Page 51 of A Court of Wings and Shadows

Zander sat straighter. “That’s not possible. The Blood Fae are infertile. They’ve been for generations, one of the reasons they seek immortality.”

“Exactly,” Cordelle murmured, fingers still pressed to the text. “Which means either the prophecy is flawed… or something has changed.”

Or… someone lied.

My thoughts spun, pieces beginning to slot together too fast, too loud.

Stormborn. Flame-gifted. Marked by ruin.

A child ofboththrones.

Dark and Light.

The impossible made flesh.

Zander’s gaze flicked to me, too sharp, too knowing.

But I was already staring at the prophecy again. At that last line.

If chosen, they shall rule or ruin all.

“I think it’s Seraveth.”

“Who is that?” Zander asked.

“Kaelith’s first rider. She is related to the Blood King and she is a Storm Reaper. Just a much more powerful one.”

The room had grown darker as the sun dropped beyond the hills, the only light now coming from the small crystal attached to a wall sconce. Its glow flickered like dragon flame, casting pale-gold across the pages scattered before us.

I sat beside Cordelle, eyes still fixed on the ancient prophecy while the others gathered close.

“We need to talk about Seraveth,” I said, voice low but certain.

Cordelle looked up. “The Blood King’s general?”

“She wasn’t always,” I said. “All Dark Fae began as Light. The Blood Court was born from corruption, not creation. Seraveth was once like them. Like us. She chose darkness… or it claimed her.”

Zander’s eyes narrowed. “If the prophecy speaks of a ‘Stormborn’ rising to rule or ruin the kingdom, then she fits half that description.”

“She’s powerful,” I agreed. “She was one of the first to steal a dragon egg and force a bond… that makes her part of this. She might be the one who ruins us.”

Cordelle tapped his fingers against the edge of the book. “But the prophecy talks about a child of both thrones. Not just darkness. Not just light. Someone between.”

“But what if she was meant to be that child?” Zander asked. “What if she was the first attempt, the one who failed?”

The silence settled like ash over the room.

I rubbed at my arms, chilled despite the closeness of the others. “Has any Dark Fae ever been brought back into the Light?”

Cordelle shook his head slowly. “Not in any recorded history I’ve found. The transformation is considered permanent, once the magic binds to blood and bone, it consumes the Light. That’s how the Blood King maintains control. Through permanence.”

“But what if it’s not?” I asked quietly. “What if no one’s tried? What if Seraveth is more than we think? What if she remembers who she was?”

Zander straightened from the wall. “Then that makes her even more dangerous.”

“Or more important,” I said.

Because if someone like her could be brought back?—