Xander’s hands flew to his waist, checking to ensure his blades were where they were supposed to be, while Auraelia scrambled across the room to grab her own.
The tent flaps were thrown wide as Piper—red-faced with panic shining in her eyes—came barreling in. “Garnet—” she panted, taking in a ragged breath, “Garnet has breached the edge of the mountains. They’rehere, Rae. I—I don’t know how I missed it.”
Auraelia’s eyes widened, time seeming to freeze around her as Piper’s words sank into her stomach. It was too soon. Too early in the day. Unless…
Fucking, Caius.
Snatching her blade from the sideboard, she slid it into the sheath down her back before grabbing the other from where it was still nestled in its case. Her magic surged to the surface like a tidal wave as rage filled her veins, determination settling in her bones.
“Rae,” Xander’s tone was curt, jarring her out of her thoughts.
When she met her friend’s gaze, the color in her skin bled away, and she quickly crossed the room to frame her face with her hands. “Piper, stay here and collect yourself. I need you focused out there.” When she nodded, Auraelia rested her brow on Piper’s and whispered, “You do not break. You survive this, do you hear me? No matter what happens to me, youlive.”
Piper jerked her head away, her eyes narrowing as anger swirled in their depths. “Rae—”
“I mean it, Piper. Live. For both of us, if that’s what Dalia has deemed.”
A lone, angry tear slipped down Piper’s face as she let out a resigned breath and nodded.
Placing a kiss on her friend’s cheek, Auraelia turned toward her brother, eyes hard as she met his gaze. “One minute, Xander. I need you out of this tent in one minute.”
She knew that there would never be enough time for them to say whatever they needed to say to each other. Goddess, she wished she could give them more. But the time for long, sorrowful goodbyes was gone. The war was here, and as she stepped into the sunshine that was a blaring contrast to what the day held, she let the hardened mask of a queen hellbent on avenging her people slip into place.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Auraelia
The early arrival of Garnet’s army had thrown hers into disorganized chaos. Men were filing out of tents, throwing on armor as quickly as they could before strapping on their weapons. Squadron leaders she recognized from earlier in the day and some she didn’t, hollered commands to wrangle people into formation. Archers lined the edge of their camp, firing waves of arrows across the field in an attempt to stave off the impending ambush.
Time.
They needed more time.
Turning toward the field, Auraelia dove into her well of power, wrapping a mental fist around the gold and gray threads that connected her to the storm that raged inside her. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, blotting out the sun as thunder boomedabove them. Closing her eyes, Auraelia took a deep breath, letting the power grow until it threatened to burst from her skin. When she opened them, she let it all go. Agonized screams pierced the air as lightning streams rained across the field, setting the grass ablaze across the line of Garnet soldiers and striking down those unlucky enough to be in the path.
As a chorus of cheers rang out around their camp, she expelled a relief-filled breath. She hadn’t wanted to use her magic—had wanted to let it build until she met Davina on the battlefield—but it would be worth it if it gave them the time they needed.
Her hand fell to the hilt of the sword strapped at her side, but a familiar voice called her name as she took a step toward where her men were filing into formation.
“Auraelia!” Ser Aeron called out again, his voice carrying over the camp, pulling her attention over her shoulder. She could feel the pounding of his horse’s hooves as he rode toward her with Jasira in tow, a canvas bag slung across her saddle. Dismounting before his horse had come to a complete stop, he demanded, “Where the hell do you think you’re going dressed like that?”
Pulling the bag from Jasira’s saddle, he dropped it at her feet, knelt, and began tugging at the drawstrings.
“You’re completely exposed.” Ser Aeron paused his ministrations and looked up from where he’d crouched next to the bag. “I know you want to be out there. To stand with your people. But you wouldn’t last more than five minutes out there without this, power or not.”
Auraelia watched as he began pulling out pieces of armor and glanced down at herself to the cotton and leather that covered her frame, internally wincing at the sheer stupidity of what she had intended to do. No trained warrior would walk out into the middle of a battle without armor.
“Where’s your brother?” Ser Aeron demanded as he pulled the last of the segments from the canvas bag and began strapping the greaves to her shins.
“He’s in the tent with Piper.”
“Xander!” he yelled, thrusting the bracers for her forearms into her hands as he stood. “Put these on. Make sure that they’re tight, but don’t restrict movement.”
Within seconds, her brother was barreling through the tent flaps toward them. His armor was already fastened into place, and his brows furrowed in fierce determination. But a red rim was around his eyes from unshed tears, and the sight gutted her. She hated that this was what their lives had come to. That fate had brought them into this battle, forcing them to deliver goodbyes that may never lead to another hello.
Her heart ached in her chest, and when she turned her gaze away from Xander, she met the hard stare of her Commander General—strength and rage burning in the crystalized amber of his eyes.
While she donned the hardened metal of her soldiers, he was dressed in the traditional garb of the Court of Opal’s warriors, only instead of the ethereal white they were known for, his was dyed the rich green of her court. Seeing him in the colors of Emerald instead of his natural-born court had Auraelia standing a little taller, her head lifting a fraction higher. This was the most revered warrior in all of Ixora, and he’d chosen to representher courton the battlefield.
