Chapter 140
With the first rays of sunlight piercing through the mist, we gather in the village hall. Maps were spread out on the central table, weighed down by mugs of steaming tea and small rocks to keep them from curling.
After a lot of back and forth, we decide that the primary group will attack from the valley, aiming to draw the Shadoweaver’s army out of hiding.
It’s a bold strategy, as the valley itself is a natural choke point, wide enough for an army to advance, but narrow enough to create vulnerabilities if an ambush were sprung.
It is there that the clash will begin, with the main force acting as both bait and hammer.
Meanwhile, I, along with Kaden and the luxaryn, will infiltrate the cave system. I shiver remembering how the air crackled with tension as the plan was explained; nervous glances were exchanged, yet I stood firm in my decision.
Locating Maxon will be the most challenging aspect of our plan, but the luxaryn cloaking my presence will buy me the necessary time. Not to mention the verse says only they can break his chains.
Now, I’m pacing my private tent as the countdown begins. We ride out in less than an hour to cross the veil into the Outlands, heading straight for the Deadlands where the cave systems are.
When Fenris took me out to see the veil this morning, I was in complete awe.
At first, I couldn’t see the veil at all.
It wasn’t until he pointed it out that it came into focus.
It’s just a shimmer in the air, like the wavering heat off sunbaked stone, barely noticeable against the eerie stillness before me.
But as my eyes adjust, the magic reveals itself.
A shimmering, white barrier stretches endlessly before me, pulsing faintly, its woven threads of power both beautiful and menacing.
It isn’t just a wall—it is a prison. And beyond it, trapped within this forsaken land, are those who have been banished, sealed away from the world they once knew.
To the west the Mistyglades stretch into the distance, its rolling fog dancing over the long golden grass, before giving way to the skeletal remains of a forest. The trees in the Outlands have been stripped of vibrance, their colors muted to lifeless grays and browns, their gnarled branches twisting like grasping fingers toward a sky choked with heavy clouds.
The Outlands look exactly as I expected—dead.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, I look up just as Zaria enters the tent, the flap swinging behind her.
“Kian told me you were in here. Are you ready?”
I stand and approach the large, heavy wooden chest Fenris had delivered, its dark wood gleaming under the dim light. My fingers tremble as I unlatch and open the lid. Inside is the armor George made me.
“Will you help me put it on?” I request over my shoulder.
“Of course.”
Together, we carefully fit the armor over my fighting gear. The metal plates gleam faintly in the flickering torchlight. Zaria’s hands move deftly, strapping everything in place. She tugs at the final buckle, ensuring it’s secure, and steps back to inspect her work.
“All that’s left is your sword,” she notes, her voice softer than usual.
My hand closes around the weapon, its energy vibrating under my palm.
“Raiden isn’t happy you’re going in alone.”
I sigh, meeting her worried gaze. “I won’t be alone. Kaden will be with me.”
Her brow furrows, the crease between her eyebrows deepening. “Exactly. Raiden doesn’t know him, and you are our queen.”
“Taking more people could draw attention. This mission requires stealth.”
Zaria steps closer, her hands landing gently on my shoulders. She gives me a small, bittersweet smile, the kind that speaks of reluctant acceptance.
“We know,” she whispers softly. “We just don’t like it.”
I place my hand over hers, squeezing lightly. “I’ll be careful.”
Her smile doesn’t falter, but I see the worry lingering in her eyes.
The tent flap opens and Alivar steps inside. His eyes roam the armor, and he lets out a low whistle. “You look amazing.”
“She looks like a warrior,” Zaria agrees.
“A queen ready for war,” he adds with a wink.
“That’s exactly what I am, Alivar.” I heave a sigh.
He steps aside, pulling the tent flap open for me. “My army is ready and waiting.”
A storm of emotions swirls inside me—relief, fear, something close to disbelief—but above it all, gratitude rises like a tide.
Alivar owes me nothing, yet he’s given more than I ever dared ask for.
That kind of kindness and loyalty doesn’t just sit quietly in your chest. It stays, settles deep, and humbles you.
I let out a deep breath and nod. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
It’s time to rescue my mate.
Zaria leads the way, stepping outside first. I move to follow, but Alivar’s hand lands on my arm, stalling me. When I glance up into those sharp amethyst eyes, my heart stalls. Flickers of blue flash in their depths, the silver ring around them sparking with life as he steps closer.
“I want you to be safe. If shit goes down, you need to retreat. We can try again.”
I frown, opening my mouth to argue, but Alivar doesn't give me that chance. He steps outside and disappears into the crowd.
From my vantage point atop Aetheris, I survey the assembled armies, eager to fight for the king’s return.
In a central position, Storm stands tall alongside Raiden, Tristan, and Kian, his onyx coat shimmering.
There is no way he was going to sit this one out.
With a snort and a pawing hoof, the loyal warhorse stands ready, eager to aid his king in whatever way he can.
I’ve given Nymeria and Anika strict instructions: stay close to him, watch each other’s backs, and be ready for anything.
Nero catches my eye and gives me a slight nod, the magic around his body making the air tremble.
As I let my gaze roam over the armies, doubt claws at the edge of my mind. What if they die? What if I’m sending them to their deaths?
‘Then it happens,’ Aetheris answers in my mind.
I jerk at the matter-of-fact response, my fingers tightening in her mane.
‘I don’t want people to die,’ I reply.
I’ve noticed since the flight here that our bond has strengthened and now rests calmly next to the wolves’.
‘It is inevitable. Everyone here knows the risks.’
‘Doesn’t make me feel better.’
I look down at my engagement ring, the gold band and crystals catching the sunlight. I promised Maxon’s court I would return with him, and I plan to do just that. This is for him.
Soon he will be by my side again.
Nothing will stop me.
My attention lifts again to the bleak expanse of the Outlands—silent, scarred, and watchful. No beasts, no scouts, no sign of movement. It is too quiet and I don’t like it.
Ahead, the mountains rise like the ribs of a long-dead titan, jagged and shrouded with shadows.
The army begins to advance, boots crunching dry earth as they head toward the valley. With the attack on the City of Starlight only a few days ago, we are assuming the Shadoweavers numbers to be low, and hoping to meet with little resistance.
‘When we enter the mountain,’ Aetheris continues, striding forward with Starfire, ‘we’ll need to release the cloak surrounding the army. The distraction will draw her forces out. But we will remain hidden from the Shadoweaver as we descend into the caves to find your king.’
I turn to Kaden. Our eyes meet. His expression is all grim resolve and unspoken trust. He nods once, firm and final.
‘Starfire found a side passage,’ he tells me. ‘A hidden entrance near the main opening. While the army engages hers head-on, we’ll slip inside—quiet, fast, unseen.’
I nod, gripping the hilt of my sword in one hand and the white mane of Aetheris in the other. Into the belly of the beast we go.