Chapter 43
Elira
Where were the people?
It felt like something I should know. I was standing in the centre of the pit—face to face with the man who haunted every shadow in my mind—and yet the stands were silent.
Empty.
Where did they go?
My shadows had risen in the chaos, building themselves into a wall—opaque, dense, impenetrable. They towered around us now like the walls of an arena within the arena. I couldn’t see Leo. Couldn’t hear Slade. But I knew they were there. They had to be.
The dark had swallowed everything.
Everything but him.
Vael stood across from me, wrapped in flickering electricity. It danced across his shoulders, down his arms, crackling at his fingertips like he was wearing the storm itself. His skin was pale—too pale—like moonlight stretched thin over something ancient and cold.
“You’ve gotten powerful,” he murmured, his voice rich and too familiar. It slithered down my spine like a memory I hadn’t wanted back.
“I know who you are,” I whispered. My breath shook. “I remember you.”
He tilted his head, amused. “Do you?”
I didn’t answer.
Because yes—I remembered.
Not everything. Not every wound or whisper. But I remembered the way the walls closed in when I cried. I remembered the weight of chains that never let me sleep. I remembered the feel of his hands too close, too invasive.
Vael took a step forward.
The lightning crackled louder now, lifting strands of his white hair as if the air itself feared him.
“I waited for you,” he said, almost tender. “Year after year, kingdom after kingdom. Do you know what it’s like to lose something sacred? Something yours?”
“You never owned me,” I spat.
He smiled like a man hearing a child lie. “You always said that. Even when you were bleeding.” His gaze raked me—soft, reverent, possessive. “But I knew better. I still do.”
My shadows twitched.
“Step back,” I warned, voice low and sharp.
He didn’t.
“I loved you,” he said. “Before you had a name. Before you had power. You were mine, Elira. Before the world knew what you were. Before you knew.”
“Then why do I only remember pain?” I said.
That made him pause. Briefly. Almost thoughtfully.
“Because love... real love...” he murmured, taking another step, “is pain.”
The air around him split open with lightning.
I was blasted back.
The crack of lightning hit me square in the chest, and for a breathless second, all I knew was light and pain. My body shattered through stone, the wall exploding around me in a burst of rubble and ash.
My shadows surged on instinct, catching me mid-flight—slowing the impact—but not enough.
I hit the dirt hard, the breath punched from my lungs as I skidded across the alley outside the arena. The world tilted, my ears ringing. Smoke curled around me. My bones ached like they’d been cracked open.
Inside the wall—through the ragged hole—Vael stepped into view.
He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to.
Electricity crawled across his skin like living thread, lighting him from the inside. He looked like a god carved from lightning and shadow.
“Still think you can fight me?” he asked, voice calm. Mocking.
I forced myself up, coughing, blood warm in my mouth. My shadows swirled around me, black tendrils whipping through the smoke like they were ready to tear the sky apart.
I lifted my chin. Spat blood in the dirt.
“I don’t think I can fight you,” I said, voice shaking. “I know I can.”
The shadows met lightning mid-air—an explosion of darkness and light that cracked the sky like thunder. The sound was deafening. The force rippled outwards, slamming through the alley, shattering windows and splitting stone.
I ran straight into the chaos.
Vael’s shape blurred behind the storm, flickering in and out of focus as my shadows clawed at him. They shrieked like wounded animals, tearing into the static, hungry to rip him apart.
But his power wasn’t passive.
The lightning surged, forming a jagged spear that shot from his hand like a javelin. I barely dodged. The bolt scraped my ribs, tearing through cloth and searing flesh. I cried out, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t stop.
“You’re still afraid of me,” he said, stepping through the fire and smoke like a god walking the wreckage of a dream.
“I’m not afraid,” I lied.
He raised a hand. Another arc of lightning cracked toward me—but this time, my shadows caught it. They wrapped around the bolt like tendrils of night, devouring the energy, drinking it down like something sweet.
Vael faltered.
He hadn’t expected that.
Good.
“You’re not the little girl I raised,” he said, almost admiring. “You’ve grown teeth.”
“I’ve always had them,” I snapped. “You just weren’t looking,”
He moved fast—too fast. One moment he was distant, the next he was in front of me, hand closing around my throat. My shadows surged, but not in time.
“You never should’ve left me,” he whispered, voice dangerously soft. “We were supposed to end the world, Elira. Together.”
My fingers clawed at his arm. My power coiled at the edges of my vision, screaming for release.
“We still might,” I hissed.
Then I drove a shadow spike straight through his shoulder.
He roared, staggering back. The hold on my throat loosened and I dropped, coughing, shadows wrapping around me protectively.
This wasn’t just a battle.
It was a reckoning.
Lightning exploded from him in retaliation.
A blinding, blistering arc of power slammed into me before I could recover.
My body flew through the air, smashed into a wall, and cracked it down the middle.
The breath was torn from me as I crumpled to the dirt, blood pouring from my mouth, my side screaming with pain.
Bones. Bruised. Maybe broken. I couldn’t tell.
Everything hurt.
But I looked up. I had to.
Vael appeared like a nightmare dressed in pale skin and burning light.
“Elira, Elira,” he crooned, voice almost tender, “why must you keep fighting me?”
He tilted his head, inspecting the spike still lodged in his shoulder with a sigh, as if I’d disappointed him. “I don’t enjoy hurting you, you know. I never did. But you—” his gaze sharpened, “—you never learned any other way.”
“You’ll never have me,” I gasped. My ribs stabbed with each breath. “I’ll die here first.”
He knelt beside me like a lover, not a monster, and brushed blood-matted hair from my face with mock affection.
“You are still so beautiful,” he whispered. “The blood purifies you, my love. Through pain we find devotion. Through suffering, strength. The gods chose us for this. You and me.”
A tear slid down my cheek. Just one. But I let it fall.
“No,” I breathed. “Never. I won’t touch you. I won’t be yours. You disgust me. You always did.”
His expression darkened. The softness snapped.
He grabbed my throat again—faster this time, crueller—and lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing. My feet kicked, scraped against stone, then dangled. I clawed at his hand, but my strength was fading. My lungs burned. Stars bloomed at the edges of my vision.
He slammed me into the wall. My skull cracked against stone. I saw white.
“I’m going to take you home. And we will be married. And then I will fuck you until you bleed.” He leaned in, his lips ghosting the shell of my ear. His breath was warm and wrong and soaked in power.
“You’ll bleed, Elira,” he said, his red eyes devouring me. “And you’re going to love every. Single. Part of it.”
No.
I wanted to scream, but there was no air left to give it sound.
But then—something moved behind him.
A shimmer. A curl of green. A quiet, deadly slither.
The vine.
He didn’t see it. He didn’t even feel it until it wrapped around his neck and yanked.
He choked, stumbling backward in shock.
His grip on me broke—and I fell, coughing and gasping as I collapsed to the ground.
My shadows fell with me, heavy and spent.
From behind him, a voice rang out—fierce, female, and furious:
“Hands off my friend, motherfucker.”
Maddie stepped from the smoke, her eyes blazing. The vine around his throat tightened, glowing with her magic, every thorn biting deep.
She wrenched her hand and the vine whipped Vael back, dragging him from me like a puppet with snapped strings.
Vael hit the ground hard, the vine still constricting, thorns sinking into his pale throat. He snarled, one hand clawing at the magic, the other flickering with static as he tried to tear free.
Maddie stood her ground, both hands raised, sweat glistening at her temples as she poured every drop of power she had into holding him down.
“Elira,” she gasped without looking back, “can you move?”
I tried. My body trembled. My lungs wheezed with every breath, but I pushed one elbow beneath me, then the other.
“I’m trying,” I croaked.
Then—footsteps.
Not panicked. Not rushing. Measured. Heavy. Cold. A shadow moved through the smoke.
And then he appeared.
Thorne.
He stepped through the broken wall like a phantom from the storm—cloak torn, face smeared with blood and ash, his expression carved from stone.
His eyes locked on Vael.
Then on me.
“I’m here.” He said, his voice calm. Certain. “I’ve got you, Elira.”
I’ve got you.
Something inside me stilled.
Just for a moment, the world paused— the screaming, the smoke, even the fire in my lungs faded like an echo behind glass.
There was only him.
And the words I didn’t know I needed until I heard them.
Without a word, he reached to his side, drew the twin obsidian blades from his belt, and walked toward Vael like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.
Vael, still pinned, looked up—face twisted with hatred and… recognition.
“Ah,” he hissed, voice raw. “The good dog returns. Tell me, Thorne, how does it feel being my brother’s resident bitch?”
Thorne didn’t answer. He didn’t flinch. He moved like silence given form—slow and deliberate.
Maddie’s arms trembled. “I can’t hold him much longer—”
“You won’t need to,” Thorne said flatly. He surged forward, blades flashing. “Get out of here, both of you!”
Vael exploded. A pulse of lightning burst outward in all directions—blinding white light that flared through the alley, forcing Maddie to stumble back and sending me sprawling again.
When my vision cleared, Vael was standing.
The vine hung in pieces, smoking where it had burned away. His chest heaved. His hands sparked with fresh bolts of electricity.
“Enough games,” he growled. “You all think you’re strong. But none of you understand what real power is.”
Thorne raised both blades, stance tight and ready. His voice was calm. Controlled.
“Then show me.”
Vael’s lightning flared again—too fast for Maddie to react.
He sent a shock of lightning directly into her.
“No—” I choked out, reaching, too slow, too broken.
With a snarl, Vael spun and hurled her like dead weight. Her body arced through the air and slammed into a pillar, stone cracking on impact. She crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
“MADDIE!”
Pain tore through me—worse than the lightning. I tried to crawl toward her, but my limbs weren’t listening.
Steel met lightning—chaos forged in flesh. Sparks flew as Thorne’s blades slammed into Vael’s storm-wreathed arms. Their movements were a blur—Vael fast, crackling with power, Thorne deadly and silent, every step calculated, every strike meant to kill.
Behind the fight, Phoenix emerged from the rubble—his eyes finding me instantly.
“Elle,” he breathed. He sprinted to me, dropping to his knees. His hands hovered just above my ribs, trembling slightly as he summoned his fire—not to burn, but to heal.
Warmth bloomed through me. I gasped as bones shifted. Firelight flickered under my skin, sealing torn muscle, knitting bruises.
He was giving me everything he had. “Phoenix… don’t… you’ll hurt yourself…”
“Hush up, ok? Stay with me,” he whispered. “You’re alright. I’ve got you. I’ve got you—”
More and more power was poured into me.
“Phoenix, stop! It’s too much! Stop!”
He was visibly shaking, but there was a determination on his face that I couldn’t fight.
Finn walked behind him like a shadow.
“Finn…”
He sent me a watery smile. “I’m ok, Elle. I promise,” he said. He reached behind his back.
“Finn, what are you…”
“Everything will be ok,” Finn said. “I’ll make sure of it,”
Phoenix didn’t see him. He didn’t see the blade high above his back.
I did.
“Phoenix—” I tried to scream, but it came out broken.
Too late.
Finn struck.
A jagged piece of debris—sharpened like a blade—drove into Phoenix’s back with a sickening crunch.
Phoenix arched, breath stolen, the flames in his hands flickering out, faltering …fading.
He slumped forward, choking on a cry. His blood spilled across my chest, warm and awful. He collapsed against me—and for one terrible second, I thought he’d died.
“No— NO!” I shouted, my voice raw with horror as I caught him.
Finn stood over us, shaking—teeth bared, eyes wild, red-rimmed and desperate. Haunted.
“I had to,” he whispered. “He was taking you from me. Don’t you see? I had to, Elle!”
Before I could move, he grabbed me, yanking me up off the ground. My body was still sluggish from Phoenix’s healing—too weak to fight him off.
He dragged me backward, into the smoke, into the dark.
Across the battlefield, I saw them—Leo and Slade, breaking through the chaos. But they didn’t see me.
They saw Thorne.
Leo dropped to his knees beside Maddie, checking for breath, for life. Slade was already fighting—metal blades launching from his hands, slamming into Vael with precision and fury.
I tried to scream. “No! Phoenix! Slade! Leo—!”
But Finn clamped a hand over my mouth.
Too tight. Too much. I couldn’t breathe.
He was suffocating me.
His grip was iron—cruel and possessive—as he dragged me into the darkness.
And no one saw.