Chapter 36 | The Crisis | Kael
The morning Kieran's warning shows up, I know something's off before I even read it.
The ward crystals around the cottage start flashing red—a signal from the outer network, set off by something moving fast from the south. Three signatures. Quick. Professional. Moving in a pattern that screams military training.
Council strike team. Not agents. Soldiers.
I wake Leah with my hand over her mouth, catching her eyes in the dark. She tenses for a second, then nods—she gets it without me saying anything. Good. She's learning fast.
"Safe room," I whisper in her ear. "Now. Lock the door. Whatever you hear, don't come out."
She moves. Silent. Quick. The weeks of training show in every move. She rolls out of bed, grabs her robe from the chair, and she's through the safe room door in three seconds. The lock clicks—a sound that makes me feel better and worse at the same time.
I get dressed fast, the short-knife sliding into my hand like it belongs there. The pressure builds inside me, my Prince's power coiling in my chest like something alive. Three signatures. I can take three. But if there are more—if this is a bigger attack with backup waiting—
The front door explodes inward.
Not opens. Explodes. Wood pieces fly across the room, sticking into the walls, the furniture, the blanket that's still warm from Leah. Three figures come through the smoke, their faces hidden behind military-grade shadow-masks, their bodies covered in suppressor-charged armor.
Suppressor armor. Made to weaken bloodkind abilities. Works against mid-level fighters. Against a Third-Rank Prince?
We'll find out.
"Prince Kael," the lead soldier says, his voice warped by the mask's filter. "By order of the Council, you are under arrest for—"
I don't let him finish.
The pressure releases in a focused burst—not the wide blast I used on the agents, but a sharp spear of force aimed right at the lead soldier's chest. He flies backward, crashing through the doorframe, his armor cracking from the hit.
The other two react right away. Professional. They've trained for this. One shoots a suppression net—woven shadow-steel, made to trap and drain. I Shadow-glide past it, my blade cutting through the net's control node mid-air.
The third soldier rushes me, swinging a suppression baton at my head. I catch it, the metal burning against my palm, and twist. The baton bends, then snaps. I kick him in the chest, sending him sliding across the floor.
Three seconds. Three soldiers down. But I hear more—footsteps outside, at least four more signatures coming from the north and east.
Seven total. A full strike team.
"Leah," I say through the Bloodbond, sending my thoughts along the fading connection. "I'm going to lead them away. When the outer ward turns green, run. South. Into the forest. Don't look back."
"Kael—" her mental voice is weak, scared.
"Trust me."
I burst through the front door, releasing a full shockwave that shatters what's left of the windows and knocks the approaching soldiers off their feet. They roll, recover, raise their weapons—but I'm already moving, Shadow-glide carrying me north at crazy speed, pulling their attention, their fire, their chase.
Three follow me right away. The others pause, then split—two after me, two toward the cottage.
No.
I change direction, circling back. The two heading for the cottage are fast, almost as fast as me. They reach the door, raise their suppression devices—and I hit them from behind, full force driving them both into the stone wall. The wall cracks. They don't get up.
"Leah! Now! The ward is green! Run!"
I see her—just for a second, a flash of white nightgown in the doorway. Then she's running, south, into the forest, faster than I thought she could. The Bloodbond connection stretches, getting thinner, but I can still feel her—fear and determination, her heart racing.
The remaining soldiers regroup. Four of them now, forming a defensive square. Smart. They know they can't outrun me, so they're making me come to them.
Fine.
I walk toward them, my blade dripping with shadow-ichor from the suppressor baton. My power is a storm inside me, barely held back, screaming to get out. Four soldiers. Suppressor armor. Tactical formation.
They don't have a chance.
The fight is quick and brutal. I don't kill them—Council soldiers are just doing their jobs—but I break bones, crack armor, leave them knocked out in the dirt. When the last one drops, I stand in the middle of the mess, breathing hard, my body buzzing with the rush of the fight.
Then I feel it. Through the stretched-thin Bloodbond connection.
Leah. Terrified. Running. And behind her—
Another signature. Fast. Powerful. Following.
I run.