Page 63

Reina

W e had to keep going, had to trust that whatever Amaia’s plan was, would work. Who knows what went on in that girl’s mind. All I knew was that it usually worked out. That made maintaining the mission goal a priority, to ensure it all worked out.

The devastation was immediate. A brutal kind of chaos that left one little room to think. Building buckled under relentless fire, brought not of magic, but innovation. Tomás was terrifyingly brilliant. I wanted to see his work at play, sit and view it in fascination. There was no time for that, however, and as wondrous his mind was—it was deadly. Debris rained down around us in choking clouds.

It was a muted crumble in comparison to the screams filling the air. The only other sound to cut through was the pounding hooves as Millie’s horse surged past me, her spear a blur. Beside her, Tomoe rode with precision, scanning the urban battlefield we’d thrust ourselves upon with calculating calm. If she was gonna be calm, then I would too.

Alexiares tore through anyone he deemed an enemy with the ferocity of a Bloodhound. The Bloodhound . His blade was a streak of silver in the haze of magic suppressing gas. He moved with feral intensity, his growls cutting through the buzz of battle. A shadow slipped through the openings of the battlefield—Riley’s strikes were swift and silent.

On the flanks, Hunter’s voice sliced through the bedlam. His team weaved through the melee as they shielded terrified civilians, guiding them toward the fallback point. Shields raised in an unbreakable line—Isabella Everhart’s soldiers. Flames burst to life along the perimeter, their heat distorting the air and forcing Covert soldiers to recoil. Civilians followed Hunter’s commands, moving along the sidewalks with wide eyes and stumbling, clinging to each other as they passed through. Was it wrong? That it brought me joy to see them shocked that war came to them.

The suppressant gas was thick now, a suffocating blanket that dulled the edge of magic in the air. Although we were immune to such a concoction, the souring smell hit me hard. “Focus on the children,” I told Moe as I pushed toward Moe, my hand out ready to join forces.

We extended our power, brushing against their minds with a soothing wave. They did not have to become the seed of which they were sewn. There was hope and happiness in their futures. You’re okay. Stay calm. Moe’s magic amplified mine, together, we opened the door to the vision—a new world.

They saw themselves running through the streets playing Mortals and Zombies, drenched in sunlight, laughing without fear. They experienced the cool breeze of a summer day, heard the hum of a community that valued them not for their power but for who they were at their core.

My magic wrapped around their emotions, letting them feel what had the potential to be real—joy so vivid it melted away all spite. Killed all ego. Tomoe guided their focus, weaving the details of a life that could be: dinners shared at long tables, safety that wasn’t earned through the power in their blood, love that was not conditional.

“What are you doing?”

“Stop it!”

“Please, don’t hurt them. They’re children.”

It was all background noise to me. The protests of people who honestly had no business parenting anyone. I silenced them—extending my power to send them a sense of calm they did not deserve. We were doing our best to limit the trauma if they would just give us a second.

“Reina!” Millie’s shout snapped me back. “You’re overextending!”

She was right. The strain was brutal. My brain hurt, but there were adults clawing at each other to reach their children, panicked and desperate. I stretched my power further, sedating one, then another, until my vision swam.

“We need you in one piece,” Moe said, her voice sharp. “Save it for the ones you care don’t suffer.”

Unfortunately, thanks to daddy dearest, that was true. I was the only healer here and responsible for the care of nearly a hundred. Holding a city this size was supposed to come with resources—but there was no one else to help, not here, not now. We had a healer shortage thanks to his literal war crime.

Luckily, the ones traveling with Riley, hadn’t suffered the same fate. There were no reinforcements coming. Not here, not now. The others were spread thin across the actual battlefield where the blood flowed thicker than here.

“Roger that,” I bit out, pulling my magic back with an effort.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Moe glancing toward the battle spilling further down the street. Her jaw clenched, her hand tightening on her reins. “We need to move them,” she murmured.

A sudden gust of wind slammed into us, cold and razor edged, scattering debris. It wasn’t natural. It was too controlled to come from mother nature. Dust and broken glass tore at my skin, and my horse reared, hooves striking the air as a panicked whinny escaped its throat. This wasn’t nature’s fury; it was too controlled.

“The air elementals Jessa warned us about,” I muttered, scanning the air around us. “They’re trying to disorient us.”

Alexiares’s voice carried across the street with desperation that nearly put me on my knees. “Amaia!”

It was not a question—it was a plea. A command to empty air, as though he expected the world itself to present her to him.

He called for her again, the words coming faster now, “Amaia, damn it, where are you?”

Alexiares knew she wasn’t here. We all knew.

I couldn’t see him through the smoke but he was close. I could feel the tension in the space between us, the primal need in his voice—a thread pulling tight, on the verge of snapping. He wasn’t asking for help. He searched, frantic, as though the idea of her being unreachable was unbearable. The panic was clear, the kind of emotion I was all too familiar with having the family I chose, but I never thought I’d hear it from him.

“Get a fucking grip right now.” I turned in time to see her press Wrath against Alexiares’s throat, her expression deadly calm. Riley hovered right beside them, pacing like a caged animal, his fists clenching and unclenching as though he might bolt after Amaia the moment Tomoe took her eyes off them.

The Bloodhound was unleashed, and the sheer ferocity of his fury sent a cold spike through my chest. He was a storm made flesh, eyes blazing with murderous intent. Even from here, his rage was suffocating.

“Don’t,” Tomoe growled, her eyes fixed on Alexiares. “She didn’t tell anyone what she was going to do, because she couldn’t . Ronan is watching for one of us—just fucking one—to slip up. That’s all it takes for this plan to fall apart.”

“She shouldn’t have to do this alone!” Alexiares snarled, his voice cracking under the weight of his fury.

“She’s not alone,” I snapped, cutting in before the argument spiraled further. “But if you go storming in like this, she will be. We stick to the plan, or we might as well hand my father the victory now.”

Riley stood rigid beside him, jaw clenched, hands balled at his sides, watching Tomoe with narrowed eyes, his body trembling with each strained exhale. He was barely holding it together. Ugh, boys. You’d think they knew something the rest of us didn’t. Amaia was fine and she would continue to be that way if they could stop being so dang emotional. We had a job to do and a specific amount of time to do it.

“It’s done, Tomoe,” Millie said, her voice cutting through the tension as she joined us. She knew when to push and when to hold back, and this moment was a family one she was best not to interrupt—but she did anyway. Boldly and fiercely.

Moe ground her teeth, Wrath still dangerously close to Alexiares’s carotid. She yanked it away, frustration curling in her posture as Alexiares snarled at her. He pushed himself free and found his composure—lethally scary composure, but he was calm now, nonetheless.

He swatted her hand away. “I’m fine.”

“We’re on the move,” Isabella called out over the disarray. They needed to clear out the adults now that we’d rounded up the kids. It wouldn’t be long before my father called reinforcements back to the city. We’d been left with the JV squad thus far. “See you at the rendezvous, good luck. It’s been fun, but let’s make sure this war is the last of it, yeah?”

Without hesitation, Moe swung up onto her horse, steadying herself on the reins. She moved to ride alongside me and I kicked my horse into motion. The pounding hooves on cobblestones echoed as we pushed through the streets, guiding the children through our established evacuation route—the battle behind us still creeping in. Lurking, following us with the promise of violence. Our tactical team was doing a dang good job engaging them. Hunter and his crew had kept them distracted, but that would only last for so long.

“Reina, don’t look,” Abel called out from up ahead, near the entrance of the park.

I narrowed my eyes, squinting in confusion, not sure what I wasn’t supposed to be looking at. Then I saw it.

My blood froze. The wind shifted, carrying with it a faint creak of rope swaying on the breeze, and my gaze locked onto the twisted oak tree standing sentinel over the horror. There, hanging akin to a broken doll, was Jessa.

Her lifeless body dangled from the rope, eyes wide and empty, staring at nothing. A sickeningly jagged sign swung beneath her, the words etched in cruel letters: Welcome, daughter.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. The sight of her, twisted and broken in such a careless, despicable manner … I had to swallow against the bile rising in my throat, but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. Nothing would. All I could do was stare at her.

Millie held steady with my pace, reaching for my hand with her free one. “Don’t,” she said softly, her voice firm but not unkind. “He wants you to break. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

I swallowed hard, tearing my eyes away from the scene. We had to keep moving, keep evacuating what children we could before the city went up in flames.