Chapter 33 I am so tired of people wanting me
The bunker’s fluorescent lights flickered and died, leaving only the pulsing violet glow from my chest to illuminate the carnage. Commander Vane groaned against the far wall, his ribs likely shattered, but I couldn't look at him. My eyes were locked on the thing in the doorway.
It was a Grey Walker, a high-tier necromantic construct made of smoke and spite. It didn't have a face, just a void where features should be, and long, spindly fingers that dripped a liquid that sizzled when it hit the concrete floor.
"Aria, get back," Kael rasped. He tried to shove himself off the floor, but his arm buckled, and he hissed in pain. The silver-threaded bandages on his chest were soaking through with fresh crimson.
"You can't even stand, Kael!" I shouted, the violet seed in my heart throbbing in time with my panic.
The Walker didn't wait. It lunged, moving like a shadow cast by a dying candle. I threw out my hand, expecting the usual black vacuum, but instead, a whip of violet fire lashed out. It struck the Walker, sending it recoiling with a shriek that sounded like grinding metal.
The violet is delicious, isn't it? the Shadow Queen purred in my mind. Caspian’s gift is more than a mark. It’s a weapon. Use it.
"I'm not using his magic!" I screamed at the air.
"Aria, the humans—" Kael pointed toward the hallway.
More Walkers were pouring into the precinct above. I could hear the screams of soldiers and the useless pop-pop-pop of standard-issue firearms. The Silent Treaty was being baptized in blood before the ink was even dry.
A Fragile Sanctuary
Somehow, we made it out. I used the violet fire to melt a hole through the precinct’s rear wall, dragging a semi-conscious Kael and a battered Commander Vane into the rainy alleyway. We didn't go back to the stronghold. We went to the only place in Seattle that was still "human"—my old apartment in Capitol Hill.
It was a small, dusty studio with peeling wallpaper and a view of a brick wall, but to us, it was a fortress.
"Is... is this where you lived?" Kael asked, his voice weak as I eased him onto the faded velvet sofa. He looked entirely out of place, a literal King in a room that smelled of old books and vanilla candles.
"Before I was kidnapped by a vampire? Yes," I said, my hands trembling as I searched for the first-aid kit I’d left under the sink.
"It’s... charming," he murmured, his golden eyes scanning my old life the half-finished sketches on the table, the stack of records, the unwashed coffee mug. For a moment, the war felt a thousand miles away. The King of Shadows was just a man bleeding on my couch.
I sat on the floor beside him, cleaning his wounds with shaking hands. The chemistry between us, usually a high-tension wire of magic and duty, softened into something raw and human.
"I’m sorry," Kael whispered, his hand catching mine. "I promised to protect you, and here I am, letting you stitch me up in a hovel."
"It's not a hovel, it’s my home," I said, looking up at him. "And you didn't let me down. You took a bullet—well, a magic stone—to the heart for me. That's a lot of protection, Kael."
He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine. The scent of him rain, cedar, and old blood was the only thing keeping me grounded. "The violet light in your chest... it’s not fading, Aria."
"I know," I whispered. It felt like a hot coal tucked under my ribs. "Caspian is still in there. He’s watching us."
"Let him watch," Kael growled, his lips brushing against mine. "Let him see that the Void doesn't belong to the Circle. It belongs to me."
The kiss was desperate, a frantic attempt to prove we were still alive. It tasted of copper and rain, a fierce collision of his fading silver light and my burgeoning violet hunger. For a heartbeat, the "Shadow Queen" went silent, eclipsed by the sheer force of how much I wanted him to stay.
The Unexpected Guest
The moment was shattered by a heavy thump on the fire escape.
I sprang up, the violet fire flickering at my fingertips. "Stay back, Kael."
The window slid open, and a massive, fur-covered figure tumbled into the room. It wasn't a Walker. It was a wolf—or rather, a man who was mostly wolf. His clothes were shredded, his skin covered in thick grey fur, and he was bleeding from a deep claw mark across his snout.
"Draven," the werewolf wheezed, shifting painfully back into a human form—a tall, rugged man with wild amber eyes. "The North... they didn't just bring witches. They brought the Bane-Pack."
Kael’s expression went stone-cold. "Fenris. I thought your people stayed in the Olympics."
"The Circle promised the moon to the Alphas," Fenris said, coughing up blood. "They’re hunting anything that isn't dead. My pack is gone. I’m the only one left who hasn't taken their 'emerald' collar."
"Werewolves?" I looked from Kael to Fenris. "Great. What’s next? Mermaids in the Puget Sound?"
"Don't give them ideas," Kael muttered, trying to stand.
"The Bane-Pack is at the door, King," Fenris said, looking at me with a mixture of fear and awe. "And they followed the violet scent. They want the girl."
I looked at the door. I could hear it now the low, guttural growling of creatures that were pure muscle and hunger. The humans were paralyzed, the vampires were scattered, and now the wild was at the gate.
"I am so tired of people wanting me," I snapped, the violet light in my chest exploding outward.
The apartment walls began to rattle. The record player turned on by itself, a scratchy jazz tune playing into the tense silence.
"Kael, can you fight?" I asked, not looking back.
"I can hold a blade," he said, his hand finding the hilt of his sword.
"Good. Fenris, if you’re staying, get behind the sofa. I’m going to show these dogs why you don't break into a Queen’s home."
I didn't wait for them to answer. I walked to the door and threw it open.
Standing in the hallway were three massive wolves, their eyes glowing with a sickly emerald light the mark of the Circle. They weren't just animals; they were thralls.
"Dinner is served," the Shadow Queen whispered.
And for the first time, I didn't tell her to be quiet.