Chapter 1
Rafe
I woke with a groan.
I was flat on my back, staring up into an old, wooden ceiling.
Shadows spilled from every corner as I launched onto my hands and knees, my eyes darting across the scene in front of me.
And the scene in front of me was…dusty.
I coughed at the disgusting realization, and a shadow swiped at my shoulder where a literal cobweb was floating in the air.
I shuddered in horror, jumping to my feet a moment later.
I didn’t recognize this building. I coughed again, the leftover smoke in my lungs still irritating my throat–
I sucked in a ragged gasp.
The fire.
There’d been a fire.
Wyatt.
I spun in a circle, skidding to a stop when a familiar flash of red hair caught my eye.
There was a dusty couch in this dusty room, and Aiden was there, looking dusty and paler than usual.
I darted forward, practically slamming my hand onto his neck to check for his pulse right as a shadow reassured me he was alive.
Alive just…asleep.
That didn’t make sense. Aiden would never have willingly fallen asleep if Skye weren’t here. Especially not after whatever had happened in the Palace.
How long had I been out?
Skye? I tried calling out, but there was no answer. Wyatt?
What had happened?
Wyatt and I were in a fire, and now…
Now, I was in a dusty old…farmhouse. The wooden floors were warped from humidity.
The old curtains were dull from dust, and sand lined the walls.
The taste of salt was strong as if we were on the beach.
Waves crashed outside at the thought, and I nodded to myself.
We were in the islands, then. Of course Skye would bring us back here for safety, but… this wasn’t the apartment. Obviously.
A short hallway and a set of stairs led to a few bedrooms. One undoubtedly belonged to a teenage boy, movie posters lining the walls with a plain blue comforter barely covering the bed.
Another room had a large Chain bed, disturbed as if someone had slept in it recently, or at least more recently than the rest of the home.
Another door beside the boy’s room was locked.
The shadows prodded at the door knob for just a few seconds before a blood-curdling scream rent the air.
Every nerve in my body jolted, and I whirled around.
Skye.
I’d never heard her make such a sound, but I would know her voice anywhere.
I shadow-walked back to the main room to skip the stairs, and an icy chill shot down my spine.
My Key knelt on the ground, still wearing her ruined dress from the gala. She held Wyatt to her chest, his tux torn, dark, and drenched in blood.
“You’re so fucking stupid!” Skye shrieked at Wyatt, though there was no way he could hear, as he was clearly unconscious. An invisible force grabbed me, then pulled me to her side. “Hold him, I have to get Zephyr.”
She teleported away a moment later, and Wyatt’s very broken body landed in my arms.
His face was unrecognizable, looking like he’d been crushed in a vise. My heart pounded as I felt along his chest, cringing at how my hand pushed into his chest, his sternum just…gone. He wheezed a broken sound and my eyes actually prickled with tears.
“Fuck you, Wyatt,” I whispered. “You’re not supposed to die before me. What the hell did you do?”
He wheezed another rattle-y sound of protest, and I shook my head.
“Yeah, you did something. She’d never have let you get like this,” I whispered harshly. This was his fault. I’d tell him I told him so even as he lay dying, because that was exactly what he’d expect from me.
I settled him onto the salty floorboards as gently as possible while a few shadows tried to push the dust away. I felt along Wyatt’s chest again, relieved to feel he was breathing, though it was weak and stilted. There was no way I could do CPR on him in this state.
We needed a Healer. I remembered that Marion Holmes had been at the gala. Maybe–
Skye reappeared then, her brother right beside her.
Zephyr was wearing some pajama pants and a t-shirt, and his curly hair was wet and foamy as if he’d been in the midst of a haircare routine.
He bristled as he glanced around the space, stumbling toward Aiden initially, then caught sight of me on the ground, hovering over Wyatt.
He froze for just a moment, then lurched toward us.
He crashed into the ground, his hands landing on Wyatt’s chest. He hissed through his teeth, then shouldered me out of the way.
I fell back on my ass, and Skye’s affinity grabbed a hold of me before I could scramble back up, dragging me across the floor and jolting me to a stop near the kitchen counter. I jumped back to my feet, my mind racing. I wasn’t sure what to do.
There was really nothing I could do. I wasn’t a Healer. Hell, I didn’t even know basic medical terms. I’d only hinder Zephyr if I tried to intervene.
Skye was pacing back and forth like an angry tiger in a zoo, her bare feet somehow echoing across the floorboards. Her rosy cheeks were surprisingly tear-free, though every few steps she’d let out a little whimper.
After several seconds of silence, Zephyr breathed out slowly, then spoke.
“Skye,” he said shakily. His hands hovered over Wyatt’s chest, his fingers twitching. “He’s…”
“Don’t,” Skye screeched, burying her hands in her hair. “Just fix him, Zephyr.”
Zephyr cringed, but continued to move his hands over Wyatt’s body, his fingers twitching and curling when they rested over a particularly bloody spot. “He’s…I don’t know where to start, sweets.”
“Pick a spot!” Skye screamed again. Her hair was now floating in the air, even the massive diamond I’d put around her neck was beginning to levitate.
“Skye,” I said gently.
“No,” she cried. “Do something. Do something, please!”
Zephyr ignored her, his hands shaking slightly while he tried to find a starting point. Skye’s hair began to float higher, and I decided to grab her.
“No!” She shrieked again, exploding into a flurry of nails and fists. I grunted as she clawed at my chest, then slapped at my face. Shadows vibrated around me, conflicted. Not wanting to get involved but still reacting to the sting of her little kitten nails as they scratched me.
Zephyr couldn’t be distracted right now, he needed his full concentration. Regardless of their issues, Wyatt was her Link, and she had every right to freak the fuck out. But I didn’t think I could ever forgive her if Wyatt died because she was spiraling. I loved him, too.
Zephyr ignored us the best he could, moving his hands across Wyatt’s body as his affinity went to work.
Skye stopped fighting pretty quickly, deflating against me and going completely silent.
She scrunched up her arms between us, trying to make herself as small as possible.
I rocked her back and forth, my eyes wide as I watched Zephyr.
“He’s alive,” Zephyr said after several minutes of charged silence.
“I know,” she whispered.
“His lung is punctured, but–” Zephyr hissed as he worked. I could almost see the glow from his affinity moving through Wyatt’s torso, something that I’d only ever seen from Marion, and I thought that was because she was an ancient Healer from the Palace. “His sternum is just…shattered, Skye.”
Skye tensed in my arms, taking in a shaking breath.
“Don’t explain,” I said sharply. “She doesn’t need to hear it.”
Zephyr nodded, not bothered by my tone. He continued his work, though none of it seemed to be making a difference. Wyatt still looked completely broken.
What happened? I asked Skye, half to distract her and half to distract myself.
He fucking jumped on me, she explained, spinning around to grab my collar. The wall was coming down and he didn’t let me catch it, he just fucking jumped on me.
I shook my head. God, Wyatt was such a self-sacrificing asshole.
I could’ve caught it, Skye pulled my collar tighter, like she really wanted me to pay attention. I would have caught it.
I believe you, darling, I replied reassuringly, then asked out loud, “What’s wrong with Aiden?”
“Nothing I can fix,” Zephyr grunted. “He’s just asleep.”
“He was knocked out,” Skye whispered, her voice raspy. “Lena Iykos did something to him while we were with the Crusader. I can’t wake him.”
“Fuck.”
Sweat began to bead across Zephyr’s forehead and his hands started to shake as he moved. Suddenly, he rocked back on his haunches before taking a shuddering breath. “Rafe,” he said shakily. “I…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I need help.”
Skye pressed her face against my shoulder.
“I’ll be right back.”
I felt like I’d walked into an alternate universe.
The Palace wasn’t in complete disarray, somehow.
Besides the fact that the entire south wing had disintegrated, things actually seemed to be running smoothly.
The Palace guards were everywhere, their green uniforms flashing in the emergency lights.
Investigators were questioning some guests from the gala, but it appeared as if the zealots had already been cleared out.
The moon peeked out from behind the cloud cover, illuminating the lawn, and–
I stopped in my tracks, blinking furiously as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
An entire wing of the Palace was just…gone.
Smoke was still billowing into the sky, thick and choking while water affinates continued to put out the remaining flames.
What the fuck kind of fire could burn stone?
I headed up the semi-ruined steps, freezing when a shadow lurched toward a Palace guard I hadn’t seen.
The guard gasped, his sword clattering to the ground, and then he gasped again.
His expression barely changed when he realized it was me on the steps instead of an intruder, which would’ve been funny if I weren’t already pissed.
“Your Grace,” he squeaked. “W-welcome home!”
I scrunched up my nose at him, then strode away. A shadow prodded at my shoulder, but I waved it off. We would have time to address inconsistencies in the guard later, but now, I could hear my mother’s voice and I hadn’t even made it to her wing.