Chapter 160
Lirael
The moment we hit the ground, chaos erupted. Guards poured from the buildings, weapons trained on our position. I reached out with my magic, feeling the network of vines and roots threading through the compound, my fingers twitching as power gathered beneath my skin. They responded eagerly, hungry for violence after years of suppression.
"Now!" Sebastian roared, and shifted.
I'd seen him transform before, but never like this—never with such speed and fury. Bones cracked and reformed with sounds that made my stomach turn, his features sharpening into something between man and wolf, claws gleaming like silver knives. He launched himself at the nearest guards with a savagery that stole my breath even as it sent a thrill of dark satisfaction through me.
Fuck yes. Let them feel what terror tastes like.
I didn't have time to watch. Vines erupted from the ground at my command, whipping through the air to entangle guards, to disarm them, to drag them down screaming. Selene was beside me, her magic flaring as she sent waves of frost across the concrete. The Onyx Guard and Nocturne members moved in coordinated strikes.
We fought our way forward, meter by bloody meter, and I felt every death like a pulse against my consciousness—not guilt, not yet, but a grim tally I'd reckon with later. Sebastian carved a path through the defenders with brutal efficiency, his partially shifted form giving him impossible strength and speed. Every few seconds his eyes would find mine, checking, confirming I was still standing. And every time our gazes met, something fierce flashed in his expression—a promise that nothing would touch me while he drew breath.
The entrance to sublevel seven loomed ahead, but guards had formed a defensive line with heavy weapons. I could see massive steel doors beginning to descend, designed to seal the lower levels.
"The doors!" I screamed, my voice raw. "Sebastian, they're closing!"
He saw them, calculated distances with preternatural speed, and made his decision in a heartbeat. "Marcus! Breach charges on the hydraulics—now!" His voice carried the absolute authority of an Alpha in combat, brooking no argument.
Marcus didn't hesitate, throwing himself toward the door mechanism with explosive charges while Sebastian provided covering fire. The charges detonated with a sharp crack, and the descending doors shuddered, grinding to a halt with their hydraulic systems destroyed. Not open, but frozen—giving us a narrow window.
"Go!" Sebastian bellowed, already moving to hold the defensive line. "Get them out—I'll buy you time!"
Selene grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise, pulling me toward the gap. I wanted to stay, to help him, but the only way to help was to complete the mission fast. We plunged through the opening, and I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste copper to keep from looking back at Sebastian throwing himself between us and an entire platoon of Foundation soldiers.
The corridor beyond reeked of disinfectant and suffering, and bile rose in my throat. I could feel them now—one hundred eighty-seven souls pulsing weakly in the darkness below. My people. My responsibility. My failure for not coming sooner.
We ran through the maze of passages, following that sense deeper, my boots pounding against concrete. Behind us, gunfire echoed—Sebastian and his team holding the line, buying us minutes we desperately needed with their own blood.
When we burst into the holding area, the sight drove the air from my lungs and made my knees buckle. Cells upon cells, crammed with elven prisoners in various states of deterioration. Some looked up as we entered, their eyes hollow and hopeless. Others didn't have the strength to move.
"Oh god," I whispered, my hand flying to my mouth. "Oh fuck, oh fuck—"
"Open everything," I commanded, my voice steadier than I felt, though my hands were shaking so badly I had to clasp them together. "All the cells. Now."
Selene worked on the electronic locks, her fingers flying across the control panel. One by one, cell doors clicked open. The prisoners emerged slowly, uncertainly, as if they couldn't quite believe what was happening.
"Your Highness?" an elderly elf whispered, his silver eyes widening. "Is it really—"
"It's real," I said firmly, moving among them even as my vision blurred with tears I couldn't afford to shed. Not now. Not yet. "We're getting you out. Can you walk?"
Many could, though they were weak and stumbling. But some—the ones who'd been here longest, who'd been drained most thoroughly—could barely lift their heads. I knelt beside a young woman whose breathing came in shallow gasps, placing my hand on her forehead with fingers that trembled. Moonlight magic flowed through me, not enough to heal completely but enough to stabilize, to give her strength to move.
"Selene, start evacuating the mobile ones," I ordered, moving to the next critical case, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. "I'll stabilize anyone too weak to walk."
We worked with desperate efficiency, and I poured magic into broken body after broken body until my own limbs felt like lead. The evacuation proceeded in waves—first those who could walk with support, then those who needed to be carried, each group guided by Nocturne operatives through the chaos above. My magic burned through me in a constant stream, pushing me to the edge of exhaustion, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.
Through the facility's dying comms system, I caught fragments of Sebastian's voice coordinating his team, organizing the defensive perimeter, his tone clipped and controlled even as the sounds of combat intensified. Every burst of gunfire made my chest constrict, every explosion sent ice through my veins, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Trust him to do his job. Do yours.
Finally, only one prisoner remained—a teenage boy who'd been unconscious when we'd arrived. I'd stabilized him, but he was still too weak to walk. Selene moved to help, but I shook my head, my breath coming in harsh pants. "Get to the helicopter. I'll bring him."
"Lirael—"
"Go!" I commanded, using every bit of royal authority I possessed even as my arms shook. "That's an order."
She hesitated, then nodded and ran. I gathered the boy in my arms, surprised by how light he was—too light, bones prominent under papery skin. Rage burned through my exhaustion like acid. They'd done this. The Foundation had reduced a child to this fragile shell.