Once I stepped into better light, I looked down at myself.
The dress was solid black, fitted throughout. I had no clue what the fabric was—it definitely wasn’t silk—but it was thick enough to hold its shape and emphasize every curve. A single slit ran up the front to my mid-thigh, and the straps were about as thinas noodles at dinnertime. Cool air skimmed my back, most of it bare thanks to the plunging cut. The neckline was straight across my chest but dipped into a narrow V at the center, framing the curves of my breasts.
I laid my cloak over a wide boulder and sat to wrestle with the heels again. I thought I finally had them figured out when Shayde’s voice made me jump.
“Out of everything in this world you can do—heels have you stumped?”
The urge to snap at him bubbled up—then vanished when I looked up and saw him kneel before me.
Shayde Wylder, on one knee, holding the second heel.
He wore a midnight-black suit, the same shade as my dress, with a deep purple shirt beneath the jacket. His tie matched perfectly—dark-violet silk that made the entire outfit impossibly sleek. The collar framed his neck just right, high enough to hide the tungsten choker beneath it.
The man looked like a shadow kissed by moonlight—and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
I forgot that I hated him.
Out of the corner of my eye, the wolves watched us silently as Shayde took my left foot and rested it on his thigh. He slipped the heel on with practiced ease, then laced the straps around my ankle with surprising care. I didn’t protest when he shifted and did the same with my right.
Then he stood, extending a hand to help me up. It felt natural to place my hand in his. His grip was strong, unyielding, and when he hauled me to my feet, our eyes caught.
And held.
I cleared my throat, breaking the moment, and turned to grab my cloak. Before slipping it on, I undid my braid and ran my fingers through my hair, letting loose waves tumble over my shoulders and down my back. With one more glance at the wolves, I offered a quiet thanks.
Then Shayde and I started toward the party that very well might kill us.
Chapter 46
“I once believed people were complete fools. Every fragment of history I uncovered made me wish I could travel back and strangle those who destroyed the magical gift we were given. Yet—” Cami’s eyes glazed briefly, her expression softening, “the Seer arrived on the most wonderful day of our lives—when our sons were delivered. And in that moment… evenIwas willing to corrupt myself with magic.”
Her gaze lingered with memory as she rounded the table and cupped Rhodes’s cheeks in both palms. “Because fate decided to hook itself into the soul of one of our boys.”
Rhodes pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a fierce, protective hug. Something in my chest tightened at the sight. Tatum and Davis went still beside me, the three of us silent, giving them that moment of peace.
When they finally drew apart, I cleared my throat. “May I hear the rest of the prophecy?”
Cami wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and gave me a small, grateful smile. “Of course you can. But not here.”
My brows knit as I watched her cross to a narrow stretch of blank concrete wall. She dipped her fingers into a small pot of soil on a low shelf and began sketching runes in slow, practiced strokes.
Okay. She definitely wasn’t an earth elemental. I’d seen Fallon channel dirt from thin air to do the same thing.
“Have you come across any dragons here bonded to Camilla Wylder?” I asked Lakota.
“I have not.”
A steel door shimmered into existence—just like the concealed archway Shayde and I had seen when we visited the Grim’s quarters at Mageia.
Cami stepped forward and began unlocking it, her fingers moving with silent precision through four different mechanisms. An old iron key. A rotating elemental dial. A glowing rune that pulsed under her palm. And finally, a whisper in a language I didn’t recognize—one that made the hair on my arms stand up.
The final lock clicked. Without hesitation, she pushed open the heavy door, and we followed her inside.
The air changed the second we crossed the threshold. The room was smaller than the cellar behind us, but it felt heavier—like the walls were holding secrets so ancient they could shatter if spoken aloud. Stone shelves lined the room, lower and narrower than the ones outside.
Cami locked the door behind us. A nervous jolt shot down my spine.
“How long has this been here, Ma?”
