Page 58

Amaia

S o this was it, I guess. The beginning to the end.

We’d followed the Mississippi south, keeping to the safe side of the river until we found ourselves across from what was once small town Kentucky. Hickman to be exact. According to the child who was leading the way, this was the weakest point—where we had our best shot at breaching Covert’s borders. Lilia’s family had crossed here, and if we had any luck left in the universe, it would remain an easy post to access.

Tomoe and Lola were opposite sides of the same Seer coin. Their eyes flickered, one with pupils hazed with white, the other with nothing but black coal filling their sockets. It was never a comfortable feeling being in Lola’s presence when you knew what she was capable of—that didn’t mean I didn’t admire the hell out of her. She was powerful and ruthless, but kind when it mattered.

Kind, not gentle. There was importance in the distinction.

They joined hands with Lilia, essentially astral projecting by power sharing—channeling Lilia’s gifts. It wasn’t something they did often during this journey. It was draining and dangerous. Lilia’s presence was their only anchor—without her, they would not be able to navigate breaking through the wards.

The room stood still as soldiers watched in fascination, the two women and small child at the center of it all. Power hummed beneath the surface of Lilia’s pale skin. She was the only one who could truly see Covert’s machinations for what they were. The wards didn’t touch her memory the way it had others. She held the knowledge—the places and paths—she was not replaceable though it made it no easier to involve someone her age.

“The wards are still intact,” Lilia murmured after a moment, her raven colored hair falling across her face, voice flat. “But it’s clear for now.”

Tomoe’s hands trembled from her power being absorbed. “The border hasn’t changed. We’re comparing it to them, and the connection of the mind of a young boy she met that resides nearby. It’s the same entry point as before—there are civilians within the vicinity.”

“Dios mío,” Lola murmured, her face neutral, though the uncertainty and shock hid beneath the surface. “My coven … I believe we can carve a path. We’ll need to channel through Lilia. Her gift gives us a clear way forward. With Sage’s assistance?—”

She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Sage’s power is intricate, delicate, not suited for brute force. She can see the structure of the wards—threads of memory and intent woven into the air itself. Her ability allows her to unravel a small part, just enough to carve a temporary safe passage. But only if we move carefully.”

Hunter went mute, nodding and though Lola could not see him, she carried on, expression grave. “If no one strays from the set path, we can move through without triggering the memory wipe. It’s a tight window, Amaia. We’ll need to move quickly. Large groups.”

I clenched my jaw as I glanced at Lilia. She was only a kid. Kneeling before her, I caught her blank stare. “You don’t have to do this.”

The words felt sour. Could I truly offer her an out? It would damn a hell of a lot of people all for the sake of one. Lola and Tomoe released their grip on her, coming out of whatever dream-like world they’d walked.

Lilia shook her head fiercely, eyes coming back into focus. “I’m the only one who can. If I don’t, you’ll all forget. You’ll—” She swallowed at the sharp look from Lola. Slowly, she forced herself to meet my gaze. “I can do it.”

I studied her for a long moment, before nodding. It was her choice. Her decision. But she’s just a child , that small voice screamed at me from the back of my head. I couldn’t help but think it sounded a hell of a lot like Jax.

“All right.” I scanned the faces around the room. “You heard her. No straying, no hesitation. We stay on Lilia’s path, or we don’t make it. Understood?”

Riley’s fingers twitched against his thigh. They traced that same faint, erratic pattern I’d come to recognize as nerves. A habit he did not realize he had, but I noticed it every damn time.

“Okay,” I said, as I moved toward the table a few steps away—deciding to take their silence as an indication to keep talking before they all threw up their nerves.

The war tent was dim, shadows pooling in the corners, the single lamp swaying faintly as if it, too, could sense the unease. Generals and senior officers crowded around the table. The map spread across glared up at me, every line and marking a taunt. My voice was steady as I laid out the plan—splitting into two groups, fighting our way in.

My team would head northeast, skirting the river through West Virginia into Virginia, while Riley’s would go southeast. His team would draw the bulk of Ronan’s forces—hopefully … if all went to plan. As long as Ronan thought I was with him, which we were banking on.

It wasn’t a new plan—I’d walked through it so many times that the words felt hollow now, like repeating a prayer I no longer believed in. But the next part wasn’t about strategy; it was about risk. My risk.

The air in the tent thickened as I said it. “I’ll cross the wards first and a smaller unit can follow my tail.”

Riley’s expression hardened, and Alexiares muttered a slew of vulgar language. Their eyes locked on me, then flicked to each other, silent protests etched across their faces. I pushed forward, pretending not to notice.

“The wards are too unpredictable to send everyone at once. If we trip them, the memories of every soldier will be fucked and so will anyone that follows. If I go first, I can test them. Lilia’s power can anchor me enough to pull back if something goes wrong.”

The generals exchanged concerned glances, but none of them challenged me. Slowly, they filtered out, only my family remained. Their stares pinned me in place, heavy with something worse than doubt—expectation. Like they were already bracing for the inevitable. No one said it out loud, but it was clear the way Riley’s hands curled into fists, in the tight set of Alexiares’s shoulders. Waiting for me to break. Waiting for me to give in.

I refused to give them that.

This was happening. Whether they could accept it or not.

“Can you all please stop looking at me like I’m about to die,” I grumbled, reviewing the map one last time.

“Since no one else here wants to hear you bark back if this is said, I’ll say it for them,” Serenity snapped, cutting through the tension. Her arms crossed over her chest. “The route you’ve chosen to take puts you—and the rest of us by default—in a vulnerable position.”

“Someone has to go first,” I said even as my chest tightened. “We can’t afford to lose numbers to the wards. If it works, we move the others in waves. If it doesn’t?—”

“You lose it all,” Alexiares said bluntly, his eyes dark and unflinching. “And the rest of us are left leaderless, stranded in hostile territory.”

Tomoe’s gaze burned into mine. “It places you into a direct line of fire. Repeatedly.”

“I’m not sitting this one out.” I snapped, though the weight of their stares was unbearable. I traced the map with my fingertips, finding the routes I’d already memorized. “It would be in poor taste to ask my soldiers to do something their general would not. They’ve risked enough, I won’t force them to lose that last part of their humanity if it goes wrong.”

“I don’t know much about this military stuff and all, but I’m almost positive the person at the top isn’t supposed to be, you know,” Reina shifted, her brows furrowing as she glanced at the others and made a vague gesture. “Out there and actually doing stuff.”

“Out there and actually doing stuff,” I muttered with a dry laugh, shaking my head.

Alexiares stepped closer, his hand brushing my lower back—a steadying touch that should’ve calmed me. It didn’t. Instead, it felt off. Disingenuous. My chest burned hotter when I met his eyes. They were filled with something I couldn’t ignore. Concern in the rawest of states. His mask had dropped, no filter or resemblance of the Bloodhound . The only person staring back at me, was a man weakened by love.

I hated it. Because it made me weak too. Made my stone-hardened mold I’d been forming over my heart for months, melt away.

The sting hit deep, and I jerked back, my pulse racing with frustration. “I started this war, and I’m going to be the one to stare Ronan in the eyes when it ends.”

“That’s a perfectly reasonable request,” Riley said, and for a second, hope flickered. Then he crushed it. “You can do that when Lola portals us into the city center. It would be irresponsible to allow you to engage beforehand.”

“So what? You wanna take my place? Put yourself in the line of fire?” My voice rose an octave and Riley arched a dismissive brow.

“We are not having this conversation again,” he said, dismissing me with a pointed glance at the others.

“You’re right,” I snapped. “We aren’t because my decision is final.”

The walls closed in with each breath I took. Their eyes trailed me in the suffocating cramped space of this stupid fucking war tent. My skin buzzed. Too hot. Too tight—like the magic inside me was about to free itself whether I was a willing participant or not. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t stay still.

I needed to move, to do something, anything to release the pressure. I lost control. I spun, grabbing the edge of a chair, throwing it across the space.

“Fuck!” The word ripped out of me as the chair clattered to the ground. “I’m doing my best here. Okay? You’re all already so … involved.”

My voice cracked, and I yanked at the braids framing my face. “I didn’t ask any of you not to serve your purpose in this war for the sake of my heart. Don’t ask me to sacrifice mine.”

The silence in the tent was suffocating. The faint creak of the lamp swinging above us was the only sound.

Reina shattered the stillness, her voice low but fierce. “Tell her, Alexiares.”

“Reina …” There was a warning in Abel’s tone—one that said Reina was about to do everything but mind her own fucking business.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she stepped forward, her eyes burning with a mix of fury and sorrow. “Hear what your fiancé thinks of you putting your life on the line every time we turn around. Tell her how I’ve had to use my magic 24/7 because the anxiety has eaten away at you so much you can barely function. The man eats and breathes fear for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Fear for you . Your safety.”

Alexiares’s jaw clenched, his gaze hard as steel as he stared her down. But then his eyes shifted to mine, and I wished he hadn’t because I knew it would never change. As much as it broke my heart, my duties outweighed the life I desperately wanted the two of us to share. I had warned him that I could not give him what he deserved and now the reality of it was shattering the heart that I swore we shared.

“Uh … congratulations?” Serenity muttered awkwardly.

I hadn’t exactly walked around flaunting my ring. Screaming from the rooftops that I was his in the most precious way possible. There were people out there that would hold such a permanence of a title against me—use him against me.

“Not really the time,” Hunter said, pulling his rifle over his shoulder and nudging her toward the exit.

“Why?” she shot back, but she followed him anyway. “Show’s just getting started.”

Hunter squeezed Reina on the shoulder on the way out, her head briefly resting against his shoulder before she kissed it, wishing him a good rest of his night.

She turned back to me, voice wavering, but the storm in her eyes never faltered. “We’re trying to save you, Amaia. If you’d just let us have an opinion …” Her eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall, but the fury still burned hot in them. “I can’t do this anymore—watching you throw yourself into the center of every risk or battle. Please, let us help.”

“Save me?” I laughed—bitter, cruel. It felt wrong in my heart and my mind but came out on reflex. “Sorry for being a burden. I’m trying to save you and the whole damn world, apparently, at the same time. I didn’t ask for you to save me. I’m doing my job . I’m protecting our family. But I can’t do that if you keep questioning every damn move and try to make me feel guilty for doing what I’m oathbound to. Seth is dead! Seth is dead, and Abel’s arm—” I choked on the words, my voice cracking. “In the middle of an apocalypse, I’m still fighting for you all, and you want to pull me back? To not take risks. You think that’s saving me?”

“We never asked for you to save us either.” Abel paused, his gaze the only soft one in the room. “I get it, man, it’s what family does, we save each other. All I’m seeing here are people who love each other and want the best. And it’s not easy watching you march into danger every damn time, knowing what it costs. Tomoe and I are … sensitive to those things, Reina can feel it whether we express it or not, and Alexiares is forced to watch it all play out in real time. I think … I think you can find it in you to see what it’s like for the rest of us too. What it’s like to live with that fear, not knowing if you’ll come back from the next fight.”

The room was impossibly still. I could hear my own heart pounding, a beat that echoed in my ears.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You didn’t ask,” I said quietly, the words burning as they left my mouth, “but it was implied the day I met you. The day I called you my brothers and sisters.”

Alexiares hadn’t spoken a word. Didn’t offer anything. His eyes were locked on mine, but I couldn’t read him—not this time. It was a wall of concern, one I couldn’t tear down.

We needed to talk, but it was a conversation to be had later. In the privacy of our tent. A fight between lovers that did not need the audience of the world.

The silence stretched between us, and the weight of his stillness gnawed at my gut. It was deafening, louder than anything anyone had said. The others seemed to sense it, their reactions as volatile as the air around us.

Tomoe shifted her weight, crossing one leg over the other from her seat. “We’re not going anywhere until we’ve said what needs to be said, Amaia.” Her eyes flickered briefly to Alexiares, who remained unmoving, then back to me. “You can’t brush this off. Not this time.”

Reina’s anger matched Tomoe’s, layered with something else—a desperation. “You’re pushing us all to the edge. Can’t you see how much we’re bleeding for you? For your decisions?” She stepped forward, hands shaking. “We’re not asking you to stop fighting. Only begging you to stop shutting us out.”

I flinched, opening my mouth, ready to argue, but the words died before they could escape. They were right. Didn’t mean I was ready to admit it. It was easier this way. In hindsight, my family would understand—they were better off not knowing all the facts. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

The tension in the room ebbed, but it didn’t disappear. Not entirely.

Then I turned to Riley, needing something—anything to break the silence. “No goodbyes?”

He met my eyes without hesitation. No judgment. No pity. Just that steady, unwavering strength I relied on. “Never goodbye.”

The others moved toward the tent, the weight of exhaustion settling over them. No lingering animosity. No unfinished business. They were too tired to hold on to anything more.

I stayed behind, frozen in place. The silence pressed down, a heavy hand louder than the war raging in my head, louder than everything I hadn’t said.

Alexiares still hadn’t said a damn thing. When I made it to the tent that night, he pretended to be asleep.

The Mississippi River churned steel-gray water as water elementals merged with the forces of nature to freeze our rather—but understandably—hesitant troops a safe crossing. Sky and water matched each other, the murky gray matching the overcast mood of every soul moving in this army. It was late afternoon, the ash-tainted clouds sprinkled soft, persistent snowflakes down from above.

I swiped my hand over my soaked eyelids, the snow not giving me a chance to clearly see what we were working with. The Dorena-Hickman Ferry lay frozen in time. Its hull rested half-submerged against the Missouri shore.

There was an uneasy silence between the puffs of breaths as the troops awaited my command. We’d been prepared for the change of weather but with only half of the men and women here accustomed to cold climates, this would present us with a new test of adaptability. No more fires. No more chances for additional warmth from this point on.

Across the river, the outline of Hickman, Kentucky, rose as a faint image against the swirling snow. From what I could tell it was nothing more than a skeletal silhouette of crumbling stone.

I waved us on and we began our slow approach across. It took every ounce of self-control not to turn back. From here, our group would officially split into two—Riley and Hunter’s hanging back a day. With their force being the smaller of the two and taking the brunt of Ronan’s forces down the line, it was essential they avoided any initial skirmishes. But without Elliot, there was no longer a way to stay connected, to know what was happening with Riley and Abel. The only thing I could do was hope that my plans continued to work out.

I had to admit—there were some nerves leading up to approaching the wards. Yes, I’d thought things through when I’d volunteered myself. No, I had not considered how heavy the decision would drain me when the time came.

I didn’t want to forget. The beautifully painful life I had lived. The love I had found in every form, carved from sorrow and grief.

Memory loss was only part of the risk. For months, I had conserved my magic, waging my flames carefully. They simmered beneath my skin, desperate for release, the pressure of restraint pressing in from all sides. I was lucky I hadn’t gone mad.

Once I crossed this border, it was air magic and weapons only. Restraint and control—my only allies now.

Each soldier had orders to conserve their magic. If we came across any Covert troops with numbers that put us at a disadvantage, we’d toss our shields up. Thing was, there was a 100 percent chance Ronan had similar technology—which meant both sides would spend time breaking through them.

Wasting magic unnecessarily could mean running out under less than desirable circumstances. And as much as I hated to say it, not everyone here had magic to spare. They all fought honorably, but when it came to a number on the power scale, some would run out before others.

Our shields would have as many layers as responsibly possible for the fight at hand. With the uncertainty on all things Covert and Ronan, our best chance was for our troops to catch them off guard—something that would be incredibly hard to do the second they realized we’d successfully breached their wards. If I had to guess, Ronan knew we were close, but had confidence that once we crossed, we’d have no recollection on who we were, let alone our mission. The second our presence was sensed, the territory would go on alert and scouts would be everywhere. That meant trouble.

Static pulsed through the air, the electric warning to back the fuck up getting stronger the nearer we drew. From where we stood, it was a vast nothingness stretching ahead.

Fingers brushed against mine—the only indication of intimacy Alexiares had dared to provide since Reina had made a confession on his behalf. I paused when the pushback from the invisible wall of wards became overwhelming. Here . Curtains and layers of black hung off Lola’s wiry frame as she made her way to my side, Lilia in hand.

I ran through the plan internally once more. Me first, testing the wards, then a small strike team under my command would follow, securing the path before Reina’s cavalry unit moved in to escort the civilians. Once they were clear, the main force would advance in staggered formations, maintaining steady intervals to avoid bottlenecks or conflict with civilians.

“Ready for another one of your stupid plans?” Tomoe asked, appearing next to Alexiares, her focus torn between me and the world beyond the wards.

“Always,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could force. She rolled her eyes, muttering something barely audible, but a twitch at the corner of her lips hinted at a smile she was trying to hide.

The weather outside might have been frightening but so was the temperature building underneath my weatherproof coat. Sage approached with the brujas in tow.

I had an audience now. Thousands of soldiers spanned into the distance, a sea of bodies flanking both sides of the river.

The coven joined hands with Tomoe and Sage, forming a loose circle with Lilia at the cusp of the wards. Their magic was raw and wild, gifted by a world broken and reforged in chaos. Sparks of energy crackled at their feet.

Low murmurs filled the air, building into a chant. The cadence was sharp. Rhythmic. Laced with Latin that commanded the wards to obey.

Lola tilted her head, her midnight eyes locking onto mine with an unnerving stillness. “It is time.”

Sniffling, I nodded in response, fingers clenching and unclenching as I carefully placed well practiced bravado into my features. When I felt steady enough to get on with the show, I approached Lilia, wanting to express more gratitude than words could find me at the moment. Instead, I kept it as simple as I could, “Thank you.”

“Free my people, Amaia.” The connotation of her tone was from someone wiser beyond the years they had lived. “Make the suffering stop.”

A brave little girl who had seen far too much. What a sad reality it was for more than I was comfortable thinking of in a time like this—now was the time to make sure the suffering of many, ended here.

Her lips curved in a faint smile, and she pressed a hand to her chest in acknowledgment. Around us, the wards let out a deep groan, the sound of something ancient and impenetrable beginning to fracture.

Alexiares loomed over me, his expression carved from stone, every ounce of vulnerability locked away. But there it was—the smallest crack. A flicker in his hazelnut eyes as he leaned in, close enough to draw in my scent, his breath brushing against my cheek. His hands moved with deliberate care, tightening the holster on my thigh. Without a word, he slid one of his knives into the narrow gap, the cool steel a quiet reassurance.

“Right behind you, Princess,” he murmured.

The wards crackled as I stepped through, the sharp static slicing through the roaring thunder of my heartbeat. One moment, I could hear the muffled rustle of troops behind me; the next, silence pressed against my ears. The world on the other side wasn’t just different—it was unnervingly wrong. The air was heavier, the light dimmer, and the town stretched out in eerie stillness.

My pulse quickened as I scanned my surroundings. Hickman, Kentucky—or what was left of it—lay in eerie silence. A ghost town. Buildings leaned under the weight of decay, their windows empty sockets staring back at me. The streets, littered with debris, looked untouched by human hands for years. But it was a lie.

Fresh footprints were everywhere. Overlapping paths of crisscrossed steps that went all the way down the dust-covered streets. They went deep, as though someone had been running. My skin prickled, every nerve screaming the same warning: we were being watched.

I reached for the knife Alexiares had given me, my fingers brushing its hilt. A small amount of comfort after willingly thrusting myself into the unknown. You’re a fucking genius, Amaia. Dumbass , I scolded myself.

A flash of movement caught the corner of my eye. I pivoted, knife at the ready, but it was only a piece of cloth swaying in the breeze, caught on a bent street sign. The unease didn’t lift.

On the bright side, my memory was still intact. The wards hadn’t taken them from me, which meant at least one piece of this plan was holding together. For now.

“Come on,” I whispered, the words meant as much for myself as for the invisible enemy I knew was out there. “Let’s play.”

The ground vibrated faintly behind me, a presence I knew without turning. Alexiares.

He stepped through the wards, the tension in his frame snapping into sharp focus the moment he crossed the boundary. “ Fuck this ,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the eerie surroundings. Alexiares sensed it too.

His shadow stretched alongside mine as he moved closer. “I couldn’t see you,” his voice was rough, low—feral.

I turned slightly, catching that raw vulnerability glinting in his honey eyes. “ They could, but not me. It still wasn’t enough until I set eyes on you myself.”

His words stole mine. Rip my fucking heart out why don’t you? The wards rippled behind us, and the cavalry unit poured through. Millie and Reina came first, their weapons ready, scanning the shadows with that synchronized precision they’d easily slipped into. Tomoe and Finley followed close behind, their movements quiet—equally deliberate. The two of them had been assigned into Isabella’s support ground unit for the cavalry. One by one, our first wave of troops fanned out into defensive positions. They sensed it too. The wrongness. The weight of a thousand unseen eyes pressing in on us.

I clenched my fists, forcing a steadiness into my voice as I moved to each of the unit leaders. “We stick to the plan. This isn’t the time to fall apart.”

They nodded, the same unspoken understanding passing through them. No one argued, no one hesitated.

We moved out, pushing to secure the perimeter. Troops filed through the wards in waves. The bulk of our soldiers were still trapped behind the border—we needed to make space.

The more ground we cleared, the easier it would be for Riley’s troops to get through tomorrow. I clung to that thought. Ground myself to it. Riley would make it home. To Yasmin. To his child. He had the most to lose yet he risked so much in honor of a promise he’d made, that I no longer held him to. He could not fail me. He never would.

It took nearly an hour to secure the area. There were signs of life—footprints too fresh to ignore, scattered supplies abandoned mid-use, faint wisps of smoke still curling from extinguished fires.

People had been here. Moments from meeting us in the flesh.

But there was no one. Not a single fucking face nor a whisper of movement beyond our own.

Every step tightened the knot in my stomach. We weren’t alone.

We were being watched.