Chapter 9
Elira
I walked up to my room with Leo behind me. When I reached the door, I saw Slade waiting beside it.
I sighed.
“I’ll be in soon,” Leo said, touching my back. “Just going to shower.”
I nodded once, eyes still on Slade.
He didn’t move as I approached.
“You ran off,” he said. His voice was flat—careful.
“I did,” I replied, stepping past him and into the room.
He followed without needing permission.
I sat down in the chair by the fire, where a low blaze was already crackling. The heat helped. A little.
I picked at the torn edge of my dress, the fabric singed and dirt-streaked from earlier, then turned my eyes to the flames.
Slade sat on the bed, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
I could feel him staring. Finally, I glanced over.
“What?” I muttered. “Go on. I know you have something to say, grumpy bear. Let’s hear it.”
“I’m still waiting on an explanation,” he said. Calm. Not angry. Not yet.
Just waiting.
“I don’t enjoy spectacles,” I said finally. “And that’s all that was.”
“You don’t always have to run,” he said.
“Running is easier. I have a lot of practise at it.”
“I know.” Slade said.
I slumped back. “The queen and I had a discussion. About me joining the army.”
Slade blinked. It wasn’t what he expected—but it didn’t surprise him either.
“You want to fight?”
“I want to move,” I said. “To be active. To stop… stagnating.”
I looked at the fire, then back at him.
“I can’t sit still anymore, Slade.”
“You could be right,” he said finally. I looked at him, surprised.
“What?”
“Joining the fight. Maybe it’s something we all need.”
I stared at him. “You actually agree with me?”
He gave the faintest shrug. “Stranger things have happened.”
“I suppose,” I replied, a little wry.
Slade kicked off his boots and sat back like the matter was settled.
“We’ll start training again tomorrow. I’ll volunteer, and you can join the regiment.”
“Just like that?”
He glanced at me, brow raised. “You were expecting a fight?”
“Always.”
He shrugged. “I don’t feel like it tonight. Fighting’s good though. Visceral. Practically therapy.”
I tilted my head. “You think I need therapy?”
He didn’t even blink. “We all do, I’d wager. No one goes through the shit we did and comes out completely clean.”
Then he laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head like he’d done it a hundred times before.
I stared at him. “You’re staying, I suppose?”
“Is that a problem?” he asked, eyes already half-lidded, his voice low with exhaustion.
“No,” I said, quieter this time.
I turned my back to him and stripped off the ruined dress, pulling on the loose pyjamas Syrena had left folded near the hearth. The silk clung slightly to my skin, still damp from the sea air and everything else I hadn’t shed.
Behind me, Slade didn’t move. Didn’t look.
That stillness—his quiet, deliberate restraint—made something deep inside me loosen. Like I could breathe again.
I turned off the light and slid beneath the covers, drawn to his quiet warmth. The scent of stone and ash clung to him—earthy, grounding. Like home, if I’d ever had one.
Moments later, I heard the door creak open. Footsteps.
Leo.
He muttered something under his breath—grumbling about sharing a bed with Slade again—but his voice was softer than usual, tired around the edges. He didn’t stop. Just peeled off his boots and climbed in beside me.
Gods, the bed was big enough. But the space between us was shrinking.
I melted into the mattress, the heat of them anchoring me on either side. Warmth curled around my ribs like a balm I didn’t know I needed.
Then—another creak. The door. Again.
The mattress shifted under a new weight.
“Oh come on,” Leo groaned. “Is this a sleepover now?”
“Technically, yes,” Phoenix murmured from the dark, his voice bone-dry. “Don’t worry. I don’t snore.”
He took the far edge without hesitation, his presence a steady hum even in silence.
I didn’t stop him.
I didn’t stop any of them.
For once… I let myself be held.
**
The halls were quiet and still.
I was skipping through them, my body smaller, lighter. Humming a little song to myself.
I liked Shadowmere better than Blackspire. It was way prettier. The lights were brighter here, and the gardens smelled like real things—grass, and flowers, and fresh air.
Blackspire always smelled sick. Every time Daddy took me there, it made my nose wrinkle.
I wished we could stay here forever.
I skipped along the hallway to Daddy’s study at the end. I heard his voice behind the door, and something warm bloomed in my chest.
A little mouse scuttled across the floor ahead of me. Soft, grey, skittish. Mummy would’ve been mad, but I always liked the animals. Especially the black cat that came to my room at night. She was quiet. Watchful.
She never stayed long, but I knew she was mine.
I missed daddy.
I peeked around the half-open door.
Daddy was inside, speaking in hushed whispers with someone. I thought it was a woman, but I wasn’t sure—her voice was soft, floaty, like the wind through curtains.
Then he did something to the bookshelf. Pressed a little button, maybe. I couldn't quite see.
A small door swung open behind the shelf.
He placed something inside. Something small. I tried to lean in, to see what it was—
But I couldn’t.
And then he looked up.
Our eyes met.
And just like that, the hidden door slammed shut.
The dream shifted around me. I was playing outside in the garden. Someone approached me. A man. He was tall and cloaked and it felt cold. He stared at me and I shivered, looking up.
“Hello, pretty girl,” he said, his voice echoing in my mind.
“Hello,” I said, my voice polite.
“I have a present for you.” He held out a bloody red rose. “I saw this and thought of you…”
I pulled my cloak tighter around me. But I took it anyway. “Thank you,” I said formally, holding the rose gingerly like it might bite me.
The man smiled, his eyes too bright.
“Elira!”
Someone yelled for me.
“I have to go.”
“Stay.” The word was soft, but it slithered under my skin.
Elira! Elira!
I tried to get up and run, but the garden twisted around me, the air turning heavy, syrup-thick.
His hand clamped around my arm—long, talon-like fingers digging in, anchoring me in place.
“Stay forever,” he whispered.
I ripped my arm free and it hurt! Beneath me the world cracked apart. Giant crevasses formed under my feet. I was shaking, I was sliding.
I was falling.
I stumbled down, down, down through darkness so black it was suffocating. When I finally landed I was in a room But I wasn’t alone.
Thorne lay on the ground, surrounded by mirrors. He was muttering to himself, over and over again.
“Elira… I have to.. save them all.. no… not real! Kill… kill me..”
A little girl in a wheelchair sat beside him, tears flowing, but otherwise unmoving with blank eyes.
I stepped forward. “Thorne?” I whispered, my gut clenched.
I reached for him. My hand touched his shoulder. He exploded.
Fingers like iron clamped around my throat as he spun, face twisted in agony.
“Kill me!” he screamed.
His eyes were wild—red-rimmed, hollow. Not fully seeing me. Not fully there.
The mirrors shattered. All of them. A thousand cracks raced outward in a single breath.
In one shard, a rose disintegrated into ash, alone in the dark
My shadows surged on instinct—curling around us like a storm, like a shield, like a scream I couldn’t make.
And then—
I was falling again.
Down and out and away—
**
I gasped awake, breath catching like a sob in my throat.
My body jolted upright, the blankets tangled around my legs, skin damp with sweat.
Beside me, Slade didn’t stir. Leo shifted in his sleep, his brow pinching, but neither of them woke. I was grateful.
I pressed a hand to my chest, breathing hard.
“Are you okay, Elle?”
Phoenix’s voice was soft—barely more than a whisper—from across the room.
He looked up, eyes tired but alert. “Did I wake you?”
He sat at my desk, lit only by a flickering candle. A few open papers were scattered in front of him, along with a teapot still gently steaming. The sharp scent of peppermint drifted in the air.
I eased out of bed, careful not to wake the others, and stepped toward him.
“No,” I said quietly. “Just…”
“Dreams again?”
I hesitated—then nodded.
He grimaced. “I’m sorry this is so hard.”
“It’s not your fault,” I murmured, then glanced at his papers. “What are you working on?”
“I’m trying to figure out where our armies are. Shadowmere forces have been scattered for many years. I’m hoping to find a way to pull them back together, to get some kind of unified force out of this mess.”
“Where are you looking?” I stepped over and sat beside him. He offered me his tea and I took a sip.
A map of Caerthynis lay before him—our world, spread in ink and parchment.
He pointed to a cluster of islands scattered like gems across the western sea.
“This is us. The Veilguard Isles,” he said. “Shadowmere, Sorrowsea, and Velmere rule over this region.”
His finger lingered over the main three islands, then drifted eastward across the parchment—toward the continent.
“This is Varrowmere,” he continued, tapping a jagged expanse of land bordered by dense shading. “It’s hemmed in by Darkmoor Forest to the north, and the Widow’s Spine to the south.”
He traced the forest line, then the curve of the mountain range.
“Duskfall is here, just beyond the border—east of the forest and close to Iron Reach.”
He tapped the map again, voice lowering.
“This is where Vael is believed to be now—deep in Iron Reach, in talks with King Ivan.”
I sat back. “So what’s the plan?”
Phoenix pointed to a narrow strip of land connecting the mainland to the southern isles. It was thin—almost a bottleneck.
“If we can gather enough allies, we’ll have to hold here.”
His finger rested on a fortress icon, etched into the parchment like a scar.
“This is the Veilguard Garrison. It guards the only land bridge between the mainland and the rest of the Veilguard isles.”