Wild magic swirled around Barbie, eager to do her bidding. She and the magic were thick as thieves, and for the first time, I felt like a third wheel. It was profoundly unfair.
A guttural and primordial roar thundered across the clearing, slicing through our banter.
Everyone froze. We turned as one toward the far end of the field where Killian had been training alone. What stood there made my jaw drop.
Killian was now ten feet of monstrous fury. Sapphire scales sheathed impossible muscles. Horns curved from a skull that was both dragon and man His face hardened into something prehistoric, beautiful and terrible at once. His eyes, storm blue mixed with dragon gold, crackled with lightning.
When he opened his mouth, fire poured out in a controlled stream that turned the very air to plasma.
“Shit,” Barbie breathed. “That’s my mate.”
The chaos king had achieved a half-transformation. In this hybrid warrior form, he could match Ruin strength for strength. That was the plan: he would keep the god occupied while we destroyed his army. Then we would all pile on that fucker and pray it was enough.
“Killi...Killian?” Barbie called, her expression dreamy, aroused, and worried all at once.
“M—mate!” The voice was gravel and power. Killian was still in there.
“Don’t worry,” Barbie answered, a slow smile spreading. “I have a thing for monsters.”
Killian beckoned her with a clawed hand. “Come!”
But a piercing shriek cut through the moment.
“Barbie! Barbie!” Pucker zoomed through the thorned bushes, his phantom form more agitated than I’d ever seen. He’d been on scout duty, using his incorporeal nature to cover ground faster than any living being.
“They’re coming!” Pucker gasped, unnecessary for a ghost, but he loved drama. “Ruin’s army is less than an hour out! Less!”
“Three days. We were supposed to have three more days!” Rowan snarled.
“Ruin activated an ancient leyline! He’s bringing his abominations through!” Pucker cried.
“To war!” Killian roared, his hybrid form storming toward us. Barbie ran to meet him.
“To war!” the heirs echoed, their voices a unified roar of fury.
“Rally your men, brothers!” Cade shouted. “We meet at the Veil!”
The heirs raced from Underhill to muster their warriors. Killian kissed Barbie, hard and desperate, and then he was gone. Rowan turned to me, his eyes holding a thousand unspoken words. I gave him a fierce, encouraging smile instead of clinging to him like I wanted. War was here. My man needed to focus. Romance would have to wait.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Sy
War bells shattered the morning air, each clanging strike hammering against my ribs. These were not the gentle chimes for classes, but the deep, brutal gongs that tolled for only one thing: death was coming to Shades Academy.
“Move! Move! Move!” Cassius’s voice barked above the clamor as warriors streamed from every doorway. There was no panic in their ranks, only a lethal, practiced efficiency.
I stood frozen in the courtyard, watching the heirs and their generals forge order from chaos. House banners snapped in the wind—Chaos’s rampant dragon, the shifters’ howling wolf, the vampires’ eternal flame, the mages’ massive raven, and Rowan’s rebellion flag, hastily stitched, a silver tree blazing on a field of black. For the first time in centuries, all five Houses stood united.
Live alone, die alone. Stand together, win together.
The math churned in my mind. Bea’s exhausted team had forged just over a thousand blood-weapons. With Killian’s eight hundred demon blades, that made fewer than two thousand soldiers who could truly kill Shriekers.
We were sending them against two hundred thousand.
Those weren’t odds. That was a massacre waiting to happen.
