47. Seth
Seth
I can’t sleep.
Haven’t been able to for hours now. Everyone else finally crashed after the long day—the Oath Chamber is still running, Feeders streaming through one after another. Exhausting, necessary work.
But I’m too wired. Too aware of what’s coming.
So I sit in the common room, near the window where I can see the road leading up to the Sanctuary. Moonlight filters through the glass, casting everything in silver-blue. The fire had burned down to embers, but I don’t bother stoking it.
I’m not cold.
Just watchful.
The Sanctuary feels different than anywhere I’ve been. There’s a hum to it—like the walls themselves breathe with Ether. I’ve never felt anything like this before. Never felt anything this alive.
Never her.
I shift in the chair, trying not to think about the way Bree looked earlier when she came back from the Oath Chamber—exhausted but radiant, silver mist clinging to her like a second skin. The way she moves through this place like she was made for it.
Maybe she was.
A sound cuts through the quiet—footsteps outside, fast and urgent.
I’m on my feet before the door opens.
A young Feeder bursts in, breathless, eyes wide. “They’re coming. Ten minutes out. The Council—” He swallows hard. “And the man with them. ”
My pulse spikes, but I keep my voice level. “Wake Thane. I’ll get Bree.”
He nods and takes off down the hall.
I move quickly through the corridors, boots silent on stone. The Sanctuary is still sleeping—peaceful, unaware. I pass closed doors, hearing faint breathing, the occasional rustle of movement.
When I reach Bree’s room, I hesitate for half a second.
Then I push the door open.
The space is dimly lit, a single lantern burning low on the bedside table. She’s asleep, tangled in blankets, Theo beside her with one arm draped protectively across her waist. The faint shimmer of Ether glows around them both like morning fog.
She looks younger like this. Softer.
I cross to the bed and kneel beside it, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently. “Bree. Wake up.”
Her eyes snap open immediately—clear, sharp, fully aware despite having been asleep seconds ago. Theo stirs beside her, already alert.
“What is it?”
“They’re here. Ten minutes out.”
She sits up in one fluid motion, and Theo follows, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed on the other side. No panic. No hesitation. Just readiness from both of them.
“I’ll wake the others,” Theo says, already moving toward the door.
I step back, giving Bree space, averting my gaze as she stands and moves toward the wardrobe where her leathers hang.
The white ones .
I’ve seen them before at Auren’s—sleek, reinforced, somehow both elegant and deadly. When she pulls them on, the air in the room changes. The Ether responds, curling tighter around her, brighter.
She’s not just a woman getting dressed.
She’s armoring herself.
I move toward the door. “I’ll help Theo—”
“Wait.”
I stop. Turn back.
She crosses to me, stopping close enough that I can feel the hum of her magic against my skin. It’s warm, electric, alive.
Her voice softens. “Just in case I don’t get another chance to do this.”
Before I can ask what she means, she kisses me.
Her lips are soft against mine, tentative for just a breath before she commits fully. Her hand comes up to cup my jaw, fingers sliding into my hair, and I freeze for half a second—stunned by the certainty in her touch, the warmth of her mouth.
Then I kiss her back.
My hands find her waist, pulling her closer, and she makes a soft sound against my lips that nearly undoes me. She tastes like honey and something sweeter underneath, something that feels like home even though I’ve never had one.
The kiss deepens. Her fingers tighten in my hair and I angle my head, claiming her mouth more thoroughly. She melts into me, body fitting against mine like she was made for it.
And then—
She gasps against my mouth .
The Ether surges between us, wrapping around both of us in a silver blaze that fills the room. I feel the bond flare to life—not new to me, but new to her.
She knows now.
Bree pulls back slightly, eyes wide with shock, her hand flying to her chest like she can feel the connection burning there.
I’ve known since the Void. Since she said those words— you were supposed to be mine —and the bond locked into place while she was unconscious, fighting for her life. Even if I didn’t know what it was then. Not until Stellan put a name to it.
But she didn’t know.
Until now.
The bond hums under my skin, a pulse syncing with hers, faint but undeniable. The taste of her lingers—salt and static, the kind of heat that feels like it could burn through skin if I let it.
Her hand presses against my chest, right over my heart, trembling. I can see the realization in her eyes—the confusion, the wonder, the certainty all crashing together at once.
“You were already mine,” she whispers, voice shaking.
I cover her hand with mine, holding it there. “And now you know.”
Her breath hitches. For a moment, we just stand there, the Ether pulsing softly around us like a heartbeat.
Then she steps back, composure sliding back into place like armor. But her eyes are still wide, still stunned.
“We need to go,” she says. “Now you can wake the others.”
She nods once, breath still uneven, and turns toward the door.
Then we’re moving .
The Sanctuary is already stirring as we pass through the halls—doors opening, voices murmuring, footsteps quickening.
Rhett’s already halfway down the stairs, pulling on a shirt.
Jace is cursing under his breath as he buckles his knife belt.
Theo’s talking quietly to Gray near the common room entrance, both of them already dressed and armed.
We reach the common room where Thane is waiting, Wes hovering near the doorway, tense and alert.
Bree steps forward. “We don’t have time. Ten minutes.”
Thane nods once. “Then we meet them outside.”
Bree shakes her head. “Not yet. They’ll come to us.”
The group exchanges glances. No one argues.
“Feeders first,” she says. “I want them to see what we’ve built before the Council tries to tear it down.”
Rhett crosses his arms. “You think that’ll stop them?”
“No.” Her voice is steady. “But it’ll make a statement.”
Thane’s mouth curves slightly—not quite a smile, but close. “Then let’s make it loud.”
Bree moves toward the door, and we all fall in behind her. Not following. Supporting.
The air outside is cool, the sky still dark but beginning to lighten at the edges. Dawn’s not far off.
The door creaks open, and mist spills in like a living thing.
Bree steps through the archway first, into the courtyard beyond.
And stops.
The mist moves like breath through the open space, glinting silver in the first light.
I come up beside her, and my breath catches .
The courtyard is full.
Not just a few Feeders scattered around doing late-night repairs or standing watch.
Hundreds.
They line the edges of the space, standing in clusters, sitting on low walls, leaning against trees. Some are talking quietly. Others are silent, watching. Waiting.
Every single one of them stayed.
Bree’s hand lifts slightly, like she’s reaching for something that isn’t there. Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“I thought… I thought maybe a dozen would stay.”
“They all did,” Thane says quietly from behind her. “Every last one.”
She takes a step forward, and the nearest Feeders turn toward her. Then the next group. Then the next.
A ripple of movement spreads through the crowd as they all shift their attention to her—hundreds of eyes, hundreds of faces, all focused on the woman standing at the center of it all.
The Source.
Bree’s shoulders straighten. Her chin lifts.
The Ether rises around her like wings.
And for the first time since I met her, I see it clearly—not just the power, not just the magic.
The queen.