Zander’s eyes shone—not with the fire of a prince or rider or heir to a bloodline, but with the raw, unfiltered love of a brother who would give the world to keep this one small human safe.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I heard the footsteps—quick, urgent.
“Zander! Ashe!”
Quinn sprinted from his tower, his robes flapping wildly as he nearly tripped on the last step. His face said everything long before his voice did—drained of color, lips pressed in a line of restrained panic.
“The pool,” he gasped, clutching the hem of his robe. “It’s black. The wards… they’re gone.”
My blood turned to ice.
Zander stood slowly, shifting Elara behind him.
“What do you mean, gone?” I asked, already striding toward him.
Quinn’s breath hitched. “I mean completely collapsed. The runes around the sanctum are inert. The magic is severed.”
Kaelith’s voice curled into my mind, low and grim.
Then the last protection has fallen.
A low, rumbling roar broke through the thick silence, echoing off the cliffs like a war cry from the gods themselves.
Then came the second… then a third. A chorus of primal thunder that shook the sky.
Kaelith’s head snapped up, eyes burning violet.
We are under attack!
The warning hit me like lightning. Chaos ignited across the Ascension Grounds.
“Riders to your dragons!” I shouted, already sprinting for Kaelith’s side.
Zander grabbed my arm briefly, his face pale but resolved. Then he turned to the nearest castle guard. “You. Escort my sister to her chambers. Lock the door and do not leave her.”
The guard nodded, grabbing Elara’s hand gently. She looked back once, eyes wide with fear, but Zander gave her a smile that nearly shattered me.
“I’ll come for you,” he promised.
Then she was gone, rushing inside the castle just as the first blast of lightning lit the skies overhead.
Kaelith surged forward as I vaulted into the saddle, the wind slapping my face. Riders mounted across the grounds, Cordelle, Naia, Ferrula, Jax, Riven, Tae, all leaping into the fray with practiced precision.
Black-winged horrors descended from the clouds, their scales glistening like oil in the sun. The Blood Fae rode them, robed and armored, blades flashing with unnatural fire. The air shimmered with their spells, warping the wind, the light, even sound.
Kaelith rose with a shriek, barreling into a black Striker and knocking it from the air. I ducked under a blast of Storm Fire and countered with my own, bright white-blue energy flaring from my hands.
But something felt... wrong.
They weren’t fighting to kill. I realized it mid-strike, my blast barely grazing a rider who should’ve been eviscerated. He pulled away instead of pressing his attack.
Kaelith spun, her claws catching another dragon’s wing, not enough to cripple it. And yet… the fae didn’t retaliate.
They’re not aiming for our dragons,Kaelith hissed.They’re avoiding fatal blows.
I stared around the battlefield as the dance continued. The Blood Fae were attacking in waves, but their movements were strange—coordinated, restrained.
A diversion,I realized.This isn’t a battle. It’s a distraction.
