“A report has never been missed.”
The silence around us seemed to fold inward, as if the very buildings of Alfemir were listening.
“Now I arrive,” the Dominion continued, his gaze sweeping once more across our group, catching each black-feathered wing with deliberate pause, “and I find fallen angels standing openly in the castle of Alfemir.”
The pause that followed wasn’t long, but it felt like it stretched.
“Clearly,” he said, his tone turning sharp, “something is amiss.”
Gabe’s mother flew forward, her wings still flared at her back. Her voice started to rise in reply, clear and level. “With respect, Dominion, this territory is under my?—”
The Dominion lifted one hand.
There was no spell, no chant, no visible channel of energy. Just a shift in the air, a snap of pressure, and a sudden crack of force that struck so fast I almost didn’t see it. Light erupted around her, a blast that shattered the stillness and flung her backward through the air.
Archangel Astor hit the ground hard enough to skid, her wings collapsing beneath her as her body slammed into the stone. A rush of dust kicked up from the impact, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was conscious.
Holy shit.
The Dominion’s voice lashed down a beat later, sharp and unyielding. “Be quiet. You are not in charge. I can sense that.”
The second Astor hit the ground, Gabe was already moving.
He didn’t hesitate. No thought for danger. No pause to consider if the Dominion might strike again. He broke from our group at a full sprint, boots slamming against stone as he dropped to his knees beside his mother. His voice was rough, panicked, words too low to hear clearly as he pressed a hand to her back, checking for breath, for movement—anything. I watched as she shifted slightly, dazed but alive.
Relief rushed through me, sharp and fast, but it was already tangled with something else, because Kieran moved next.
My Fire surged upward without a word, wings snapping wide, power gathering so quickly the wind around her stirred. No one had a chance to reach for her. No one could stop her once she was airborne. Her body cut through the air like a blade, rising toward the Dominion with furious purpose.
And then the sky shifted.
A wall of white wings and armor shot upward from the far side of the courtyard, rising in synchronized motion. Alfemir’s angels—dozens of them—burst into the air in a single sweep, climbing fast to intercept her path. They formed a barrier between her and the Dominion with impossible speed, rows of bodies aligning like a shield across the sky.
I froze.
For a heartbeat, it felt like the entire world did too. None of us could process what we were seeing.
These were the same angels who had stood at the edges of our battles. Who had turned their backs when the Rebellion bled. Who had, until recently, stood in silent agreement with every order the upper triads had ever given.
And now they were standingbetweenus and a Dominion.
Protecting us.
Protectingher.
Kieran stopped midair, caught just short of the line they had formed. The wind still tugged at her hair as eyes scanned their ranks, confusion and disbelief flickering across her features.
One of them nodded to her in respect.
Slowly, she dropped back down to the ground, the wind easing as she landed near us once more. The moment her feet hit the ground, Ronan stepped in close on one side, and I moved in on the other. I didn’t speak, but my hand brushed against the curve of her back—a steadying point of contact. She didn’t look at either of us. Her focus was still skyward, as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.
And then a voice rang out over the castle grounds.
“You are not welcome here if all you want is bloodshed.”
Mithrie’s voice cut clean across the space, strong and deliberate. The Elementalist instructor floated above the others, sparks curling faintly along her arms as she extended one hand toward the Dominion.
“We will protect our own,” she said. “If you’d like to discuss our new leadership and governing laws, then you are welcome to sit with us for a meeting.”
