The timing was too perfect. The shadows fell while we stood glowing with magic. At the same time, vampires moved like living night. At the same time, shifters braced as if ready to charge. From the orcs’ perspective, it didn’t matter that the shadows didn’tfeellike our magic.
Itlookedlike it.
“No,” I breathed. “She’s pinning it on us.”
An orc bellowed and hurled his axe, not at the shadows, but toward our line. It struck an ice wall and shattered into fragments, but the message landed cleanly.
Accusation.
Fear twisted into rage with terrifying speed.
More shadows dropped, faster now, splattering across the orc ranks like black rain. One hit the ground and burst outward in a wave that knocked three orcs off their feet. Another latched onto a mondo boar’s flank, sending the massive creature into a panicked charge that nearly crushed its handlers.
“They think we’re doing this!” Keegan shouted over the chaos.
“I know!” My voice cracked, the heat at my hip flaring so hot it felt like my skin might split. I forced my hands higher, letting my shield expand, not outward in aggression, but upward—visible, undeniable. “Stop! This isn’t—”
A roar drowned me out.
The orcs surged forward, not in a full charge, but in a defensive rush meant to eliminate the perceived threat before it could strike again. Their eyes burned with certainty now. Certainty was easier than fear.
Shadows continued to fall, always just close enough to our group to frame us as the source.
The Hollows answered with another violent shudder, ice walls surging higher, sealing escape routes and forcing the battlefield inward. The space between us and the orcs shrankuntil I could see individual scars, clenched jaws, the whites of their eyes.
I locked my gaze on the orc leader at the front, raising my hands again, my voice tearing free of my chest.
“We are not your enemy!”
Another shadow dropped and struck the ground between us.
The orcs raised their weapons as one.
Chapter Forty-Three
The moment stretched so thin it felt like it might snap.
The orcs stood poised on the edge of it, weapons raised, bodies angled forward, breath steaming in short, furious bursts. Their line wasn’t neat anymore. Confusion had torn through it, leaving pockets of rage and fear where order should’ve been. Axes trembled in massive hands. Clubs scraped against ice and stone. Their eyes burned with certainty now—the dangerous kind, the kind that didn’t ask questions because it already believed it knew the answer.
More shadows fell.
They dropped like spilled ink from a careless hand, splashing against armor, striking the frozen ground, crawling briefly before sinking away.
It was a battle of story.
And if violence started from our hands, if even one blow was struck in earnest, there would be no rewriting it. There would be no explanation clever enough to counter that mistake. And nomagic was strong enough to undo the truth that would be forged in blood and fear.
I felt it then with absolute clarity.
If this turned into a fight, I wouldn’t just lose the orcs.
I would lose the future.
“Maeve,” Keegan said sharply at my side, his voice tight with barely leashed panic. I could feel it rolling off him, the instinct to protect, to shift, to put himself between me and every threat at once. “They’re going to charge.”
“I know,” I said, and my voice sounded strange to my own ears, too calm for the storm building in my chest.
Behind us, the vampires had gone utterly still. It wasn’t fear that held them; it was restraint. Stella’s expression had hardened into something ancient and biting, her eyes tracking every falling shadow, every downed orc, every twitch of an orc’s muscles. Lady Limora’s hands were folded neatly in front of her, but the air around her hummed with coiled power.
