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A rumble of fury built in my chest. Callum's features had gone harsh with anger, and Archer's normally calm demeanor had darkened dangerously.

"I tried to fight it," Sierra continued. "I remembered what Gran taught me—about calling light in darkness." A flicker of pride settled on her face. "I managed to create a light, a small orb. It hurt the shadow, made it retreat, but only for a moment."

My heart swelled with pride at her strength, even as fear continued to gnaw at me. Sierra was powerful, yes, but she was still learning to control her abilities. Against an ancient evil like the shadow beast, would it be enough?

"Then what happened?" Archer asked.

"I ran," Sierra said simply. "I ran through the darkness, looking for a way out. I could hear your voices, all of you, calling for me." She turned her face into my neck, her lips brushing against my skin as she spoke. "I tried to reach you, but then... there was nothing beneath my feet. I was falling."

The memory of her body plummeting through the night air made my arms tighten around her again. If I'd been even a second slower...

"That must have been when you walked off the balcony," Callum said, his face grim. "Your body was acting out what you were experiencing in the dream."

Sierra's eyes widened in horror. "I could have killed myself without even knowing it."

"But you didn't," I said firmly, needing to hear the words as much as she needed to. "I caught you. You're safe."

She nodded, but the fear hadn't left her eyes. "What does it want from me?"

The question hung heavy in the air between us. What indeed? I had my suspicions—Sierra's power was unique, unlikeanything I'd seen in millennia of ruling the underworld. A power like hers would be irresistible to a creature of darkness.

"Did it say anything else?" Archer asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Anything that might give us a clue about its intentions or weaknesses?"

Sierra shook her head, then paused. "Wait. There was something... when I created the light." Her eyes narrowed in concentration. "It screamed. Not just in pain, but... like it was afraid. And there was a word, repeating in the darkness, but I couldn't quite hear it."

"Try to remember," I urged, running my hand soothingly up and down her back. "Even the smallest detail could help us."

She closed her eyes, her face scrunching in concentration. "Light... something about light. And a name, maybe?" Her eyes flew open suddenly. "Lightbringer! That's what it was. The word 'Lightbringer' was echoing in the darkness."

The word struck me like a physical blow. Beside us, Callum inhaled sharply, and Archer went completely still.

"Lightbringer," Archer repeated, his voice hollow. "You're sure that's what you heard?"

Sierra nodded, looking between us with growing concern. "What does it mean? Do you know something?"

I exchanged a long look with Callum and Archer, a silent communication born of centuries together. Lightbringer was not just a word—it was a weapon. A legendary blade forged to combat the darkest of evils, believed lost for millennia.

"It's a sword," Archer finally said, running his hand through his dark hair. "A weapon from ancient times, said to be capable of destroying even the most powerful darkness."

"Like the shadow beast," Sierra whispered, understanding dawning in her eyes.

"Exactly like the shadow beast," I confirmed grimly. "But the sword has been lost for thousands of years. If the beast fears itenough to let the name slip in your presence, then it must truly be vulnerable to it."

Callum's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "My ancestral sword has some similar properties. Even the name is similar. Perhaps there's a connection we haven't seen before. Didn't you say it looked similar when I showed you after I shared the nightmare with Sierra and was able to force it back?"

Archer stood abruptly, pacing the room with tightly-controlled energy. His daggers appeared in his hands—a nervous habit I'd observed countless times over the centuries. He twirled them expertly between his fingers as he thought. His blue eyes were intense as he looked at us. "I dismissed Lightbringer at the time, thought it was just another legend, but now..."

"We need to be sure," I said firmly. "If Lightbringer is our only hope of destroying the shadow beast permanently, we need to find it—or find out if Callum's sword is connected to it somehow."

Sierra shifted in my lap, her hand reaching up to cup my jaw. "You think this sword can really destroy it? End this nightmare for good?"

I leaned into her touch, allowing myself this small comfort. "If the beast fears it, then yes, I believe it can. You said that it was what was able to banish it before, so it stands to reason it has some connection."

Archer pulled at his hair in frustration, his daggers disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. "I'll go back to my quarters and consult the book again," he said, determination hardening his features. "I'll study the differences between Callum's sword and the depiction in the pages. There might be clues we missed before."

Callum nodded, rising to his feet. "I'll consult the books we have on hand. Perhaps handling it directly while comparing to the book will reveal something."

As they moved with purpose, I caught their eyes one final time. In that look, we shared an unspoken vow: the beast needed to die. Sierra would not spend another night in terror, would not come so close to death again. Whatever it took, whatever sacrifices were required, we would end this threat to our mate.