Yes, one way or another… This will end.
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Ash shudderedat being back in Caelvyrn under the cover of darkness. The serrated peaks hemmed them in, high on the mountains, slicing the sky like obsidian blades. She tugged her beanie lower against the biting chill and leaned back into Race’s chest, waiting for her signal.
The wind shifted, parting the clouds to spill moonlight across the sprawling city far below. For a heartbeat, everything looked deceptively peaceful.
Monolithic buildings rose from the ground, and bridges threaded between peaks, their fractured grandeur catching the torchlight like ghosts of their former beauty. There, in the distance, rising like a crown from the heart of the mountain—the Palace of Drakemære.
Their target.
Its crystalline spires pierced the mist, bridges stretched between them like veins of glass. Ash’s breath caught. Even ruined, it was breathtaking.
The last time she’d glimpsed it from the caves, she’d been terrified—dragged into the strange world against her will, everything foreign and monstrous. Now, here with Race, thesight struck differently. Awe and dread tangled in her chest…and sorrow at all her mate had lost.
Race’s gaze remained locked on the palace. But Ash sensed the storm within him through their bond, his buried fury, deep and cold. She slipped her hand into his and held on tight.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“It will be so again.” His voice was low, hard with promise.
Ash wanted to believe him. She really did. But memories of the usurper’s cruelty, of the betrayal that shattered the royal line, wouldn’t let her rest. Even with every safeguard protecting Race’s identity, fear still clawed at her chest. History could still repeat itself.
“Race.” She grasped his shirt beneath his leather jacket, her pulse hammering as the cold wind stung her face. His gaze met hers. “What if someone betrays you again? Like before?”
His thumb brushed her jaw, his touch warm, grounding. “Not this time.” His words were an oath, as if daring the Fates to defy him. “I’m not that young male anymore…” He skimmed her face. “I have you now.”
Her chest tightened, her throat ached. Then she firmed her jaw and nodded. She would drag the storm from heaven itself before she let anything happen to him.
He kissed her brow, then lifted his head, his eyes narrowing as he scanned their surroundings in the thin, gray pre-dawn light. Something in the air had shifted; she could feel it, too.
Ash followed his gaze. High above, hidden among the peaks, the Resistance’s wing squadron would already be in place.
“It’s time,” he said.
She drew in a deep breath, the cold burning her lungs. “Okay.”
Ash faced the peaks again. Arms raised, she mentally reached for the sky. Her power slipped free, instinctive and ancient. The air thrummed, answering her call. Clouds thickened, drawn toher will, vapor swirling like restless spirits over the mountain crests, forming larger masses. Its agitation grew, turning darker and more resistant.
I feel you,she sent out mentally,but I need your help, please…She coaxed them closer, weaving the faintest breeze through the peaks.
The vapors churned, but she held on until they obeyed.
Cloud banks rolled together, heavy and dark, swallowing the horizon. A faint wind swept down through the peaks, guiding them. She spread her hands, coaxing the mass wider until the entire city lay beneath its shroud. The morning dimmed as if twilight had fallen again.
Stay…She released the tether. The dark clouds held but churned. Slowly, she lowered her arms. “There, that should hold.”
“Watching you command nature is a fucking turn-on,” Race murmured from behind her.
She laughed, breathless. “Signal?”
“Go.”
Ash stretched out her hands again. Lightning prickled through her veins, bursting upward in a white-blue arc, tearing across the clouds. The flash lit the peaks. In its afterglow, she caught a glint of navy streaked with pewter.
“There—metallic blue wings,” she rasped.
