But so far, everyone we’ve encountered—minus that rental clerk—has been kind. Normal, even. Just people. Aryans like us… only on this side of the line.
A part of me couldn’t help but wonder how much of a people’s perception was shaped by their leaders. Were the Tyrians truly our enemies… or just a handful of elementals clawing for more power?
The Battle for Mareki had begun because one faction wanted more than they were given. More magic. More control. More than the Mareki was ever willing to allow. When they pushed too far, the Gem pushed back.
The retaliation was devastating.
The Mareki Gem, in all its unbridled power, destroyed the mages—those like me, who could channel two elements. What remained after the battle were the elementals—humans bound to a single element—and the birth of a new magic.
Dragons.
Now, it felt like history was repeating itself. And if that first war had been magic’s way of hitting a reset, what would happen this time if we ignored the warning?
Fool the Mareki once—shame on them. Fool it twice…
Magic was older and far greater than humankind. And instead of honoring it, we’d spent centuries trying to cage it. Shape it. Own it. And every time, it fought back.
Even so, my chest thrummed with a pulse of excitement and nerves for tomorrow. The masquerade would give us cover—a chance to dig beneath the surface and uncover what had been hidden or rewritten across generations. I would not leave without finding something that could help end this endless war.
Like Cora Reyes had once been in Scarlet’s life, we would be the enemy hiding in plain sight.
Chapter 44
The sunlight filtered through the forest canopy as Rhodes and I made our way from the treehouse toward the main village. I sipped slowly from the cup of coffee he’d brought to my bedside—holding it under my nose until the scent dragged me awake. Normally, my perfect brew would’ve been gone in minutes, but today... today my stomach was tangled in knots.
I offered a polite smile to every villager we passed—each one nodding or greeting Rhodes with familiarity. I, on the other hand, kept my mug half-shielded in front of my face like it could hide the fact that I was unraveling inside.
We stopped at a small bakery on the way down—a place Rhodes claimed had the best croissants in the Glade. I had to admit he wasn’t wrong: flaky, buttery perfection. But even with food in my system, the unease only settled deeper the closer we got.
Eventually, we veered off the path I’d grown used to. We crossed a small stone bridge arcing over a glowing stream, the water glittering with soft blue light. On the other side stood a white-brick cottage with lilac shutters and overflowing flower boxes. Ivy woundalong the walls, dotted with tiny wild blooms—like something pulled from a fairytale.
“Are you ready?” Rhodes asked, pausing at the cottage steps.
I froze. I lifted the mug to my lips, pretending to sip, and realized—I was trembling.
Rhodes noticed.
Without a word, he reached out, his warm hand settling over mine on the mug. His thumb brushed softly across my knuckles.
“She’s going to love you,” he murmured.
I lowered the mug and blinked at the sudden emptiness. “How do you know?” I whispered.
“Because—” Rhodes began, but his words caught. He cleared his throat, gaze shifting over my shoulder.
I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. I heard their voices first.
“Good morning, my lovely elemental friends!” Davis’s voice rang out, full of cheer. He and Tatum appeared, dressed in their new Shadow Glade–issued leathers. His stride had a bounce to it, the way it always did when he was excited.
Rhodes raised a brow. “You’re chipper.”
“It’s a good day to have a good day. Isn’t that right, Tatum?” Davis threw a wink over his shoulder as he bounded ahead.
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she leaned into me, looping her arms around my shoulders in a warm hug.
Davis was already chattering as he swung the heavy wooden door to the library open. “Or all night. Multiple times, all night. And this morning.”
I felt Rhodes stiffen beside me. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to Tatum with the flat, unimpressed look only a big brother could manage, one brow arched high in silentjudgment.
