Chapter 23
Kieran
I ducked down low and watched the soldiers pour in.
The white uniforms were stark against the dim landscape.
The base was makeshift, built of portacoms and tents next to an old airbase and close enough to the Moorshire compound to be an issue.
I could see the mountain range from where we stood. It wouldn’t take them long to get there should they choose to attack again.
They were missing helicopters. I could see several men working in a hangar, trying to rebuild one from the ruins.
Trying to reclaim the choppers we already took down.
The attack on the lower base the other day proved the Council knew we were in the vicinity.
I was hoping they didn’t know just how deep Equinox ran through the rocks and mountains.
Ash crouched beside me, glowering. Every time I glanced his way, he snarled under his breath.
I knew it wasn’t fair. I knew he wanted Seph.
So did I.
In ways I could barely explain to myself, let alone Elliot.
But I had made a choice.
Even if that choice felt more brittle and painful each day.
My pocket buzzed slightly. I pulled out my phone.
PHANTOM: D has S – enroute now.
K: you sure?
PHANTOM: sure. Come back.
Relief hit hard and fast, but I forced my face to stay neutral.
I let out a slow breath.
Thank God.
But we still couldn’t leave yet.
I checked Ash.
If I told him, he would leave. I could tell from the tightness in his jaw.
“Who was that?”
“Phantom checking in. She wants to know where we are.”
Ash was surveying the base in that quiet, predatory way of his.
His senses were hyper tuned to Seph. He was tight as a wire.
“How many do you think are here?” I asked Ash.
His eyes took on that strange glow as they consulted the winds that chased his hair. A slight breeze flickered over the base.
When the wind returned, Ash turned to me.
“A few hundred men. Lots of climbing gear in the sheds,” he looked at me.
“Seph isn’t here, K.”
I hid my flinch. “Someone might know where she is. We need to get closer.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Blow over some tents. A distraction. I want to check out the officer barracks.”
Ash rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
I felt his power gather — not explosive, not reckless, but dense. Like pressure building beneath the skin of the world.
The wind stirred.
At first it was nothing more than a restless breeze, tugging at loose fabric, lifting dust from the ground. A tarp snapped free from its ties and went skidding across the yard. Then another tore loose, flapping wildly before vanishing into the dark.
The air thickened.
The wind rose in pitch and force, gusts howling now, tearing through the base with growing aggression. Tents buckled. Equipment clattered. Soldiers staggered, boots sliding on gravel as they fought to stay upright.
Someone shouted. Another voice joined it. Panic bled into the noise.
“Now’s your chance,” Ash said sharply. “Go!”
I didn’t hesitate.
I sprinted through the chaos, ducking low as debris whipped past me. A uniform jacket spun loose from a line — I grabbed it mid-stride and shoved it on without breaking pace.
The layout felt strange. There was too much open ground in the centre of the base.
My skin prickled.
I was almost at the barracks when I saw her step outside.
Georgina Quinn.
“Dominic!” she shouted. “This is an attack!”
The gale screamed around us now — full force — tearing at her hair, snapping fabric like gunfire.
Dominic Lightwood ran toward her, one hand clutching a small device.
“Georgina! Get inside!”
She didn’t move. Just turned slowly and fixed him with a cold, assessing stare — like she’d been waiting for this.
“Now!” Dominic barked.
He slammed his thumb down.
The ground shuddered.
The ground split with a grinding crack. Something forced its way up through the earth — wide and circular — metal teeth chewing through gravel as if the base itself were being unzipped from below.
My skin crawled.
What the fuck was going on?
It wasn’t artillery. It wasn’t a missile system.
The smooth white casing was unmistakable.
Council tech.
Alarms erupted — sharp, piercing, urgent.
Every soldier in the vicinity dropped flat in unison — hard, practiced — like muscle memory had taken over before thought.
I spun back toward the perimeter.
“Ash!”
I ran.
He was still on the outskirts of the base, the wind roaring around him in violent spirals. From where I stood, I saw his eyes — glazed, unfocused, like he wasn’t commanding the storm anymore.
Like the storm had claimed him.
His power was too strong. The air between us fought me with every step. I couldn’t get close. Couldn’t reach him.
The device discharged.
A thunderous boom ripped through the base — not sound alone, but force. The air imploded first — sucked inward so hard my ears popped — and then the shockwave of light exploded outward, flattening everything in its path.
I stumbled as it hit.
Ash took it full-on.
It hurled his body through the air, flinging him back hundreds of feet like he weighed nothing at all.
He struck a tree with a sickening crack that echoed louder than the blast.
And the wind died.
Strong arms seized me, hauling me back. Soldiers swarmed Ash.
My phone was stripped from me.
And all I could see was Ash.
Lying on the ground.
Still.
What the hell have I done?