them through!” the captain shouted. “The stone isn’t finished filling yet.”
Ice encased me.
No no no no no no no no no
That was why Iaoth didn’t slink to our rooms after Stadiel’s departure, like Vaeron had thought.
She was here, sucking the life out of those cursed with a power she coveted.
And then she fucking left them to return to her chambers.
The stone would feed until each person was dry, and she didn’t care enough to even witness their deaths.
I shoved to my feet, fighting through the agony in my bones.
Lyriasthe was beside me, white unfurling from her. “We run for it!”
“Now!” I replied, linking arms with her and dragging her forward. Around us, a battle raged, dust and blood coating marble. We ducked a blast of white, then spun around to a Sightkeeper backing Maelsar into the wall.
Somehow we managed to get to the door of the Divine Atrium. But the psionic blast that had shaken the ground had also wedged the door shut. “Fuck!” I cursed, slamming my shoulder into the wood. But it didn’t budge.
Lyriasthe backed up a few paces, then launched herself forward. Nothing. She rubbed her arm, glaring at the offending object. “Together.”
“Together,” I confirmed. Sucking in a breath, I steadied myself for the shock of pain.
We raced forward at the same time light burst behind us. Everything collided at once, and we spilled into the dark room. Something sharp dug into my arm. With a grunt, I pulled out a splintered piece of wood.
But my injuries were minimal and would heal. Burnout was irreversible.
Clashes and cries raged behind us, and Lyriasthe and I delved deeper into the atrium. We skidded to a stop at the head of the rows of crystal chairs.
And there, in the center of them all, was that clear as ice stone. As in my vision, white flowed from the center of each Seer’s chest into the rock. The hairs on my arms rose, an electric energy buzzing in the air.
“What do we do?” Lyriasthe asked, a mix of awe and trepidation in her tone.
“We have to break it,” I replied, wracking my brain for how.
Somehow I knew that if we touched it, we’d be tethered too.
I didn’t know how full it was—or what Ioath had planned on doing with it once it finished feeding.
The thought of that much power in Iaoth and Stadiel’s hands sent a chill straight to my core.
Absently, I touched the cracked moonstone under my shirt—Vaeron’s mother’s necklace. The gem of the Goddess. Of light, of feminine energy, of return and rebirth.
I shot forward, wrenching it off my neck.
Lyriasthe was hot on my heels. “Sylaira, don’t touch it!”
“Help me!” I yelled back, skidding to a stop at the base of the pedestal. I flipped the pendant around, pinching the metal case, fingers far enough from the edge that I hoped they wouldn’t brush the stone.
The motto of House R?viel stared back at me, etched into the silver. Vaeron had kept the necklace all these centuries after his mother’s death, an object so precious to him that he hadn’t told a soul he possessed it. Until he gave it to me as a gift after I lost his ring.
I offered him a silent apology, because I knew using it would lead to its final destruction. And yet, through the void between worlds, I sensed her watching me, pleased with her son and his mate.
“If I accidentally get tethered, I need you to take over.”
Lyriasthe’s sky-blue eyes met mine. “I won’t let that happen. Give it to me. We can’t risk you.”
“I’m not letting you risk yourself either,” I argued.
A Seer behind me let out a gasp. Her body convulsed, and she slid down her crystal chair to the floor. Her skull cracked against the unforgiving stone before she went limp, unblinking. Unmoving.
A maelstrom of rage roared inside me. I would not let more of them die. Not here. Not like this. Energy crackled in my veins, my body the vessel for the tempest that had been brewing since the day I was captured.
I sucked down air like it was my last breath.
Then slammed the moonstone against the rock.
Let it break. Let it shatter the hold. Let it return their magic.
And so the storm screamed.
Incandescence exploded around us, flashes of blue and purple forking through the white. Seers slammed back into their crystal chairs from the force of the impact. My hair whipped around me, stinging my skin with its lashes. My hand shook from the effort needed to hold the moonstone in place.
Lyriasthe’s arms wrapped around me like she was trying to anchor me.
And the storm kept screaming.
Gone was any sense of time or space or who I was. Instead, I was everything and nothing. Floating everywhere and drifting nowhere. Time fractured. The world cracked wide.
And I Saw.
A table replaced the atrium. Two Demons sat across from Lyriasthe and me. I’d Seen these females time and time again, their burgundy irises seared into my memory like the moment my mate bond had snapped into place.
Kiira and Assyria.
Our allies. Our friends.
I didn’t know them yet—but I would.
Everyone around me laughed, and I found myself grinning too, though I wasn’t sure why. We were in no room I’d ever been in, a place wholly unfamiliar and completely out of focus. But Angels didn’t sit with Demons, sharing a meal like there wasn’t a war raging between our two races.
“Peace is possible,” Assyria said, elbowing Kiira in the ribs.
The High Priestess knocked her shoulder. “I never said it wasn’t.”
“We can’t let the males take all the credit though,” Assyria said. “Their egos are far too large already. We all know it was us females who made it happen.”
I grinned at her, heart filling with warmth.
“Agreed,” Lyriasthe added. “Just like Sylaira and Vaeron can’t say they got back together on their own.”
“Hey!” I protested.
We all laughed together again. The space shrunk, darkness edging in. A tear clawed down my cheek because the retreating moment was so beautiful, so pure, so peaceful. I wasn’t certain if the Goddess had shown me this to taunt me or to promise me that we were on the right path.
Rock shattered, shards spearing in all directions. I gasped as one sliced across my temple. Hot blood ran down my face, blinding me. I stumbled backward, only to be caught by my friend.
“You did it,” she choked out.
I swiped my sleeve, clearing my vision. The crystal was obliterated, and no white bands flowed between it and the Seers. In fact, many were groaning and rubbing the centers of their chests. My attention snapped to the female who had collapsed before I placed the moonstone.
She didn’t move.
“I did it,” I sobbed, hot salt tracking down my cheeks, a tumbling mix of joy and grief. Because there was one Seer who didn’t make it.
Lyriasthe hugged me tighter, and I gripped her arm, still unable to believe that I’d managed to save most of them. I opened my palm, the moonstone tripping over itself until it landed face up, the white stone cracked further—but still mostly intact.
Relief swept through me. Like Vaeron and I, it had survived so much. And I was so grateful that I could put it back around my neck.
My heart thrummed against the stone, the melody of it slowing as the adrenaline of the moment passed.
As the Seers came out of their dazes, many wept. Still more managed to drag themselves forward, gratitude shining in their eyes.
“Thank you, Sylaira,” Mirael, a female who had made the Elessarum gesture at Heraphia’s funeral said, falling to her knees in front of me.
Seeing her eyes, so clear, healed something inside me.
They’d likely heard my new title—Seraelth—and yet she chose not to call me that when she had every reason to.
That single choice nearly unraveled me.
Lyriasthe released me and faced the gathering Seers. “Bow before your new Korona.”
A collective gasp rippled through them. More cries of relief echoed in the space.
“Is it true?”
“What happened to Iaoth?”
“What about the Issaraeth?”
I held up a hand to silence them, emotion clogging my throat. “I will answer your questions in due time. But for now, we have to get you out of here.”
“What about the war?” someone else questioned, her brow furrowing. “This is how we help ensure we win. I don’t want to be killed by Demons.”
I lifted my chin, snatching for strength. “I am the Seraelth. The Goddess speaks through me. And I know exactly what happens next.”
I sensed Vaeron’s approach behind me—and his pride.
I turned to face him, finding him caked in dust, clothes torn, and with a cut on his forearm, but alive. The stormy purple and icy blue of his irises drank me in like he was dying of thirst.
“Little fugitive. You are radiant, standing here in your victory. I am not worthy of beholding the storm inside you. Yet I am honored you let me glimpse it all the same.”
He closed the distance between us, and together we stood as one before our people for the first time.
“The Issaraeth and I will rule over a new, better age for the Angels. We will end this war. No one will live in fear, and you will not be forced to use your power against your will.”
Several Seers sobbed. Others drew back like they weren’t certain we’d keep that promise. Only a handful seemed infuriated by the change in power.
“What if we don’t want to go?” the same female protested.
“Then stay and use your Sight,” Vaeron offered, his hand finding the small of my back, the small touch lending me strength and offering me solidarity. “But we will not make you. If you want to leave, the time is now. We will ensure your safety before the final challenge to our new reign begins.”
“Those of you who wish to leave, follow me to your quarters. You can gather your belongings and we’ll take you to a safe haven in Sivy in the morning,” Lyriasthe promised.
“Thank you,” I whispered to her.
“With me!” Lyriasthe shouted, gesturing for the Seers. Most of them trailed behind her out of the wreckage and around the waterfall. Which left Vaeron, Maelsar, and me with those who refused to leave.
“I do have to apologize for one thing,” Vaeron said to the six Seers.
“What’s that?” the female questioned.
“Until the transfer of power is complete, you’ll have to be restrained.”
The Command burst from him before they could react.
“FREEZE.”
Maelsar strode forward, cuffing them all.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I protested, glaring at my mate.
“I will not risk them sending a message to Stadiel or informing anyone else of the coup before we have secured the nobles,” Vaeron replied, reaching down and cupping my cheek.
His thumb swiped through the blood still seeping from the cut on my temple.
“You are so brave, so strong, so fierce, mate. I knew you could free them, just like I knew you’d make a formidable Korona. ”
He paused, his throat working as he wrestled with his next words. “But if you want to leave with them, I’ll understand. I won’t stop you.”
Hot salt burned my eyes as I looked up at the male I’d hated for hunting me. Hated for being my mate before I’d even met him.
And now?
I couldn’t wait to rule beside him. “I don’t want to. I want to be here with you. Where I belong.”
For the first time, Vaeron’s eyes shone. A choked sound caught in his throat. “Little fugitive,” he rasped, one tear breaking free. “I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”
“Then I’ll need to say them every day so you never forget I am choosing to be by your side now. We are partners in this and all things.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple, his lips trembling. “We need to be in the throne room before the nobles wake. Let’s hope drugging their wine won’t sour them on supporting us.”
“If it does, you can always Command them,” I pointed out.
My mate huffed a laugh. “And here I thought you didn’t want people forced into things they don’t want.”
I smiled up at him. “It seems with you, I’m always willing to make an exception. But I have to make one stop first.”