Chapter 40
Chapter
Forty
“We counted six ships flying New Dominion flags.”
The scout stood in front of the Small Council, still wearing his creased and salt-crusted leathers.
He addressed them all, but Araya didn’t miss the way his brow creased as his gaze drifted from Loren and her place at his side—all the way to where Eloria sat beside her own mate, several chairs down.
She slipped her hand into Loren’s under the table, squeezing gently.
It wasn’t the scout’s fault—Loren was the prince they’d mourned, back from the dead.
But his sister had ruled in his stead for twenty years.
Eloria was the one they knew. The one who had kept the fae alive through the long, dark years, one impossible decision at a time. They trusted her.
“How many on board?” Loren asked.
“The ships are large, Your Majesty.” The scout turned, hastily refocusing. “With their full complement, our best estimate is that we could be facing as many as fifteen hundred New Dominion soldiers.”
Araya stopped breathing.
Fifteen hundred New Dominion soldiers. Lumaria had walls, but so many fae lived outside them—and there was no navy, no soldiers. They had only survived this long because the Shadowed Veil sank any ship that approached it—but now those shadows were thinning with every passing day.
Because of her.
“How long until they reach us?” Eloria asked.
“At their current rate of travel, they should make landfall by dawn,” the scout said.
Hours. They had hours before the New Dominion landed on their doorstep with fifteen hundred soldiers. It wasn’t enough time. Even if they’d had days, there was no way they could prepare to face an attack of that scale—
“We should restore the Shadowed Veil immediately,” Eloria’s commander at arms said, his voice slicing through the stunned silence. “They never should have been pulled back in the first place.”
Araya flushed, the back of her neck burning. Cormac didn’t need to name her for everyone at this table to know exactly what he meant. She opened her mouth, the beginnings of an apology bitter on her tongue, but before she could voice it, Loren spoke.
“They weren’t pulled back,” Loren said sharply.
“They’re dissipating—because my mate and your queen did what was necessary to save my life.
” He glanced around the table at his assembled advisors.
“I didn’t see any of you walking into the shadows with us.
Would you have preferred she left me there and come back here so you could vote on whether she should save my life? ”
“The Veil kept Eluneth safe for years.” Cormac stood his ground, glaring at her even as he addressed Loren. “She could have spared some thought for the fae she was harming—”
“Those shadows were starving you,” Loren snapped. “They were harming the fae who remain in the New Dominion—”
Across the table, Cormac’s brows rose, his mouth twisting in disdain. “The fae here are your people, Your Majesty. They’re the ones you should concern yourself with.”
Araya stared down at the table, focusing on the edge of the map just beyond her reach. Cormac’s condemnation curled beneath her ribs, the silence that greeted his words only confirming it. The fae living in the New Dominion weren’t their people. And neither was she.
“The last I checked, we were all Valenya.” Loren rose, the aetherlamps flickering wildly as shadows curled along the edge of the room like smoke, pooling around his feet and cooling the air around them. “The fae living under the New Dominion are our people.”
He bared his teeth, glaring around the room at his assembled advisors.
“The shadows are mine. They chose me to lead,” he snarled. “And I do not need your permission to pull them back from harming those I’ve sworn to protect.”
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. The only sound was the hiss of the shadows, coiling around Loren’s feet like loyal hounds. No one dared speak, the advisors glancing at each other nervously in the suddenly dim light.
“You’ve overstepped, Cormac,” Eloria said finally.
“If it’s even possible, we can consider reestablishing some sort of barrier in a careful, controlled manner that does not harm the fae here or our citizens still living in the New Dominion.
But these ships were already on their way here.
Truly, we’re lucky the shadows thinned when they did, or we wouldn’t have seen them coming until they were already upon us. ”
“And how were they doing that?” Cormac demanded. “The humans have never been able to navigate the Shadowed Sea—our own ships can barely make it across the Veil.”
A few advisors murmured, the tension thickening with every heartbeat. But it was Eryn who cleared his throat, his soft voice carrying in the silence.
“My intelligence indicates that Jaxon Shaw is now wielding a staff inscribed with runes that offer him some degree of control over the shadows,” he said. “If they’ve truly come up with a way to wield influence over dara’el…there’s no telling what else they’ve done.”
Araya’s stomach twisted as every eye turned to her.
“And does Lady Starwind have any insight into how the humans achieved this?” Cormac sneered, his sharp teeth bared. “You are intimately familiar with his work, aren’t you?”
“Cormac—” Eloria warned, her voice rising as the temperature in the room dropped. “This isn’t helpful.”
“Isn’t that why she’s here?” Cormac demanded. “She was his bond—or should I say is? She hasn’t had her runes removed. How does that work?” He turned to her, his black eyes cruel. “I’ve never heard of someone being bonded to two people at once.”
“That’s enough.” Loren stood, the shadows hissing and snapping around him. “She’s not on trial here.”
“Maybe she should be,” Cormac said, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a snarl.
The shadows seethed, lashing out across the table with a crack like a whip. Splinters of wood flew from the impact, sending several of Eloria’s advisors scrambling. But Cormac just sat there, smiling like this was exactly what he wanted.
Because he wanted them all to see Loren lose control.
And they would, if no one did anything. His fury battered her through the bond, whipping the shadows into a frenzy. He wanted to hurt this male—kill him—for the things he was saying about her.
But if he did…he’d be giving Cormac exactly what he wanted.
“Lord Ironvale is right.” Araya stood hastily, grabbing Loren’s hand and squeezing it as hard as she could.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure it would be enough—but then his fingers tightened around hers, the shadows sliding back to wrap her in their cool embrace.
“I do still wear the runes the New Dominion put on me. And Jaxon Shaw does own my true name.”
She took a deep breath, meeting each of their gazes in turn. Some stared at her with nothing but disgust like Cormac—but others met her eyes with desperation, fear and hope at war on their faces.
“If I cared about sparing myself your judgement, I wouldn’t be standing here right now,” she said quietly. “But I am—because I love your prince. And I want to help save our people.”
“Are we finished with this line of discussion?” Loren asked when no one said anything else. His green eyes flashed from councilor to councilor, daring any of them to speak out against her.
No one did.
“Then let’s move on.”
“Our focus needs to be on keeping them from making landfall,” Eloria said, her finger gliding across the jagged edge of the coast. “We don’t have the numbers to face a force of that size on land.”
“I have control of the shadows now,” Loren said. He stared down at the maps, scowling like he could make them give him a different answer. “We can use them—make them pay in blood for every inch of sea they cross.”
“But can we trust the shadows to hold them back?” Galen shifted in his seat, glancing uneasily at her as the shadows rippled, ready to defend her against this new threat. “The New Dominion’s already shown they can move through them. Do we know how they’d react to a direct assault?”
“It’s not something they would have been able to test.” Araya squeezed Loren’s hand gently, trying to project a calm she didn’t feel through their bond. “It’s likely they’ll err on the side of caution, especially with high-level officials on the ships.”
Officials like the High Magister’s son.
“So they won’t bring them in close,” Eloria murmured. “They’ll have to use smaller boats to ferry their troops to shore.” She glanced up at her brother. “Even if the shadows don’t hold completely, we can still make it too costly for them to land. But if they do somehow make landfall—”
“Then we fight them here,” Loren said. “I know we don’t have the soldiers. But the civilians—will they fight?”
“They will.” Eloria straightened, pride flashing in her eyes. “This is their home. Anyone who can lift a weapon will defend it.”
Araya’s stomach twisted. Half-starved civilians, pitted against trained New Dominion soldiers? It would be a slaughter.
“What about the children?” she asked. “The New Dominion will take any fae child it can get its hands on. Even if we win the battle, they could take dozens.. You’ll never get them back once they enter the reeducation camps.”
“What would you suggest?” Eloria asked, though there was no challenge in her tone—only genuine curiosity.
“They should be evacuated,” Araya said without hesitation.
“To where?” Cormac demanded. “We don’t have the numbers to escort them all the way to Ithralis. Not without pulling critical fighters from the front.”
“You wouldn’t need to take them that far.” Araya leaned forward, tapping the map with one finger. “The temple’s closer. The doors were destroyed, but the crypt is still intact—”
“The temple is a place of worship, not a military outpost,” the High Luminary snapped. “That crypt was never meant to shelter the living—”
“It’s warded against anyone who might mean the royal family harm,” Loren said.
His arm wrapped around her waist as he glanced down at her.
“You need a member of the royal line—or a sworn acolyte dedicated to the Goddess—to open it. I’m hard-pressed to think of a safer place on this island for the children if the New Dominion makes it ashore. ”
“And who will go with them?” another advisor asked. “If you’re suggesting sending them alone—”
“I’ll go,” Araya said, cutting him off before the doubt could gain ground. “Someone will need to organize the children and help pull the wagons—I can do that.”
A flicker of surprise passed over a few faces, but Eryn nodded thoughtfully.
“There are others who would be of more use there.” He shuffled the documents spread out in front of him. “Mothers with infants, elders old to fight—and those whose magic is better suited to subterfuge than open combat, like myself.”
Araya glanced over at Loren as the councilors murmured amongst themselves. He stared down at the maps in front of them, his jaw set and tension humming through their bond. He didn’t want her to go. Didn’t want them to be separated—again—when they’d only just found each other.
And she didn’t want to leave him.
But she couldn’t forget the way the rough wood bit into her back, human hands pinning her down. The searing bite of the iron needle. How they’d laughed when she screamed for help.
“Do it,” he said finally, turning to look down the table at his steward.
“Get them whatever they need—wagons, food, supplies. Whatever it takes to keep them safe.” He stood, sweeping his gaze across the rest of them.
“There’s nothing left to debate. Everyone knows what they need to do.
Every moment that passes is another moment closer to their arrival. ”
Araya stared down at the table as chairs scraped, councilors talking amongst themselves as they hurried from the room. There were no more protests, no objections—there wasn’t any time left.
“I can’t stomach how they treated you,” Loren said when they were finally alone again.
“They have every right to doubt me,” Araya said, tracing the tiny rune inked at the base of her thumb.
“No,” he said snapped. “They don’t.”
Araya looked up at his tone, frowning at the wild glint in his eyes. “You can’t let the shadows devour anyone who speaks unkindly to me, Loren. You’re their king.”
“I was hoping I’d only have to let them devour the first one and word would spread,” Loren muttered, and despite everything, the corner of her mouth twitched.
He reached for her.
The second his hands touched her waist, Araya folded into him, burying her face in his chest. He smelled like rain and cold stone and her, the realization lighting a warm fire in her chest.
“You understand, don’t you?” she whispered. “I can’t let them take children, Loren. I can’t. And if I’m not here, Jaxon might retreat to minimize the damage—”
“I know,” he murmured, brushing his mouth across her temple.
“I’m not arguing, ael’sura. I’m proud of you.
Proud that you thought of the smallest and weakest among us and made a plan to keep them safe.
I just… hate that I have to let you go. And at the same time I feel selfish for sending my mate to safety while asking others to stay. And the idea of trusting you to Eryn—”
“He’s been your sister’s spymaster for years.” Araya pulled back, frowning. “And he helped me before. Do you really think we can’t trust him?”
“Eloria trusts him,” Loren admitted, grimacing. “And it’s a logical move to send him with you. But all I can think about is you not coming back—”
His voice broke, the ache bleeding through the bond shattering something in her chest. Araya rose up on her toes, brushing her lips against his. Loren sank into her, his hands framing her face like she was the only place he could still breathe.
“There’s only one thing that could stop me from coming back to you,” Araya said when they came up for air, turning her head to press a kiss to his palm. The shadows curled around them both, enveloping them in velvety darkness. “And even then, I’d try.”