Chapter 35
Phoenix
The fire had burned low. The room was cold. That’s what I noticed first.
I jerked awake, a jolt of wrongness shooting through me. My mouth was dry. The book I’d been reading was gone from my chest.
Across the rug, Leo groaned.
“Slade?” I croaked.
He was already moving, staggering from the chair, one hand at his temple. “What the hell…?”
“I don’t know. We must’ve dozed off.” I blinked hard, trying to clear the fog.
“All of us?” Slade asked, voice sharp with disbelief.
Leo sat up like he’d been shot. “Where’s Elira?”
I scanned the room—bed, bathroom, corners. Empty.
“Maybe she left to train,” I said, even though I didn’t believe it.
Slade moved to the table where three glasses sat. He picked one up, sniffed it—then froze.
“Nightshade,” he said quietly.
“What?” Leo lunged forward, dipped a finger in one, held it to the light. A smear of black shimmered.
He turned to me, like I might deny it, undo it.
But I couldn’t.
“No,” he said flatly. “She wouldn’t.”
I was already crossing the room. I flung open the bathroom door. Empty.
Slade swore. “She drugged us.”
“No!” Leo shouted, fists clenched. “I don’t believe you!”
“She did,” I said. Voice low. Gravel and grief. “She’s gone.”
We were already moving when the door slammed open.
Thorne stepped in. Pale. Rigid.
“Where is Elira?” I demanded.
“Gone.” He shut the door behind him. “The king knows, too.”
“What do you mean, gone?” I stepped forward. “Gone where?”
Thorne started pacing, hands in his hair like the motion might hold him together.
“Do you think I wouldn’t tell you if I knew?” he barked. “She’s not here. No note. No trail. She planned it. She’s gone.”
Leo dropped into the nearest chair, face drained. “She wouldn’t just leave us,” he whispered. “She wouldn’t leave me.”
“She did,” Thorne snapped.
I folded my arms. “How do you know she’s not with Maddie? Or out training?”
Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it.
“I’ve checked,” Thorne said tightly. “Every corridor. Every ward. She’s nowhere.”
Slade was suddenly toe-to-toe with him. “Why?”
“What?”
“What did you say to her?”
“Nothing.” Thorne’s answer was too fast. Too thin.
I stepped beside Slade. “That’s not true. I saw you two last night. Something happened.”
Thorne exhaled hard. “She came to me. Said she needed to go into town. I told her no.”
I stared at him. “She came to you? And you shut her down?”
“She’s not ready. It wasn’t safe.”
“She asked for help,” I said, voice cracking. “And you told her no?”
“I was trying to protect her. She hasn’t earned—”
“You said that to her?” Slade cut in, sharp. “That she hasn’t earned the right to leave?”
“What else did you say?” Leo asked, voice deadly quiet.
Thorne twitched. “It got heated. But I stand by it.”
“Thorne—” Leo started.
“When has Elira ever asked for help?” I cut in. “When has she ever trusted someone like that?”
Thorne’s jaw clenched. “Don’t start lecturing me, Phoenix.”
“She came to you. And you pushed her away. Of course she ran!”
Leo let out a broken breath, dropped his head into his hands. “She wouldn’t have left me unless she thought she had to.”
Thorne let out a bitter laugh. “Of course she would. You’re all blind. She’s been looking for a way out since the day she arrived. Now she’s taken it.”
“No,” Leo said softly, shaking his head. “Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after what happened between us.”
Thorne’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her.”
Leo stood. Slow. Deliberate. His whole body was coiled, fists trembling.
“Maybe I have,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”
Then—he shoved him. Hard.
Thorne stumbled back a step, caught off guard.
“Leo—”
“You never tried to understand her,” Leo said, voice like a blade. “You judged her from the moment she arrived. If you’d paid attention, you’d know she’d never betray us.”
Slade stepped in beside him. Calm. Steady. But unmovable.
“She wouldn’t betray any of us,” he said quietly. “That’s not who she is.”
Thorne’s gaze swept across us—dark, unreadable.
“You’re all fools,” he muttered. “Drunk on her pretty blue eyes. She used you. She drugged you. And you’re still standing here defending her.”
“Elira is the best thing that’s happened to this team in years,” I said evenly. “And you know it, even if you’re too proud to admit it.”
Thorne scoffed, ugly and sharp. “So what? You’re all fucking her now? Is that what this is? Does that sound like something that ends well?”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Leo snarled.
Thorne didn’t flinch. “Or what?” he snapped, eyes glinting. “You want to hit me, Leo? Go ahead. Do it. Nothing you throw at me could be worse than what’s coming next.”
“What’s happened?” I asked. “What did the king say?”
He let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. I didn’t miss the slight tremor of his hands as he rubbed his face. “The sentinels have been tasked to go out and find her. He wants her back. Alive - and immediately.”
“And then?”
He hesitated, then dropped his hand from his face. “Then Vasquez takes over. Effective immediately.”
I stepped back. My skin went cold. “No.”
Leo’s voice cracked with fury. “Did you even try to fight that?”
“Of course I did!” Thorne snapped. “But she’s a deserter. What was I supposed to do?”
I looked him dead in the eye. “What’s Vasquez going to do?”
Thorne hesitated. “He plans to put her in the Mirror Room.”
Silence. Then—
“Oh fuck,” I breathed.
“She won’t survive that,” Slade said. His voice was pure frost. “It’ll break her.”
Leo didn’t move for a long moment. Then he spoke—calm and lethal.
“So, we find her first. That’s the only answer.”
“And help her escape,” I added.
Thorne’s expression twisted. “We can’t! the king has ordered us to stand down! We no longer have jurisdiction over her.”
“Are you kidding me? We can’t just leave her to that sadistic bastard Vasquez!”
“These are orders Phoenix! I get that you care. But if you go after her, you’ll be deserters too. You know that, right?”
“I don’t care!” Leo snapped.
“Well, I do!” Thorne shot back. “That brand on your shoulder isn’t just for show. It binds you. The king owns you. We don’t just walk away.”
Leo’s expression hardened into something I’d never seen before. Quiet. Seething. Final.
Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled the knife from his belt. He yanked down his collar, revealing the branded mark seared into his shoulder.
“Fuck the king,” he said, voice razor-sharp.
And then he drove the blade into his own flesh.
“Leo!” I lunged for him. “What the hell are you doing?!”
Blood welled and spilled fast. He didn’t hesitate. His face twisted in pain, but he kept cutting, slicing through the brand with brutal precision.
Thorne turned ghost-white. “Stop—”
Leo roared—an actual roar—and shoved him back with his free hand.
I caught him before he collapsed, my palms already glowing with healing light. “You idiot. Hold still.”
Slade moved beside us and calmly plucked the knife from Leo’s shaking hand.
Leo was pale, bleeding, and barely standing. But his voice was steady when he said, “He doesn’t own me anymore.”
Thorne stared at it like it was an open grave.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he whispered, voice taut.
Leo’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Yeah, I do.”
I watched him closely, then powered up my own palms with my fire. Thorne turned to me, desperation flickering in his eyes. “Phoenix—don’t follow him. Don’t be an idiot.”
I stepped forward slowly, unfastening my cuffs and rolling my sleeve up to the shoulder. “If we wait, Vasquez will take her. If she ends up in that room, she’ll be gone for good.”
“This isn’t just rebellion anymore,” Thorne snapped. “You think carving it out frees you? You think you’re not still marked?”
He looked at Leo, then back to me. “There’s a failsafe. They told me after I got promoted. If one of us goes rogue—if a brand is destroyed—it sends a signal.”
“What kind of signal?” Slade asked, cold and quiet.
Thorne swallowed hard. “If any of us defies the brand—destroys it—every remaining Shade is coded to hunt them. It turns us into trackers. Killers. The moment you burn it, you become prey.”
Leo just laughed bitterly. “Then let them hunt.”
“You think this is loyalty?” I said, voice low. “Elle didn’t run because she was unstable. She ran because we didn’t help her. Because you turned her away.”
Thorne didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
I lifted two fingers, pressed them to my brand, and let the fire rise.
It burned fast. Vicious. I didn’t scream—I refused to. But the pain staggered me, and my knees buckled. Slade caught my arm, steadying me with one hand as smoke curled from my shoulder.
Then Slade let go.
“I’m not using fire,” he said. “Or a knife.”
He extended his palm, fingers spreading wide.
Metal shimmered from his skin, drawn from the traces in the stone around us. It curled and spun, whirling into a thin-edged disc—humming with deadly intent.
“No more brands.”
And without hesitation, Slade pressed the spinning blade into his own shoulder.
The sound of slicing flesh was sharp and clean. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away.
He carved the brand from his skin with exacting control, the blade cutting deep and perfect.
When it was done, he let the metal fall away with a breath, blood running down his arm like a silent oath.
Thorne looked at all three of us like he didn’t recognize us anymore.
“You just signed your death warrants,” he said.
Leo stepped closer, wiping blood from his fingers. “So what? At least we signed them for something that mattered. Can you say the same?”
And for the first time, Thorne didn’t argue.
He just stepped back and let us go.