A thunderous knock shattered the moment.
“Not now!” Griff bellowed, his mouth still hot against my breast, his hands gripping my waist.
“You don’t have that choice,” came Kaia’s clipped voice through the door. “Emergency council meeting. Now. And bring the princess. Half the castle is looking for her.”
Reality crashed into us as brutally as if someone had doused us with ice water. Council chamber. War. Death. The weight of prophecies. A realm that needed saving.
We separated with reluctance, our breathing harsh in the sudden silence. My hands trembled as I reached for my discarded shirt. Griff cursed under his breath and tried to make himself presentable, but I was hyperaware of his heated gaze tracking my every movement.
“Lexa.” His voice stopped me. When I looked at him, his expression was fierce, determined. “Remember what I said. Nothing changes that. Not councils. Not wars. Not even the darkness itself.”
I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. I had never felt so alive, so certain of what I was fighting for—a realm, a prophecy, and him. Our future. Our love.
I held on to the idea of that future, of forever with him, with desperate hands as we emerged. Together.
Chapter
Forty-Two
We keep having council meeting after council meeting, as if that’s going to help. As if that will bring the sun back. Thom and Mira are doing their best, but what a time to be thrust into leadership. I pray there’s a chance in hell of us pulling it off. And I fear that chance is me.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
For the first time in the six months I’d been here, the council was silent as we walked in. There was no jovial conversation, no bickering, no shouting matches. Just the councilors sitting around the table, some in fear, some in dread, and some in resignation.
As soon as we took our seats, Griff began describing what he had seen. The picture he painted was grim, even more so than I had dreaded. “It is as we feared,” Griff said. “The Veil is tearing. No longer are there just holes appearing in the Veil, but the foundation is crumbling. Additionally, I can confirm that there are now two forms of hufen—the mindless soldiers we’ve known and the ones that call themselves his generals. If you remember, we reported on that several months ago, that Fiadh Doherty had referenced herself as such. They call themselves deamhan.”
“How did you learn this?” the councilor from Sylvaneth asked. Not as if they doubted him, but more as if in fear.
I could sense his hesitation, even though he kept his face blank of emotion. I felt him weighing his words and somehow knew it was because of me. I felt myself get pissed preemptively.
“I engaged one of them.”
I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
“Relax. I’m safe.”Even as he commanded the room, his attention was on me.
“Relax?!”How dare he tell me to relax? I sent everything I was feeling through the bond.“What do you mean youengagedone of them?”
“When I got to where the hole was, they were there. As if they were waiting for me.”
Understanding dawned on me.“They created the hole to draw you out.”
“Or, more likely, to drawyouout.”
If they knew we were mated, and drew Griff out hoping to get to me…
“The frequency of the holes is increasing. The hufen are becoming bolder, especially these deamhan. I think he’s done waiting.”
All the blood drained from my face.“What does that mean? And why now?”
“I don’t know, Princess.”
Out loud, Griff continued, “The general, the deamhan, was lucid. If I hadn’t seen his eyes, I never would have known he was infected. But once I knew, I saw the other, more subtle signs. Plants withering in his footsteps. Animals fleeing from his presence. The corruption is stronger in these deamhan, more aggressive. Just being near them starts to affect the environment. Who knows what havoc it will wreak on the Veil.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Fiadh had called herself a general. But she had been so far gone, I didn’t think she could have passed as human. My mind flashed back to Cillian. To what Aoife had said about his eyes. And my gut told me I was right—there were thosewho walked among us. Who could touch without infecting. Or infect only when they desired.
We were so fucked.
