Light erupted from her hands in blazing hot geometric patterns, each line carving deep into the obsidian floor. The sigil spread outward like liquid fire, racing along the curse channels and burning away centuries of corruption. The Gloam convulsed around them—reality folding inward like a great stone mouth closing.
“Time to go!” she shouted, leaping onto Vaelrik’s massive neck as the cavern began collapsing.
Kyr pulled Tamsin closer to his chest, his storm-fire crackling protectively around the child as they launched upward. The rift screamed as it imploded, reality snapping back into proper alignment with violent force. Serenya pressed herself against Vaelrik’s scales, feeling his dragon’s powerful wings carving through the distorted air.
They soon burst into sunlight that felt impossibly clean after the corruption below. The perpetual grayness that had hung over the Gloam for centuries was finally lifting, her sealing sigil’s magic spreading outward like dawn breaking across the wasteland.
From deep below, Serenya felt the Shadow Sovereign’s roar vibrate through her bones—ancient, infuriated, and denied. But not defeated. Just set back, hopefully for generations.
We bought time,she thought grimly.That’s all we can do.
Silence followed. They flew back to Cinderhollow without speaking, each lost in their own exhaustion and relief. The weight of what they’d accomplished—and what still lurked beneath the sealed rift—pressed heavy on Serenya’s shoulders.
When they landed outside the Citadel’s gates, Vaelrik and Kyr shifted back to their human forms with bone-deep weariness. Serenya dropped beside Vaelrik, her legs wobbly from magical drain. Tamsin stumbled between them, and Serenya immediately scooped the child into her arms.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered, vowing silently that she would protect this magical little girl from now on. Whatever power Tamsin carried, whatever destiny awaited her, Serenya would be her shield.
They were all shaking—exhausted and dazed from their encounter in the Gloam’s heart. But they were alive, and hopefully peace could finally be restored to the Ashen Realms.
Vaelrik pressed his forehead to Serenya’s, his storm-gray eyes holding hers with fierce intensity. “We are not what he tried to make us.”
She nodded against him, feeling his certainty through their mate bond. “We are who we choose to be.”
Together, they walked into the Citadel, Tamsin’s small arms gripping Serenya’s neck tightly. Kyr fell into step beside them, his scarred face showing the first real smile she’d seen from him.
“I’ll see you both later for a celebratory dinner,” he said, his tone lighter than usual. “I think we’ve earned it.”
“That sounds perfect,” Serenya replied, meaning it. For the first time in years, the future felt like something worth celebrating.
They made their way to Vaelrik’s quarters in comfortable silence. Once inside, he quickly dressed in clean clothes while Serenya settled on his bed with Tamsin. The child looked up at them both with those too-knowing gray-blue eyes.
“I would like to stay with you,” Tamsin said simply. “If that’s all right.”
Serenya’s heart clenched. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll keep you safe.”
Vaelrik sat beside them, his expression softening as he looked at the orphaned child. “You’re part of our family now.”
The domestic moment wrapped around them like warmth—something Serenya had never dared to want but found herself cherishing. A mate who saw her as an equal. A child to protect. A home that felt real.
Then a sharp knock shattered the peace.
Kyr’s voice carried through the door, tense and formal. “Change of plans. The Council wants to meet you both for a debrief. Something about the city battle and the Gloam mission.”
Serenya’s jaw tightened. She was not in the mood for political theater, especially not when her body still thrummed with magical exhaustion. But if Archon Serect thought he could twist this victory back on them somehow, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.
“Let me guess,” she said dryly, standing and smoothing her clothes. “They want to take credit for our success while finding ways to blame us for the damage.”
Vaelrik’s expression darkened, his protective instincts flaring through their bond. “If Serect tries his manipulations again?—”
“Then we’ll be ready for him,” Serenya finished, her green eyes flashing with determination. She’d exposed one truth today. She was more than willing to expose another.
Vaelrik and Serenya left his quarters with Tamsin nestled against Serenya’s shoulder, the child’s small arms wrapped trustingly around her neck. Vaelrik’s hand settled protectively on Serenya’s back as they walked, his presence radiating the kind of controlled authority that made guards step aside without being asked.
He’s different,Serenya thought, stealing a glance at his profile.Centered. Dangerous in an entirely new way.
When they entered the Council chambers, Serenya immediately felt the shift in atmosphere. The three elders—Storm, Bone, and Obsidian—sat rigidly in their elevated thrones. But it was Archon Serect who commanded the room’s attention, standing at the center like a serpent coiled to strike.
His molten eyes swept over them with calculated precision. Vaelrik steady and controlled, no longer wrestling with internal chaos. Serenya carried Tamsin with confident grace, her evolved lumen magic practically glowing beneath her skin. And the way they moved unconsciously in sync, two halves of something greater than either could be alone.
