Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
P andemonium erupted as the manor’s walls shook violently. The music died with a screech, drowned by screams and the distant roar of celestials. Dawson’s grip tightened around Alaire, worry etched into the lines of his face. He glanced toward the windows as waves of fae poured into the ballroom.
“The manor is under attack,” Dawson said, urgency bleeding through his voice. “I have to go.”
“I’m coming.”
His eyes snapped to hers amid the chaos, panic flashing across his face. “No. You need to stay here.”
“To do what? Hide?” Alaire broke their contact, hands on her hips. “I can help, Dawson. You know I can fight.”
She needed him to understand one thing: she would never be the type of person to sit on the sidelines. Not when there was a battle to fight. Not when she could do something.
“Fine. Find Kaia and Caius. They’ll figure out how you can help.”
Dawson stared into her eyes for endless moments they didn’t have. His hand threaded through her hair before he released her, patting down his suit pockets for weapons. But he was a weapon himself, honed and ready to strike.
“Stay safe,” he commanded, eyes never leaving hers. “I trust you can handle yourself. Don’t take unnecessary risks. You’re much too valuable, mean too much… And if you need me?—”
“Go.” She squeezed his forearm, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. “They need you.”
“ I need you.” He brushed a tender kiss across her forehead. With one last lingering look, Dawson sprinted toward the fray.
He was swallowed by the chaos in seconds. Panic clawed at her throat. She wanted to pull him back, to tell him that somewhere along the way she had come to need him too—needed him whole, needed him to know that losing him would shatter pieces of her she’d spent years rebuilding.
But the battle wouldn’t wait, and neither could she.
Reaching for her breathbind reliquary, cleverly stitched into her dress, she took two inhalations before spurring into motion.
Frigid mist cloaked the view from the towering arched windows, cutting off any sense of what was happening beyond the glass. Inside, rows of fae lined themselves in battle formation against the fog seeping under the doors.
Whatever it was, it was coming.
And her phoenix was out there.
“ Solflara ,” Alaire called down the bond. “ Where are you ? Are you okay ?”
Silence. Dread pressed heavily against her ribs. Her heart hammered as panic fed her imagination—images of Solflara bleeding, injured, broken. She rubbed a hand over her chest, desperate to shake off the suffocating silence.
“ Solflara !” Alaire shouted. “ Are you hurt ?”
“ Darkness is here .”
The words sent a shiver down her spine. “ What can you see ?”
“ Evil .”
Streams of flame cut through the shrouds of mist, masking what was happening outside. Relief sagged her shoulders. Solflara was alive.
“ Don’t scare me like that .”
“ Been a little ”—she screeched—“ busy .”
“ What is it ? What’s happening ?”
“ Umbra’s wraiths . Shadow creatures from the underworld that bind victims with spectral chains , forcing them to relive their worst memories and fears on an endless , torturous loop .
Light , mind , and fire-based magic are our best weapons against them.
It’s been a long while since they’ve appeared, not since the vampire attacks on Starfall . ”
“ And , of course , I can wield none right now .”
“ Well , we know you have magic . Somewhere . Probably . Hopefully .”
“ Still not helping . You need to stay outside to prevent as many wraiths as possible from passing through .”
“ My duty is to protect you .”
“ No , Solflara .” Alaire’s voice was firm. “ You can protect those people better than anyone else . I’ll be a hindrance , but I can quickly relay your instructions . Teamwork makes the dream work , remember ?”
“ What is it with mortals and their horrible catchphrases ?” Alaire could practically hear her phoenix clucking her tongue. “ Stay out of the way , and whatever you do , do not let a wraith touch you . A single touch could be deadly .”
“ Keep an eye on Dawson for me , Solf .”
“ The prince is fine . He’s helping Premiere Lords , Ladies , and high generals develop a strategy .”
Before she could ask more, several fireballs arced into the air and crashed to the ground. High-pitched shrieks rang out as glass shattered. Alaire curled into a ball, shielding her head with her arms.
When the sounds of splintering glass subsided, she rose slowly, taking in the chaos around her. Blood dotted her forearms where shards had cut her skin. The screech of metal shredding throbbed in her ears.
Elemental fae had assembled in rows facing the windows. At the helm stood Max Aster, barking orders at the defensive line.
“Lord Aster,” she called, approaching. The group turned, expressions shifting from surprise to skepticism as she neared. Max’s eyes narrowed, but he gestured for her to speak.
“Solflara, my phoenix, will remain outside to fight Umbra’s wraiths,” she stated. “If you need to communicate anything to her quickly, find me. I’ll be helping with evacuations.”
Max exchanged a glance with a bald fae in combat leathers, heavily armed, before nodding curtly. “The other celestials have already joined Solflara in protecting the crowd,” he replied, grudgingly respectful. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
Alaire backed away, craning her head in search of Kaia and Archer. She’d lost them in the fray.
As she skirted the perimeter, a prickling sensation crawled along her skull.
Shadows seeped beneath the doors, lengthening and coalescing into dark, menacing forms. Like the bloodravagers, their eyes burned crimson, faces obscured by hoods.
They floated above the floor, tattered cloaks billowing in a nonexistent breeze.
Most frightening of all, they moved in utter silence.
Her stomach twisted at the sight. Spectral chains of shadow wrapped around several fae’s limbs. They didn’t fight; they crumpled to the floor, clutching their heads as they wailed and wailed and wailed.
A flaming arrow whistled past her ear, striking one of the wraiths square in the chest. Its eyes blazed before it erupted into smoke. Solflara had been right.
Anarchy followed the wraith’s defeat. Fae from every house launched themselves into the offensive. Those at the rear released flaming arrows lit by House Arculum’s lightning to keep the wraiths from advancing.
With no magic and Solflara defending outside, Alaire unsheathed her twin daggers she’d hidden beneath her dress.
More than ever, she was angry at her magic for ignoring her pleas—especially when it could’ve helped prevent innocent bloodshed.
Mist thickened, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Arms suddenly gripped her ribs, and she pivoted with both daggers raised, poised to slash—until she heard a familiar voice.
“Alaire, it’s just us!”
She exhaled, recognizing Kaia. “I’ve been trying to find you both. Are you okay?”
“Fine, fine.” Lightning flickered between Kaia’s thumb and forefinger. “It was you we were worried about. What are these things? Hadrian’s never seen anything like them.”
“Aleisia could only tell us they prey on your worst nightmares,” Archer called from somewhere in the haze. The mist completely shrouded him.
“They’re Umbra’s wraiths, creatures usually trapped in the underworld. Last time they appeared was Starfall, according to Solflara. No idea why they’re here now…”
“Gods, that’s horrible. We’ve been trying to get people out of here,” Kaia explained.
“I want to help.”
“This way—” Kaia stopped mid-step.
The mist around Archer thinned. A wraith, tall and menacing, stood before him. Haunting cries of pain and terror rose behind it.
Archer raised his hands and conjured multiple versions of himself that fanned out in all directions, meant to confuse the wraith. Its head swiveled, uncertain, before lashing its chains through one illusion, then another, unable to find its true target.
While it was distracted, Archer projected a high-pitched sound into its mind. The creature staggered, clawing at its hooded head.
Like the one before it, this wraith collapsed into smoke. Alaire rushed across the scattered debris to reach Archer, checking that he was unhurt.
“Alaire! Archer!” Kaia shouted from the far end of the room. “We need to get these people out!”
She stood over a group of humans cowering behind a pillar, flanked by a pair of fae, all desperately trying to hide from Umbra’s wraiths.
“Hadrian will meet us. We’ll get as many to safety as possible,” Kaia said.
“Aleisia will help too,” Archer added.
“ Solf , can you hear me ?”
“ Yes .”
“ A group of humans is trapped near the rear of the ballroom and can’t make it to safety .”
“ Fear and terror fuel them . They cannot remain together . Groups emitting fear are beacons for wraiths .”
“C an you create a diversion to hold their attention ? We need to get them out .”
“ On it .”
The ballroom lit with splashes of orange and pink.
When Alaire reached Kaia, the humans turned toward her, eyes wide, mouths gaping.
“Didn’t recognize you earlier in the confusion. But the rumors are true. Hear a lot doing this job, but never thought I’d see it—a halfling royal.”
Alaire raised her hand, silencing the murmurs. “Everyone, I need your attention. We have to move now. Archer and Kaia will escort you to safety. Stay close and do exactly as they say.”
The group pushed a few gangly teenagers forward; one hid behind long bangs, while the other two were skeletal with protruding cheekbones.
Haggard circles under their eyes and gaunt features reminded her how fortunate she was at Aeris Academy, with three meals a day. The sight split her heart wide open.
It had been months since she’d seen another human. She hadn’t expected the serving staff at the Celestial Cascade Ball to be so young. But a job meant getting paid. Getting paid meant food on the table. They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.