Chapter 33
Istride across the humming backstage, my eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The weight of responsibility presses down on me as I pull out my earpiece, tuning into the security team’s frequency. “Report,” I demand curtly, the static crackle in my ear a familiar comfort.
“Secondary team here,” a voice responds, steady and sure. “Alpha team reported the packages were delivered successfully to your intended recipients.”
Not what I was asking, but I’m glad Sheena followed up on my questions from earlier.
A wave of relief washes over me, muscles I hadn’t realized were tensed relaxing slightly.
At least something is going right on this trip.
My gaze flicks to the side where my company’s contracted magic user stands, her hands weaving through the air like she’s conducting an invisible orchestra.
Wisps of incandescent energy spiral out from her fingertips, forming intricate patterns that shimmer with potential.
She was expensive as fuck to bring here last minute, but Revelin can afford it without batting a lash.
“Make sure that perimeter is tight,” I tell her, my voice low. She doesn’t look at me, too engrossed in her work, but a barely perceptible nod acknowledges my command.
“Will do.” Her voice is just above a whisper, but it carries the weight of power. “Remember, Tiernan, this won’t hold back anything particularly nasty. It’s more of an early warning system.”
“I know.” I grit my teeth. We’re not equipped to repel a powerful demon magic creature—not yet. But we can buy time, get everyone out if it comes to that. “It’s worth knowing what’s coming so we can pivot, though.”
“Indeed.”
I walk over to the burly tiger shifter watching the door to the green room where the band is relaxing. “Keep your senses sharp. We have no idea what will happen tonight.”
Tag grunts, shrugging in his usual wordless way, and I move back to the stage.
I’ve seen enough chaos, enough destruction to last lifetimes.
Not tonight. Tonight we play it safe, keep our heads down and hope the spotlight doesn’t attract unwanted guests.
For now, the venue is secure, the hum of anticipation from beyond the curtains a testament to the calm before the storm.
I may not be able to control it, but I can make sure we’re able to ride it out if it comes.
The hum of the venue fades to a distant echo as I pace backstage later on, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against my thigh. The boys, already dressed in their stage gear, are a mixture of nerves and excitement, a contrast to the heavy knot of dread settling in my gut.
“Tiernan, quit wearing out the floor,” Revelin calls out with a half-hearted chuckle, his attempt at lightening the mood falling flat against my mounting concerns.
“Sorry,” I mutter, pausing mid-stride as the costumers sweep past me, their arms laden with fabrics that gleam under the stage lights.
They head for Revelin, draping him in layers of leather and lace, transformative magic in every stitch.
I stand still now, watching them work, aware of the creeping shadows that play at the edge of my vision.
The memories of Arrowwood claw at the forefront of my mind.
I can still picture the chaos, the soundless horror as the skull beast failed to materialize, leaving us to question where the threat might emerge next.
The fear for our mate and the rest of my new family is real, though I’d never say it out loud.
I’m the rock, the one who is always stable, so I can’t let them know how much this disturbs me.
“Are you ready, Tiernan?” one of the costumers asks, drawing me back to the present.
“As I’ll ever be,” I say, stepping forward as they begin to layer my outfit for the evening, a blend of weapon hidey-holes hidden all over the outfit.
As I stow the extra firepower, I grimace. I know all too well that while more weapons will help somewhat, they can’t protect us from everything. Out there, somewhere in Faerie, more than just adoring fans could be biding their time, waiting for a chance to strike.
Many of them won’t be deterred by the small things I can hide on my body, either.
“Stay alert,” I remind Revelin, who nods solemnly, the previous mirth gone from his eyes. He understands the stakes just as much as I do. “I know you get in the zone on stage, but you need to be keyed into us as well. Use the bond.”
“I will,” he replies, his voice steady. “And if I have to, I’ll unleash the things I keep hidden.”
With every thread in place, he looks the part of a fearless performer.
Beneath the surface, I can hear his heart beating a staccato rhythm, echoing the silent warning that danger is never far.
Rarely is the Daybreak Prince as serious as he is right now, and I know it’s hard for him to split his focus.
But we all have to do what’s necessary until we figure out what the hell is going on.
A sudden clack of boots against the concrete heralds their arrival before I even catch sight of the other members of our coven. I’m relieved when Dezi, Khol, and Knuckles sweep into the backstage area like a gust of fresh air, banishing some of the lingering shadows with their sheer presence.
The new outfits cling to them in all the right places, turning heads and drawing low whistles from the crew.
Fiadh’s gown shimmers like an autumn bonfire, Khol’s attire is sharp and calculated, and Dezi.
.. well, Dezi looks like trouble in the best possible way.
Gwennon and her lot outdid themselves in capturing both their personalities, but also matching Revelin’s outrageous style.
“Looking good,” I say, but my voice is tight, betraying the coil of tension winding tighter in my gut.
“Thanks,” Khol replies, his grin easy as he adjusts his sleeves to show off his cuffs. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
“It will be a miracle if we all look just as good by the end of tonight,” I mutter, motioning for him and Dezi to step aside. We huddle close, the din of the venue providing cover for our whispered strategy.
“If things go sideways, I’ve got a route mapped out. Priorities are Revelin and Fiadh—”
“Excuse me?” Our mate’s angry voice cuts through our circle, sharp as a knife. She stands with her hands on her hips, eyes blazing with a fire that could melt steel. “I’m not a porcelain doll, Tiernan.”
Damn her bat-like ears.
“Knuckles—” I start, but Revelin joins her, slipping an arm around her waist.
“She’s right. Besides, this gig might be smoother than we think. Short notice means less time for trouble to brew.”
I bite back a sigh, recognizing the stubborn set of their jaws. This isn’t a battle I’ll win. “Fine. But stay close if the shit hits the fan. I don’t want you out of our sight. It’s too damn distracting when I can’t figure out where you are.”
“Got it. Stick to your ass like those pants,” Fiadh says snarkily as she ogles me for a moment.
Groaning, I rub my hand over my face before I open my mouth to retort. Unfortunately, that’s when the house lights dim.
Revelin chuckles, winking as he heads for the door. “That’s my cue, folks. Lectures will have to wait.”
My fingers twitch as I follow him, watching the Prince lead the charge onto the stage.
From the wings, I can feel the hum of energy radiating off the crowd, the buzz of anticipation that fuels us all.
Everything is going well as they play through the first couple of songs, and I let out a slow breath of relief.
The music swells, notes cascading into the night, and the concert unfolds like a dream.
Against all odds, the pieces click together seamlessly—a symphony of sound and light that captivates every pair of eyes.
Our Fae rockstar’s voice soars over the masses, a siren’s call that holds them rapt.
And then, with a gesture so casual it seems rehearsed, he beckons Fiadh to join him center stage again.
The audience erupts, but amid the cheers, I catch the glower of Amethyst and her cronies from their VIP box. A surge of satisfaction warms me.
Let them seethe in unrequited jealousy.
Fiadh steps into the spotlight with much less hesitation this time.
It’s a testament to her strength, the way she commands the space beside Revelin despite hating every second.
But the Fae prince isn’t done. With a smirk that spells mischief, he calls Khol up to join them.
The basilisk’s reluctance is palpable even from here, but he acquiesces, sliding into place next to Fiadh as Revelin switches gears, the electric guitar swapped for acoustic.
The chords of the new song are raw, intimate, and the sight of the three of them together up there is powerful. It’s a moment of pure, unscripted magic, the kind that can’t be manufactured or anticipated.
For a brief interlude, as the music fills the air, all thoughts of demons and danger fade into the background, eclipsed by the simple joy of the performance.
The last chord reverberates through the sea of bodies, a collective exhale marking the concert’s end. Applause thunders, an avalanche of approval that should bring elation to any performer’s heart. But as I scan my companions’ faces, it’s clear not everyone is basking in the aftershocks of success.
Our girl’s eyes are narrow slits, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack diamonds. Khol stands beside her, every line of his body rigid with barely suppressed ire. They’re like two cornered predators, and I can’t help but think that Revelin’s antics have pushed them one step too close to the edge.
He should have let them leave the stage rather than keeping them there—not quite what I meant, dumbass.
“Encore! Encore!” The crowd’s chant builds, a relentless wave crashing against our brief respite. The audience is insatiable, their cries for Fiadh and Khol to return with the band growing more fervent by the second.
“Damn,” I mutter under my breath, watching their forced smiles as they acknowledge the cheers. “They didn’t sign up for this.”
I feel Dezi’s presence before he speaks, his voice low yet carrying easily over the residual noise. “If Revelin ever dares to do that with me, I swear he’ll rue the day.”
The threat holds weight, coming from Dezi. Yet, despite the gravity, I chuckle, shaking my head as I face him. “Ah, c’mon, you might end up enjoying the spotlight. You’ve got the looks for it.”
The vampire’s unamused huff tells me he isn’t convinced, but his lips twitch, betraying his stoic facade. My laughter fades as I ponder the spectacle we’ve become, wondering how long until the next impromptu performance turns into a headline.
“Revelin’s really digging a hole for himself, isn’t he?” I muse aloud, half to myself. “Personal gestures like these at concerts... they’re going to turn into media goldmines, leak or no leak.”
The thought lingers, a premonition of what’s coming. Revelin’s charm is a double-edged sword, capable of winning hearts and courting chaos with equal ease.
“I hope our prince knows what game he’s playing,” I say, more to the air than to Dezi. “Because if he doesn’t, we’ll be the ones picking up the pieces when the music stops.”
The band rushes backstage, and Revelin tells Jasper and Maeve they aren’t doing any encores here.
That makes Khol and our girl look relieved as fuck, and I watch as the vamp gives off those damn Daddy vibes again by bringing all three of them waters.
He stands there until even the Prince drinks, making his band mates snigger to one another.
Again, it’s not just the Fae prince who can’t stop himself from showing his affection publicly.
Once everyone is ready, I whistle for one of my guys, hitching a ride to the bus for the group.
Even though nothing happened at the venue, I don’t want to walk in the open and invite trouble.
It only takes a few minutes for Tag to get us home, and we pile into the bus, the hum of satisfaction buzzing among us like a live wire.
A collective exhale fills the space as the door swings shut, sealing us away from the lingering echoes of applause and the sharp scent of stage smoke.
“Didn’t think it’d go this smooth,” Khol mutters, pulling off his stage jacket with a fluidity that belies his earlier frustration. Fiadh nods, her eyes scanning each of our faces, searching for signs of the stress we’ve all kept at bay.
“Thanks to Tiernan’s watchful eye,” Revelin says, clapping me on the shoulder as he sinks into an overstuffed seat. I feel the weight of his gratitude, but shrug it off.
“Keeping us safe is my job,” I reply, my gaze fixed on the tinted windows, watching shadows play across the glass. “The perimeter spells were a good call. We had time to react if anything went sideways, but really, we got lucky.”
“Speaking of moving on,” Khol interjects, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “What’s next? We’re done here days early because of those asshats.”
“Amber Hollow is the next stop, but we’re going to hang here for a day at least,” I say without hesitation, unfolding the parchment map with deliberate care.
The inked lines and cryptic symbols sprawl before us, a riddle etched in Henley’s hand.
“The rest of the camp’s heading straight to the capital, but we’ve got shit to do first.”
“Right here,” Dezi points to a spot shaded by a copse of trees sketched near Goldegarde’s border. “Henley’s notes are vague, but if we find the glen, it should lead us to the hidden entrance.”
“A fortress in the hills sounds promising. What do you think’s waiting for us there?” Knuckles says as she leans into the basilisk. She hasn’t even stripped the stupid dress off yet, and the sight of her lounging in shit like that deserves memorializing.
Pulling out my phone, I snap a couple pictures, saving them for when we see the sprite next. The other family will get a kick out of it for sure. Torben won’t believe his eyes and Feray will go bonkers.
“You realize I have no problem stabbing you?” Fiadh growls absently as her fingers trace the map’s edge. “We’ll find answers or traps. That’s pretty much our luck.”
“This time, we won’t be caught off guard,” Khol declares, his jaw set firmly.
I fold the map, tucking it safely inside my jacket pocket. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have the next piece of the puzzle and be on our way to the capital.
At least, I think we will.