chapter thirty-five
elysia
The Council atrium is warmer than I expected, in the physical sense.
It’s lavish and polished, too golden for what it represents.
Firelight dances off marble floors and catches in the crystal fixtures overhead.
But even in its beauty, it feels like the kind of place where every word is weighed, measured, and used as a sharpened blade.
Kaden’s hand rests lightly against my back as we take our seats at the long oak table. The others settle in around us, the soft scrape of chairs echoing through the room.
At the far end sit three High Councillors.
Evangeline Cordero sits at the centre, her pale hair twisted into a crown-like plait, eyes sharp as glass.
Beside her sit two men. One is Councillor Merin Ventura…
I think. He’s older, silver-haired and steady.
The other is someone I remember faintly from my father’s circles.
His hair darker, broad-shouldered and his gaze fixed squarely on me.
Kaelir Sevrin.
He was close with my father, and even more so with Veynar.
His stare pins me, cold and unwavering, like he can see straight through my skin and the secrets I’ve buried so deep I’ve forgotten how to breathe without them. A shiver runs up my spine, and I force myself to look away.
Evangeline clears her throat, her voice smooth and practised.
“Thank you all for coming. I trust the summons reached you promptly.”
Ronan leans back in his chair, arms flexed and folded over his chest. “Promptly and vaguely. Care to elaborate?”
Her painted lips twitch into something resembling a smile.
“Of course. The meeting today concerns the state of the borders.” A ripple of unease moves through the room as she continues, tone clipped and precise.
“The wards faltered three months ago. Since then, they’ve weakened twice more, and attacks have increased by the day.
Ossaryn are pressing hard on the northern line, and flocks of lacwyvern have breached the eastern line twice. ”
Sirena’s brows knit. “How far in?”
Merin answers this time, voice steady but strained. “Two flocks passed and reached the east quarter ruins before they were neutralised.”
Odette exchanges a glance with Enzo before speaking. “That close to the inner border?”
“Yes,” Evangeline says. “Which is why you are here.” She folds her hands neatly atop the table. “We are deploying all bonded pairs to reinforce the eastern line. Your first task will be to secure the area… there are reports that a few lacwyvern may have slipped through.”
Sirena leans forward, frowning. “Is there any more information on why the wards are failing?”
“No,” Merin says shortly.
“Then do we at least know why the attacks are increasing?” Thane presses.
Another pause. Another practised smile.
“No,” Evangeline repeats. “But The Council is investigating.”
I glance between them all, their calm faces, their dismissive answers… and something inside me burns.
“So, you’re sending us to die for something you don’t understand,” I say.
Kaden’s hand brushes against mine under the table, a silent warning.
Evangeline’s gaze flicks to me, calm and composed. “We are sending you to protect your kingdom, Miss Morningstar.”
My chest tightens. “I came here to find a cure,” I say quietly, but my voice sharpens with each word. “I bonded to serve the people, not to be turned into a weapon.”
Her expression doesn’t change. “You are a weapon, and we will wield you as such.”
The words hit like a blow to the chest, and heat simmers beneath my skin as anger builds like molten lava.
“If the inner border is breached…” Evangeline goes on, “There will be no people left to cure. You fight for Celestria, for the lives beyond the wards… including your own.”
Kaelir finally speaks, his voice rough and eyes locked entirely on me. “You will go. You will fight. Or you will die.” His eyes flick to Kaden briefly, “Both of you.”
Fire roars to life behind me and spills from my palms before I can stop it. The air cracks as tidal influence snaps outward, slamming into the marble pillars. Guards are thrown back, their bones crunching as they collide with stone.
Kaden’s shadows surge, swallowing the flames, his power pulling at mine until the fire gutters to embers.
“Breathe, love.” His voice is a soothing balm inside my head, his calm brushing against my fury, taming the storm inside me, just barely.
I cock my head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“The bond…” Kaelir states, clearing his throat. “It will tighten if too far apart. If Kaden—” he gestures toward Kaden, “enters combat and you do not, his death will be down to you and you alone. The bond will cause far too much pain for him to fight. You’ll both die.”
Silence.
I feel Kaden tense beside me. Through the bond, a flicker of his anger brushes mine… raw and protective, but he stays quiet.
Thane breaks the tension first, his tone careful. “When do we deploy?”
“Morning light, two days’ time,” Merin says.
The words settle over the table like a heavy weight, but no one argues. They’ve all fought in this war before. For most of them, battle is as familiar as breathing.
Odette nods once, grim but composed. “Then I suppose we’d better prepare.”
Evangeline stands, smoothing her robes. “You’ll be briefed on your positions tomorrow during a battle brief. Until then, rest… you’ll need it.”
Chairs scrape as everyone rises. The others file out quietly, murmuring in low voices.
But I can’t move.
The Councillors gather their scrolls, speaking softly among themselves as they depart, but Kaelir lingers, his gaze still burning holes through me before he finally turns and leaves.
Only then do I exhale.
Kaden’s hand brushes my arm, “Moonfire…”
I look up at him, his expression tight, jaw clenched so hard I swear I hear it crack.
“This is bullshit.” My hands slam down on the table as I stand, voice strained.
“I know—”
“This is what they wanted this whole time.” My thumb absently traces my ring, heat crawling up my throat. “They never cared about the cure. Not once. They just needed bodies to throw at the damn border.”
Kaden straightens, his voice low and steady. “Elysia, listen to me—”
“No.” I turn on him, magic prickling under my skin. “I came here to fix what they broke. And now they’re sending me to kill for them?”
His eyes flash, something sharp in them before it fades. He steps closer, lowering his tone. “You don’t have to kill if you can’t bring yourself to—“
“I don’t care about killing those creatures; it’s what it opens the door to that I can’t stomach.
How long before they send me to light the pyres beneath children’s feet?
How long until they force my hands to break anyone they label unworthy?
How long until I’m ordered to kill someone they decide doesn’t deserve to breathe? ”
He swallows, “I won’t let that happen. For now, you just need to be there. I’ll protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection!” I snap, the air between us trembling with raw energy.
“I know you don’t, love.” His hand reaches towards me, brushing away a stray strand of hair from my cheek. “I didn’t want this for you, but you have to understand… because of the bond, if you stay behind—”
“We die, I know,” I spit, cutting him off. “Convenient, isn’t it? Makes sure I can’t refuse.”
He hesitates, running a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders palpable. “If I could take this from you, I would.”
My breaths are still ragged as I take him in; he’s calm for the most part, but guilt seems to simmer underneath in small, almost unnoticeable waves.
His unease throughout the last few months at any mention of the border surfaces, and my mind flicks through the sparse memories of his meeting.
Images and discussions I couldn’t place or make sense of before now becoming clear.
That’s when I see it, truly see it… the weariness that’s been sitting behind his eyes for months.
“You’re not surprised,” I whisper.
He blinks. “What?”
“You knew.” My voice comes out hoarse, “This whole time you knew this was coming, didn’t you?”
“Moonfire—”
“You did!” The words scrape out of me like shards. “You didn’t warn me. You let me walk in there blind!”
His words come out quick and desperate. “You don’t understand, I was trying to protect you!”
The world tilts, and my power lashes out before I can stop it. The air between us snaps with invisible force, sending him back hard against the table, the impact rattling through the Atrium.
Kaden grunts and pushes upright, one hand braced against the wood, the other cradling his ribs.
His voice is a hoarse plea, “Elysia…”
But I’m already moving. Fury clawing up my throat, my chest too tight to breathe.
“You should’ve told me,” My voice trembles, breaking under its own weight. “You don’t get to say you’re protecting me when all you did was lie.”
And before he can speak again, before I have to see the guilt on his face, I turn and storm out of the Atrium, the doors slamming closed as I exit.
The echo of their crash follows me down the hall, but not as loud as the pulse of emotion tearing through the bond. His guilt, my fury, our shared ache burning like wildfire between us. My rapidly beating heart echoes in my ears, and all I can see is red.
I’m angry at The Council, angry at him… but mostly angry at myself, for not coming to see sooner that this was their motive all along.