FAREWELLS & FLIGHT
The academy's grand clock tower chimed midday, its bells echoing through the halls like a somber farewell.
I stood in Lucien's chambers, staring at the half-packed bag on the bed, my hands trembling as I folded another dress—simple, practical, nothing like the flowing gowns I'd worn during our bonding rituals.
The silver glow in my hair had dimmed to a subtle shimmer, but the power inside me hummed constantly now, a reminder that the beings' retreat was temporary.
They'd be back. Stronger. And next time, our wards might not hold.
Lucien's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
He stood by the window, his celestial eyes scanning the grounds below where students milled about, oblivious to the gathering storm.
"We can't stay here," he said firmly, turning to face the group.
The mates were scattered around the room—Rowan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his fiery temper barely contained; Caeden pacing with shadows trailing like smoke; Lysander perched on the edge of the desk, his vampire grace masking the tension in his posture; Aeryn near the door, his wind magic stirring the curtains restlessly; Theron and Evander flanking me, their dark presences a comforting shield.
I nodded, though my chest tightened at the thought. "The beings... they said the fracture grows. If we stay, the academy becomes a target. Students could get hurt."
Rowan's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with draconic fury. "Damn right. We've stabilized your magic with the bonds, but those things are drawn to you like moths to flame. We need time—away from here—to prepare. Train you fully in the gifts, research sealing rituals for the void."
Caeden stopped pacing, his shadows coiling tighter.
"I've scouted the grounds. The wards are holding for now, but they're weakening.
A remote location—somewhere warded naturally, like the Elderwood Forests or the Stellar Caves in the north.
We can phase through shadows to get there quickly, minimize exposure. "
Lysander tilted his head, his fangs glinting faintly as he considered. "The caves," he murmured. "Ancient stellar energy there—ties to your heritage. But we'll need supplies. And... goodbyes."
The word hung heavy. Goodbyes. To families, to friends, to the life we'd known. Sera's face flashed in my mind—her hurt expression when she'd learned about the bonds with her brothers. And the others... did they have families waiting? People who'd worry?
Aeryn's wind brushed my cheek gently, as if sensing my turmoil. "We'll make it quick," he said softly. "Say what needs to be said, then go. The wind will carry us swiftly."
Theron crossed his arms, his corruption magic flickering in his golden eyes. "Our family—Sera's family—will understand. But it'll be hard on her. On you."
Evander nodded, his violet gaze meeting mine. "We'll face it together. Pack light—essentials only. Weapons, tomes, healing herbs. And... something personal. To remind us why we fight."
Lucien's hand found mine, squeezing gently. "We leave at dusk. That gives us time for farewells."
The decision settled over us like a cloak, heavy but necessary. I felt the bonds pulse—agreement from all, laced with resolve. We're with you, little star, Lucien's voice whispered in my mind. Always.
Packing was a blur of motion and emotion.
I moved through the room like a ghost, selecting items with care: a simple cloak for travel, sturdy boots, a dagger Evander had gifted me during one of our lighter moments—its blade etched with protective runes.
Theron helped, his large hands folding clothes with surprising gentleness.
"You'll need this," he said, handing me a vial of dark liquid—his corruption essence, diluted for emergencies.
"If things get intense, it amplifies your strength. "
Evander added a small pouch of herbs. "For dreams," he murmured. "If the beings invade your sleep again, this will shield you."
Rowan packed weapons—his fire-imbued sword, daggers that heated on command. "For protection," he growled, but his eyes softened when he handed me a small locket. "From my family crest. Wear it— it'll remind you you're not alone."
Caeden's shadows helped, coiling around items and placing them in the bag efficiently. He slipped in a shadow-cloak—a garment that blended with darkness. "Phase through threats if needed," he said, kissing my temple.
Lysander added ancient tomes from his collection—vampire lore on blood bonds and stellar alignments. "Knowledge is power," he purred, his cool fingers brushing mine. "And this—" he held up a vial of his blood. "If you're hurt, drink. It'll heal you."
Aeryn packed lightweight items—feathers infused with wind magic for enhanced jumps. "Fly if you must," he whispered, his wind teasing my hair. He added a small compass that pointed to safety, guided by air currents.
Lucien oversaw it all, adding celestial maps and star charts. "For navigation," he said. "And this—" a pendant glowing with starlight. "It links to me. If we're separated, it'll guide you back."
As the bags filled, the reality sank in. We were leaving—fleeing to hiding until I was ready to face the void fully. The academy had been my sanctuary, but now it was a liability.
The farewells began at lunch. We gathered in a private hall, the mates arranging discreet meetings with families.
First, Sera's—our—family. The Leontari estate was a portal away, thanks to Lucien's magic.
We stepped through, emerging in the familiar warmth of their home—the scent of wildflowers and cinnamon wrapping around me like a hug.
Maia, Sera's mother, waited in the grand hall, her eyes sharp but kind. The younger siblings swarmed me, tugging at my silver hair with wide-eyed wonder. "You look like a moon princess!" the littlest cried.
Sera stood beside her mother, her expression a mix of worry and resignation. "You're leaving," she said flatly, reading it on my face.
I nodded, tears welling. "We have to. The beings... they're coming back. We need time to prepare, in hiding."
Maia's face hardened, but she pulled me into a hug. "Then take our strength with you." She handed me a satchel—herbs, potions, a family crest amulet. "For protection. And Lani... take care of my boys." Her eyes flicked to Theron and Evander, who stood stoic but touched.
Theron hugged his mother fiercely. "We'll be back," he promised. "Keep the family safe."
Evander kissed her cheek. "And Sera... forgive us for not telling you sooner."
Sera hugged me tight, her voice breaking. "You're family now. Come back to us."
The goodbyes to the younger ones were harder—tears, promises of stories upon return. The baby thunder god clung to my leg, and I knelt, kissing his curls. "Be brave," I whispered.
Leaving them felt like tearing a piece of my heart, but the bonds steadied me—the mates' emotions a buffer against the pain.
Next were Rowan's family—a draconic clan in the southern mountains.
We portaled there, emerging in a cavernous hall lit by eternal flames.
His parents—fierce warriors with scales glinting—embraced him, then me.
"Our son's flame," his mother said, pressing a fire-imbued bracelet into my hand. "It'll shield you."
Rowan knelt before his father, who clasped his shoulder. "Protect her. She's your hoard now."
The farewell was stoic, but Rowan's eyes glistened as we left.
Caeden's family was shadows—umbral fae in hidden realms. We phased there via his gift, into a world of eternal twilight. His siblings—dark and elusive—greeted us warily, but warmed when they saw the bond. "Sister of shadows," his elder sister said, gifting me a cloak of night. "Hide well."
Caeden's goodbye was quiet, a nod and a promise: "We'll return stronger."
Lysander's noble vampire kin awaited in a gothic manor. His sire—a ancient lord—eyed me appraisingly. "The last siren," he murmured, offering a vial of ancient blood. "For strength." Lysander's embrace with his family was formal, but the bond let me feel his quiet sorrow.
Aeryn's sylvan family was wind-swept cliffs, fae with wings like gossamer. His mother hugged me fiercely. "Our daughter's wind," she said, gifting feathers for flight. Aeryn's farewell was light, but his wind stirred emotionally.
Lucien's "family" was celestial archives—ethereal beings like faded stars. They blessed me with star maps. "Guide her well," they intoned. Lucien's goodbye was a silent communion.
The twins' farewell was with the Leontari again—deeper, with Maia blessing our union.
By dusk, we were ready. Bags packed, hearts heavy. We gathered in the courtyard, the academy looming like a lost home. "To the Stellar Caves," Lucien said, opening a portal.
I stepped through last, glancing back. "Goodbye," I whispered.
The caves welcomed us with stellar glow—natural wards humming. We set up camp, the mates arranging protections. As night fell, exhaustion hit, but the bonds kept us close. In hiding, we'd prepare. The void waited, but so did our strength.