Chapter 28
Thorne
I sat slouched in my office chair at Shade Tower, nursing a drink I hadn’t tasted. The burn in my chest wasn’t from the liquor—it was from dread.
The meeting with the king hadn’t gone how I’d hoped.
He’d summoned me just hours ago. Not to advise. Not to confer. Just to remind me who held the power.
Vasquez had already been there when I arrived, looking far too smug for someone still breathing.
“You called, sire?” I asked as I stepped into the king’s chamber, every muscle in my body taut.
“Thorne!” Ashton said warmly, wearing that hollow mask of charm. We all knew what lived beneath it. “Come in. Sit.”
I didn’t move until he gestured again.
“I was just speaking with Vasquez about the girl,” the king said. “We’ve been watching her progress with great interest.”
Vasquez turned his head, smiling like a man who enjoyed breaking things. “I took the liberty of observing her training with Phoenix. Is it true she can now shape shadow into armour? Project force?”
I narrowed my eyes. “When did you watch her?”
He shrugged, smug. “I have my ways.”
I turned my attention to Ashton. “Yes. It’s true. But there’s more beneath the surface. We’re working with her to unlock it—carefully.”
The king and Vasquez exchanged a glance. Something passed between them. Something I didn’t like.
“The recent surge in attacks from my brother has me... concerned,” Ashton said. “And then there are whispers—something is brewing in the north. I’ve called a summit. I want Elira at my side.”
I stiffened. “Sir—she’s not ready. She’s barely begun to control her power.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t need control. I need spectacle.”
Vasquez stepped forward, all false politeness. “We’ve discussed methods to accelerate her compliance.”
I felt my magic coil in my chest.
“No,” I said flatly.
“The mirror room has... proven useful,” Vasquez continued, his voice syrupy. “It worked wonders for Allison.”
Something snapped in me.
Power surged from my hand before I could stop it. Vasquez flew back, slammed against the far wall, blood pouring from his nose.
“You will not speak her name to me again,” I snarled, locking him down with raw will.
He staggered to his feet, blade half-drawn. “You little punk—”
“Gentlemen,” Ashton sighed, amused. “Not in my presence, thank you. Save your venom for Vael and his monsters.”
I kept the pressure on Vasquez’s mind. He fought back—hard. The room crackled with restrained violence.
“Thorne,” Ashton said quietly.
And I felt it.
The brand on my chest flared—searing and absolute, forcing my body to obey. I let go. Stumbled a step back.
“Excellent,” Ashton said smoothly. “So. The timeline has shifted. I want Elira ready for her mark by the end of the month.”
I froze. “Sire—the mark requires a willing participant. If she resists—”
“You dare explain my own magic to me?” Ashton’s voice dropped to a whisper, more terrifying than a shout.
I swallowed my fury. My pride.
“No, sire.”
“Good,” he said. “She will be marked. And she will be loyal to me—and only me—by the end of the month.”
And now, here I sat alone, wondering how in all Gods names would I be able to convince my little shadow to take the brand.
I had seen what happened to those who refused. I never wanted to see that again.
The biggest problem was, of course, I didn’t want her to be beholden to the king like the rest of us. Although it would make her life easier as a Shade, that fire in her eyes would eventually die out. And she would become just another soldier.
Suddenly, a knock at my door.
I didn’t move. Just stared at the glass in my hand, the warmth long gone, untouched.
The door creaked open.
She stood there—fists clenched, chin high, eyes bright with something fierce and fire-forged.
“Elira,” I said, my voice sharper than I meant. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Leo and Slade?”
“Something came up.” Her voice was tight. “I need your help.”
I leaned back, studied her. “What do you need?”
“A pass,” she said. “Out of the Tower.”
My fingers curled around the glass. “To where?”
“Nowhere dangerous,” she rushed. “Just a few hours. I’ll stay within the city perimeter. I’ll check in. This isn’t a game, Thorne—I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
I set the glass down. Slowly. Deliberately.
“Why?”
She hesitated.
“I can’t tell you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why not?”
“Because I can’t,” she said, more firmly this time. “Please, Thorne. For once, don’t fight me. Let me go. I swear to the gods I’ll come back.”
I almost laughed. Couldn’t help it.
“And I assume,” I said dryly, “you plan to go alone.”
“I need to.”
“So let me get this straight. You want me to hand a free pass to the girl who’s spent the last three months declaring how much she hates it here? No destination. No escort. No explanation.”
“Thorne—”
“No,” I said, the word cutting the air between us like a blade.
She blinked. “What?”
“I said no.”
She stepped closer. “You don’t even know why I’m asking.”
“I don’t care why.”
Her jaw tightened. “Are you serious right now?”
“As a heart attack,” I said, rising from my chair. “You’ve barely been here three months. Second years don’t even get passes until the end of the year.”
“I’m not trying to escape!” she snapped. “If I was, why the hell would I come to you?”
“Because you think you can manipulate me like you do the others?” I said tightly. “I’m not Leo, princess. You can’t just bat your eyes at me and get your way. The rules are in place for a reason.”
She reeled back like I’d struck her. “Unbelievable.”
“Elira—”
“You know what?” she interrupted, voice shaking. “I have done everything you’ve asked. I haven’t tried to escape, I haven’t hurt anyone, I’ve swallowed every rule you’ve thrown at me—and now, when I ask for one thing, you decide you don’t trust me?”
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
And that silence—just one heartbeat too long—was all she needed.
Her expression changed. The fury drained into something colder.
“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Elira—”
“You think I’ll run.”
I swallowed. “I know you want to. And I know you are pig-headed enough to try.”
“You don’t know anything,” she snapped, voice edged like a blade.
“I know the king is watching you,” I said tightly. “I know you’re nowhere near ready to work in the field alone.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I was in the field alone most of my life, jackass. I survived longer than most of your trainees would last out there.”
“Survived?” I scoffed. “You mean starving? Stealing? Constantly looking over your shoulder?”
“Oh, so what now—you saved me?” she hissed. “My fucking hero, Thorne?”
“Elira—”
“No, let me finish.” Her voice broke—but it didn’t soften. “I was actually starting to think I was wrong about you Shades. That maybe... maybe you were different.”
She shook her head, jaw clenched like she was holding back something sharp and dangerous.
“I thought there was something in you,” she said, voice tight, trembling with held-back hurt, “something buried under all that brooding and bullshit—that might actually care about me.”
I didn’t breathe.
Just stood there, frozen, heart pounding against the inside of my ribs like it wanted to speak for me—but I said nothing.
“But you don’t,” she continued, softer now. “You never did.”
“Elira—” I tried, but it was already too late.
“No.” She turned, hand on the door. “Message received. Loud and clear.”
I exhaled—slow, sharp, controlled.
“If you leave without clearance,” I said quietly, “If you walk out without clearance,” I said low, “I will find you. And I will shut you down. You hear me?”
She turned back one last time, eyes burning with something deeper than fury.
“Fuck you, Thorne.”
And then she was gone.