Chapter 193: The Sky Burns Twice
Aryia’s silhouette flickered in the blaze like a falling star refusing to fade. The silence that followed her was worse than screams. It was the crackling of truths burning, of foundations crumbling beneath feet that once believed they stood on solid ground. It was the deep-rooted fear of finding Cassian lifeless. How could she ever remotely make this up to her mate? Her life had been an endless ordeal. However, since Cassian was born, she knew she still held hope in her heart, hope held at a distance, until the day she realised she had gotten too close to him, and he had found out who she was to him. That was the beginning of the end.
Far away from her, Vincent stood frozen in the doorway, the scout’s message still ringing in his ears.
“She told them about Ashborne… the Elders retaliated.”
Damian was barking out orders like a possessed and possessive Umbrazin mated Alpha. The cords in his neck were taut with fury.
“Aryia knew what it would cost. She gave them the only weapon she had left, truth.”
Isla’s brow furrowed. “But why now?”
“Love,” Vincent said quietly. “She had to protect him.”
Behind him, Alaine, fiercely ready for battle and standing beside Brienne and Leo, each of them wearing the same expression: dread sharpened into readiness, murmured, “I heard,” eyes trained on Vincent. “Maedor’s fortress was one of the last strongholds. If it fell…”
“Then the Elders are no longer just watching,” Leo finished grimly. “They’re striking allies and enemies.”
A cold gust swept through the corridor, followed by footsteps too graceful to belong to anyone but her.
Lucia.
She appeared beside the fire like she had always belonged to shadow. Her presence was a ripple in the fabric of the room, something sacred and dangerous wrapped in silk and knives.
“And Maedor?” she asked, her voice low, melodic with warning. “Was he seen?”
The scout hesitated. Then nodded. “He was with Marcus. Near the west rampart, moments before they attacked us and we captured Marcus.”
Brienne paled.
“He was working with Marcus. I knew it.”
Lucia’s eyes narrowed, the line of her jaw cutting like moonlight.
“It’s more complicated. Maedor was one of the first to resist the corruption. But Marcus… Marcus was his brother-by-sworn-blood and betrayal.”
The words fell like iron.
Vincent’s jaw clenched.
“If Maedor couldn’t stop it… then we may have no time.”
A silence stretched until it snapped under the weight of another mud-smeared and bleeding scout arriving. His breath hitched as he leaned on the doorframe.
“There’s movement,” he panted. “Sombrosi assassins and their forces are shifting again, toward the ruins of Maedor’s tower. It wasn’t just punishment. They’re claiming something.”
Damian rose, every inch of him transformed again into Alpha, his aura burning like a forge.
“Then we meet them there. Before they can rebuild on ashes.”
“But the convergence…” Isla began.
“…can’t happen if Ashborne opens the Veil first,” Brienne finished. “That’s what they’re after. Not just domination… they want to rewrite fate.”
Alaine stepped forward, eyes fierce, jaw tight.
“We need every able fighter. Even the fractured ones. We can’t face this with strength alone.”
Lucia’s gaze flicked to Isla. Her voice carried the quiet resonance of something long-forbidden.
“Then perhaps it’s time we stop hiding all our pieces.”
Isla met her eyes, understanding dawning like thunder rolling low in the belly of the sky.
The Umbrazin.
The sealed blood. The finality in her veins that the Elders feared most. It was time.
Vincent looked to Damian.
“I’ll lead the vanguard. I know Maedor’s layout. Aryia told me more than she should have, and I’ve visited that fortress often when I was with…”
Damian nodded, cutting him off. “When you were brainwashed by the Elders. Say it. There is no shame.”
Vincent swallowed hard, but his eyes burned with resolution.
“Then take Leo and Alaine,” Damian continued. “Brienne and I will gather the shadow runners.”
“I’m coming too,” Isla said, her voice like flint.
“No,” Damian growled, turning to her. “You’re…”
“Damian, stop changing your mind and cutting me out of all of this. We belong to each other, yes, but we also belong to this world and the many others that depend on us,” she pressed, stepping into him. “And if the Veil is part of it, then I have to be there.”
Damian’s breath caught. She wasn’t wrong and the bond between them throbbed, golden and ancient, fragile yet unbreakable.
He cursed low, then pulled her into him, kissed her forehead hard.
“Then we do this together.”
Lucia stepped closer to the flame, eyes distant, unblinking.
“The Elders always feared the prophecy. That the child born of all three lines, Umbrazin, Veyra, Sombrosi, would tear the Veil wide. Aryia, in protecting Cassian, may have done more than shift alliances.”
“She may have started the unseating of their throne,” Isla whispered, spine straightening.
“And now we bleed for it,” Leo muttered, gripping his sword, his knuckles white.
“No,” Brienne said, her voice like tempered steel. “We burn for it.”
Another gust of wind howled through the shattered stone windows. This one carried something else.
A scent that was wrapped in smoke, ash and blood. The sky outside had taken on a strange hue, neither dusk nor dawn but something scorched and unnatural. A sky born from two fires burning at once.
“The sky burns twice,” Lucia murmured, more to herself than to anyone. “Once for what was… and again for what must come.”
Damian turned to the gathered circle, his expression cast in stone.
“Then light your blades. Sharpen your gifts. Say your goodbyes.”
No one spoke. Outside, the wind moaned like a creature waking from slumber.
Inside, the fire whispered prophecy and the war had already begun.