Page 235 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

They linked hands, grim and pale. Rain tugged them forward, shielding them from the violent winds as they trudged into the clearing. Snow crunched beneath their boots, ankle-deep and thickening by the second.

The battlefield had shifted left, leaving them behind the main clash. The Shadow Guard fought uphill, disadvantaged and rapidly overwhelmed. The pyroforged aetherial pressed hard, coordinated, relentless; closing in on Snow.

Rage detonated inside Rain.

He released Jay’s hand and stormed into the fray, fury propelling him straight toward the exposed backs of the red guard. Jay and Jacklynn followed, terrified but obedient.

Rain drew a shaky breath and whispered, “Don’t hate me.” A plea to Jay, though he wouldn’t hear it over the wind and gunfire.

The words were heavy; soaked in regret, self-loathing, and inevitability.

Rain didn’t want to kill. He never had.

But war demanded cruelty.

And to protect the people he loved, he would become whatever the moment required.

Even if it destroyed him.

It cut Rain deeply that Jay; one of the few people who had ever seen him as anything other than a harbinger of death and destruction, would have to witness the darkness he was about to unleash. Rain had stumbled into their relationship heart first, disarmed by Jay’s warmth, his softness, the quiet safety he radiated without even trying. Jay had made him feel seen in a way Rain had never allowed himself to imagine, let alone believe he deserved. Rain hadn’t thought about logistics or consequences; he had simply given in to the ache for companionship, letting them both pretend he could be something gentler than what he truly was.

Jay saw him through rose-tinted glass; saw the man Rain wished he could be, not the one he had been forged into.

But Rain had always known this moment would come. The day Jay would see the truth. The day the illusion would crack. The day Rain’s shadows would spill out in full, merciless force.

He wasn’t gentle.

He wasn’t kind.

He wasn’t selfless or forgiving.

He was karma.

He was justice.

He was the nightmare whispered about in enemy camps.

With one final glance at him—a silent apology, a plea for understanding, a farewell to the version of himself Jay loved—Rain steeled his heart. He let the warmth drain from his spirit, let the coldness rise, let the part of him built for war take the reins.

Because this act, however repugnant, was the only way to protect the people he loved.

The air thickened with terrifying malice as he released his power. With a predatory glare fixed on the backs of his enemy, he began snapping necks. The twitch off his head was the only indication that it was him orchestrating the massacre. His piercing gaze jotting from one victim to the next as their heads jerked into unnatural twists. Twenty soldiers fell to their death before others began to notice.

Rain smirked cruelly as the soldiers spun their weapons toward him, exactly as he’d anticipated. Jay and Jacklynn gasped, clinging to each other as the first shots rang out. Rain didn’t even flinch. With a flick of his will, he seized the trajectory of every bullet and sent them arcing back toward their sources. The sudden reversal shattered the formation, shouts erupted, panic rippled through the ranks, and the remaining troops faltered.

Chaos erupted.

“The Blue prince—he’s here!” someone screamed.

Half the unit fled into the trees, abandoning their posts in terror. The others stumbled backward toward Snow and the Shadow Guard, desperate to regroup.

Rain advanced without hesitation, moving through the aftermath, stepping over the fallen as though they were nothing more than uneven ground. Jay and Jacklynn struggled behind him, stumbling, breath hitchingas they tried to keep pace through the blood curdled snow and the remnants of the skirmish.

Rain felt Drazier’s energy signature tearing away into the distance; fleeing, scrambling, running like the coward he was. Rain took a few steps in that direction, ready to pursue, but a sudden spike of adrenaline flared through Snow’s aura, sharp and urgent. It yanked him toward her like a hook in his chest.

Drazier could run.

He could buy himself a little more time.