“Two weeks,” Zira says quietly. “The Council’s coming.”
“Less than that now. Ten days.” I think of all the Feeders still traveling here, drawn by whispers of an impossible hope made real. “We have ten days to make sure they regret ever trying to clip our wings.”
I start walking toward the mist that guards the chamber entrance, and after a moment, Zira follows. The silver light swallows our footsteps, and I let myself disappear into it, thinking of lists and contingencies and all the ways this could go right.
Because for the first time in centuries, Feeders aren’t just surviving.
We’re preparing for war.
Part Four: A Touch That Ignites
Chapter 25
Bree
I wake naked on floor cushions.
Velvet under my skin. Warm. Too warm.
My body hums like I’ve been running, like I’ve been touched everywhere.
For a moment I can’t tell if I’m breathing or if the air is breathing me.
Something moves beyond the edge of the light.
A shape—tall, human—dark hair catching the faint glow of Ether that still drifts above the cushions.
I blink once, twice. The shape doesn’t vanish.
A ghost, then.
Of course it’s a ghost. Everything here is ghosts.
I let my eyes close again.
Heat rolls through me in slow, lazy waves.
Memory, maybe. His hands sliding down my back. His mouth at my throat.
The low voice that told me I was made for surrender.
Every nerve answers as if it’s happening again. My hips tilt. My breath catches.
The cushions exhale silver light and my Ether follows—soft, obedient, dark at the edges.
A whisper brushes my ear:good girl.
I arch toward it before I remember there’s no one here.
When I open my eyes, the ghost is closer.
Kneeling now. Close enough that I can almost make out a face.
My heart trips over itself. “No…” The sound is barely a breath.
It can’t be him. I killed him. I saw—
The thought unravels before it can finish.
