Chapter 18 Kai
Kai
The door shut as I crossed the room in two long strides. Ashren stayed braced against the doorframe as if he needed the support. The sight felt like a punch in the gut. It had been years since I had seen him so unsettled.
“What is it?” I stopped in front of him. “What is this New Night?”
His gaze flicked past me to Hannah and Thea before returning to me.
His jaw tightened. “It’s a ritual. An old one.
Older than the courts as we know them. Before the divisions and the balance was stabilized.
” He drew in a slow breath. “I didn’t think it was possible.
Magic like this was supposed to have been erased. ”
My shoulders went rigid. There was a reason such things had been buried.
“A ritual that creates something called the New Night?” Hannah’s strained voice came from behind me. I could sense her shifting her stance from the faint scrape of her heel against the floor.
“What kind of ritual?” Thea moved closer to Ashren, one hand brushing his arm.
Ashren’s expression hardened. “A final one. An elimination. A reset.”
Tension locked my frame as the implications settled into place.
“Of all the courts but one.” The words came measured, controlled.
I had seen Bram’s ambition long before others had chosen to acknowledge it.
I had recognized the first fracture when my uncle had not.
But even I had not believed he would go this far.
Ashren inclined his head. “Destroyed. Every court undone, their magic stripped and drawn back into a single source. The world rebuilt around what remains.”
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.
“That’s not possible!” Thea took a step back. “Fate would never allow it.”
My attention didn’t leave Ashren. “All this time, I believed Bram intended to awaken the Aurora Court and bind them to him.” The truth reshaped itself in my mind, and my mouth went dry.
“It made sense that he would harvest power, weaken them individually.” My fingers tightened.
“This isn’t a conquest. This is eradication. ”
Ashren didn’t argue. He didn’t need to.
“Does he need to destroy every opposing fae?” Thea’s voice was quiet, edged with something close to fear.
“Not necessarily.” Ashren ran a hand through his hair.
“He only needs to destroy the heart of each court. The central seat of its power.” His gaze darkened.
“The Day Court has already fallen, its heart destroyed.
The Aurora Court was next, but its protections have held, and those within are not considered alive for the purposes of this spell.
The Day and Aurora Courts sealed it together before the collapse.
Those sacrifices—the disappearing Aurora Fae—their blood was keeping the ritual satisfied and buying Bram time until he could finish it.
He can count the Aurora Court destroyed if he kills every living Aurora Fae outside of the Aurora Court's enchantment, and then its heart will die too.”
My hand dragged over my face, the calluses rough against my skin, while the pieces fell into place. The Blood Basin. The disappearances. Every report we had dismissed as an anomaly now aligned into something horrendous.
And now… Hannah. Something dark coursed through my veins.
“No one has entered the Aurora Court since it was sealed,” Ashren continued. “And if Hannah is the last—”
My gaze found her immediately.
She stood several paces away, shoulders back and one hand pressed to her chest as though that was the only way she could hold herself together. Her breathing had gone shallow and her eyes wide.
I would do whatever it took to protect her. Kill anyone who even posed a threat to her.
I would need the lorn leaf soon. The pull toward her was strengthening, fraying the edges of my control, but that no longer mattered the way it had moments ago. This was no longer about restraint.
This was about survival.
And I would tear apart every court in existence before I allowed her to be used in Bram’s ritual.
Ashren had said the last, and the words settled, heavy and cold.
I gave no outward reaction. Not to the spike of anger or the tightening pull in my chest despite the realization gutting me.
Bram’s success or failure rested on her continued survival.
One life standing between him and the absorption of an entire court’s magic… and worse, I’d once called him friend.
Ashren leaned against the wall. “Our men are still working the prisoners, but I doubt they know much more than what we’ve already uncovered. We need to enter the Aurora Court as quickly as possible and wake them.”
His tone shifted toward strategy. “Our best opportunity will be during the third night of the full moon, when the lunar phase begins to wane. The protections were forged with both Aurora and Day Court magic. That will be when the protective spell will be at its weakest.”
“Three weeks.” I turned toward the window and crossed my arms. My reflection stared back at me, faint and shadowed, while movement behind me caught in the glass. Hannah fidgeting. Thea moving closer to her.
I wanted to take Hannah into my arms and hide her somewhere safe, but that would be pointless. That damn woman loved getting herself into trouble. “Bram has made two attempts to capture Hannah within a single month. He will not stop.”
The pull in my chest tightened, but I knew better than to act on it. Hannah wouldn’t react if she felt I wanted to protect her. “The rupture in the sun,” I said, forcing my focus back to the matter at hand. “It is tied to this.”
“Yes,” Ashren replied. “The blood of the Aurora Fae has been delaying it, but the ritual cannot remain incomplete indefinitely. It must either resolve or collapse. If it lingers in this state much longer…” He sucked in a breath. “The realm will not survive.”
Of course it wouldn’t. Magic of that magnitude didn’t linger without consequence. It either completed its purpose or consumed everything in its path. “How long do we have?”
“We don’t know.” Ashren’s words echoed in the quiet room.
No, we would not be given the luxury of certainty. “Then we monitor the rupture. Track any changes in its expansion, its intensity, its behavior. If it accelerates, we move sooner.”
Ashren inclined his head. “We will need to attempt the ritual needed to gain access to the Aurora Court.”
“We’re still missing components.” Dammit. Every time we learned something, we ran into another complication. “But we can gather what remains within the three-week window. If necessary, we make substitutions.”
Ashren lifted a hand. “At this point, we have to assume we will not find a clavis. Every enchanted blade tied to the Aurora Court is already within its borders. There is no one left with the connection required to summon them.”
Of course there wasn’t. Every method we had pursued to obtain one had ended in failure. Every attempt to access the court had been blocked. That left us with one option.
We would try again. And this time, failure would not be survivable.
My thoughts shifted despite myself.
Hannah.
Her presence here. Her blood. Her connection. Perhaps she was the key we had been missing. Or perhaps Fate had simply placed her in the worst possible position.
At the corner of my vision, I could see that she’d become pale.
The bond between us pulsed like an exposed nerve.
Three weeks. Three weeks of keeping her alive while Bram hunted.
Three weeks of resisting the pull that demanded I claim her, protect her, and bind her to me in a way that would make separation impossible.
And if I failed—
I found myself braced against the stone windowsill before I registered moving. Cold bit into my palms, grounding me, and my grip tightened until my knuckles blanched. I forced my breathing to steady as pressure built beneath my ribs.
Control. I had to regain control.
I dragged in a slow breath through my nose, staring at the frost beginning to trace along the edges of the glass, forcing everything into order.
Emotion wouldn’t serve me here. “Ashren, continue the interrogations and increase the guard rotation. No one enters or leaves without clearance. Redirect the gatherers, and ensure we have every component necessary for the ritual within the three-week window.”
I pivoted to Thea. “Do you have the final roll call of the castle staff and guards?”
“It is nearly complete,” she answered, her tone calm. “Several had already requested leave on the night Hannah was taken. We are verifying their whereabouts. Three have not yet returned.”
That wasn’t good enough. “Prioritize it. If there is a breach within these walls, I want it identified and eliminated immediately.”
My anger simmered, fed by the knowledge of how close I had already come to losing her. Another wave of emotion followed, more volatile, pressing against the control I had forced into place.
I needed the lorn leaf.
Without it, every reaction cut too deep. The fear, the fury, the relentless pull toward Hannah. They all suffocated me, threatening to fracture the control I had spent years mastering.
I pressed my fingertips briefly to my brow, forcing all emotion back down. “We will speak later, Hannah.” I didn’t turn, or I’d do something foolish. Something I couldn’t afford. Her reflection in the glass was enough. “You have my word.”
The bond pulsed again, stronger this time. “Until then, you will not leave this castle without my express permission. You’ll not go anywhere alone. Additional wards will be placed on your chambers and the library.”
Cloth rustled behind me, and I sensed Hannah stepping closer though she didn’t touch me. Of course, she’d argue.
She exhaled. “If I can help, I want to help. I don’t plan on just sitting on my ass in my room while the world gets ready to end. Anything I can do…just tell me.” Her voice wavered at the end, like she had forced the rest of her request to remain steady.
“If there is anything you can do, you will be informed.” The words came out harsher and colder than intended, but I refused to turn. I couldn’t afford to look at her right now. Not when every instinct I possessed was straining toward her.
I winced. I knew better than to do that.
“Informed.” Frost threaded her tone. “Right. Because that’s been working out so well. Are you going to inform me how I can help when we talk, or will you send a servant to let me know when I’m allowed?”
My grip on the windowsill tightened, the stone biting into my palms as the pull in my chest sharpened into something close to pain.
“I’ll come to you when it is time to speak.
” I needed distance from her before I did something I’d regret.
“And if there is more you can do, I will ensure you know.” The frost spread across the glass.
“I have matters that require my attention, and I require privacy.”
Thea cleared her throat. “Hannah, you can help me finish going over the roster. There are a few people whose whereabouts we need to confirm.”
The hairs of my neck rose from the weight of her gaze on my back.
She huffed. “Fine. Let’s go, Thea.”
Their footsteps crossed the room, followed by the soft creak of the door opening. I didn’t move until it shut behind them, the sound echoing faintly through the chamber and leaving me more alone than I’d ever felt before.
Ashren hadn’t followed.
When I lifted my head, his reflection met mine in the glass, his arms crossed and his expression carefully neutral in that particular way that meant he was choosing his words.
“Unless you have vital information I have yet to hear, I am not interested in discussing this further,” I said, my tone flat, final.
“Kai.” His voice softened, and that alone grated against my control. “You’re barely holding yourself together. I can see it. The bond—”
“Is none of your concern.” I cut him off and yanked open my desk drawer with more force than necessary. The small glass vial of dried leaves rested among correspondence and sealed documents, and I closed my fingers around it.
Ashren went quiet. After a moment, he left, leaving me alone at last.
Silence settled in, thick and absolute.
I crossed to the sideboard and reached for a glass, then one of the bottles of frost gin.
The motion was steady, despite the pressure building beneath my ribs.
Since the fated mate bond had snapped into place, my control had been fraying in ways I couldn’t tolerate.
Every instinct clawed for dominance, demanding I act, demanding I claim, demanding I protect in a way that left no room for restraint.
I poured the clear liquor, which caught the dim light as it filled the glass. Then I set the bottle aside and uncorked the vial. The lorn leaf extract gleamed an unpleasant dull green.
The pull in my chest tightened again, insistent.
I ignored it.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her see me like that earlier.
I had already taken some when we returned, after she’d refused to speak with me, but it hadn’t been enough.
Not with everything pressing in from all sides, and not with her standing in the same room, close enough to touch and yet entirely out of reach.
This situation left no room for indulgence. No room for weakness.
Not when every instinct in me demanded I pull her into my arms, tell her the truth, and bind her to me in a way that would ensure no one could ever take her from me again.
I had hurt her. That much was obvious. But I would correct it. I would explain, once the timing no longer threatened everything else we were trying to hold together.
I tipped the vial back and swallowed the lorn leaf, forcing it down despite the bitter, foul taste that followed. The burn traced a slow path down my throat and settled in my stomach like a cold ember.
For a moment, nothing changed, but then the edges dulled.
The intensity of the bond softened first, releasing me from the relentless pull so I could breathe without feeling like I was being dragged apart. The flood of emotion receded next, not gone, but distant, muted, contained.
Better. Not enough. It would never be enough. But it was manageable.
I set the empty vial aside, letting the numbness settle into place as I straightened.
I had to make this right with her.