Chapter 133 Mortal Enemy

Chapter 133 Mortal Enemy
Bailey 

We say our goodbyes to Mercutio and Volia outside the cathedral in Primius. Mercutio thanks Rian for standing with Primius, and Rian thanks him in return. Volia steps forward and hugs me before she lets go and says, “Come back and visit us soon.” 

Sionne waits just beyond, to lead us to the landing where Kenya is already waiting.

Kenya is in dragon form when we arrive, settled low against the stone with her wings folded close and her head lowered so that we can mount easily. Rian helps me up first, then climbs up behind me, and once we are both secure, Kenya pushes off the ground and lifts into the sky.

The wind changes immediately, sharp and cold as Primius falls away beneath us, and we fly home to Silverhide. The mountains eventually give way to forest, then river, then the familiar outline of Silverhide Village appearing in the distance. 

Kenya descends outside the castle walls and lands so we can dismount. Rian and I thank her for the ride, and she lowers her head in acknowledgment before she lifts again and disappears into the sky. 

We move through the gates, into the courtyard, and I stop almost immediately because the entire space has been transformed. White roses climb the stone railings and archways in thick arrangements, lilies fill urns placed throughout the courtyard, and candles burn in glass lanterns. At the center sits Laura’s coffin, carved from pale wood and covered entirely in hand-shaped roses. 

The courtyard is full, every space occupied by people from across Silverhide, elders standing beside servants, guards beside merchants, villagers gathered in quiet mourning so that there is no distinction left between them. 

Music rises from the orchestra gathered at one side of the courtyard, strings and woodwinds blending in sorrowful refrain, marking the beginning of the service. When the final phrase ends, Rian steps forward and begins to speak, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard.

“Laura lived her life in a way that made other people’s lives better without ever asking for recognition,” he says. “She gave her time, her attention, and her care without measuring what she would receive in return. Silverhide has lost someone irreplaceable.” 

When he steps back, I move onto the platform. 

“Laura was my friend,” I say. “She had a good sense of humor, a cheerful, loyal and giving nature, and she had a pure, kind heart. She listened in a way that made me feel understood before I even finished speaking, and she made me feel like I didn’t have to face anything alone.”

I place a white rose on the coffin, resting my hand there for a moment before I finally step back.

The procession begins afterward, the coffin carried slowly through Silverhide in the royal carriage while citizens line the streets, white petals scattered along the path as the entire pack follows without interruption. The hill behind the temple rises above the city, and when we reach the cemetery, Laura is lowered into the earth beneath a sky that feels too blue and still to know what is happening beneath it.

I hold tightly to Rian’s hand as the first shovel full of soil falls, then the next, and the next, each sound final in a way that can’t be softened or undone. When it’s over, white flowers are laid across the grave until the earth disappears beneath them, and I remain standing there long after most of the crowd has left because leaving feels like acknowledging something I’m not ready to accept.

Eventually, Rian wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into him as we turn away together. 

We walk hand in hand back to the castle, and when we pass through the gates, I look up at the tower.

“We need to go into the Alchemist Tower,” I say as we walk. “I want to go through Ava’s work.”

Rian looks at me immediately. “Aren’t you tired? We can do that later. It’s been a long few days.”

“No,” I say. “I want to go now.”

He studies me for a moment, then exhales. “All right.”

The Alchemist Tower is still filled with the metallic scent of blood, and I shudder again at the thought of Alexander taking the blade for me. 

Ava’s journals are still stacked across the central table exactly as she left them, and as I look through them, I see the moonstone bridge schematics. 

Rian moves with me to the table and I start opening a second journal while he leans in beside me.

“This is her bridge work,” he says after a moment, turning a page. “Claire made her make it so that she and Lukas could escape.”

“I know,” I say. “And I know Quinn used it to get through the tower basement wall, but I bet she also used it to get the wolves that were helping her here.”

We don’t rush. We go page by page, following the progression of Ava’s designs as they evolve across multiple versions of the same structure. 

“This one’s reinforced,” Rian says. “The anchor points are set in stronger magic than the first version.”

I lean closer. “She kept upgrading it.”

Rian looks at me. “Why would she keep refining something that was already finished?”

“Because it wasn’t finished,” I say as I read further. “She wanted to make it strong enough that shifters could travel across more than land. Realms. She wanted us to be able to cross realms.” 

We continue through the journals. 

“You’re right. This version isn’t just transportation,” he says. “This is a permanent link.”

I swallow once. “She made it for us.”

He looks up. “For us?”

“For travel between your realm and mine. So that you and the baby could go with me.”

Rian stares at me for a moment, tears brimming his eyes. “That Ava was a good one.” 

He turns another page. “This isn’t just a diagram,” Rian says after a moment. “This is a full alignment sequence.”

“We should open it,” I say. “We just need to read it right, and then maybe we can see where it leads.” 

We move through the instructions together, following the progression step by step, tracing how the moonstone bridge is meant to be assembled through layered focus points, potions, and stones. 

Rian pauses at one section.

“The opal moonstone is the activation key,” he says.

“Let’s test it,” I reply.

He looks at me once, then nods.

We follow it exactly as written, and the air above the table shifts as the final alignment locks into place, not exploding open but assembling itself slowly. 

A corridor begins to form, and Rian stiffens. “There.”

Inside the forming bridge structure, embedded in the architecture itself rather than the journal, a symbol comes into view as part of the completed alignment.

“No,” he says under his breath.

“What is that symbol?” I ask. 

The bridge continues to stabilize, fully formed now, holding open in controlled suspension above the table.

Rian exhales once. “I’ve seen that before.”

“Where?” I ask.

He swallows. “My father’s journal. Alpha King Cassius marked it as Junhera.”

I gasp. “Junhera?” I quickly follow the closing instructions on the page, breaking the alignment and collapsing the moonstone bridge before anyone can come through. The opening snaps shut and vanishes. “You mean Junhera, the mortal enemy of the eight territories and Primius?”

Rian’s eyes stay on the space where the symbol was. “We thought it was Crestwood or Ashvale,” he says. “It wasn’t. It was Junhera.”