Page 29

KAIA

I don’t trust the woods.

Too quiet. Too dark. Every crunch of dried leaves under my boots feels like it echoes across the goddamn world.

Elias moves ahead of me, loose and lethal, his long frame a whisper against the trees. He hasn’t said much since we left the old tunnels hours ago, just that he knew a way to the hidden prison where his father’s being kept.

And that he needed to make a call.

He pulls a burner phone from his jacket, flipping it open like a man about to detonate a bomb. His fingers are steady, though his shoulders are tight enough to snap.

I hang back, arms crossed, pretending not to eavesdrop. (I’m totally eavesdropping.)

“Mother,” he says, voice low and hard.

A long silence stretches. Then a voice, faint but razor-sharp, cuts through the stillness. I can’t make out the words, but whatever she says, it slams the tension even tighter into his frame.

“He’s alive,” Elias grits out. “They have him. And we’re getting him out.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

Then Elias's mouth twists in something that might be pain. “You’re closer than I think? What the hell does that mean?”

He listens. Jaw tight. Then without warning, he snaps the phone shut and pockets it, eyes flicking to mine like he forgot I was there.

“You good?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. Like my heart isn’t beating a goddamn drumline against my ribs.

He nods once. “We camp here tonight. Tomorrow we move."

The fire crackles between us, small and sharp, barely enough to keep the cold at bay.

Elias sits cross-legged on the other side, sharpening a wicked-looking dagger, his hands moving with a methodical, almost meditative rhythm. The light catches on his features—stone-cut jaw, high cheekbones, dark hair spilling loose around his face—and something inside me twists hard.

He’s beautiful. In that raw, feral way that should come with warning signs and barbed wire.

And I’m such a fucking idiot because I’m falling for him harder every goddamn day.

I wrap my arms around my knees, staring into the flames, trying to shove down the chaos in my chest.

That's when I feel it.

That shift in the air. Like gravity tilting sideways.

I snap my head up just as a figure materializes out of the trees like a living nightmare—tall, elegant, and radiating danger so thick it makes my teeth ache.

Velara Vorn.

Elias’s mother.

And holy shit, if Elias is a storm, she’s a goddamn hurricane.

Ashen skin, silver eyes that could slice through steel, long dark hair braided down her back like a whip. She moves with a grace that’s inhuman, every step calculated, predatory, like she’s sizing up the world and finding it lacking.

She doesn't acknowledge me at first. Her gaze zeroes in on Elias like he’s a puzzle she’s trying to solve.

"My son," she murmurs, voice velvet-wrapped steel.

"Mother," Elias says, standing slowly, the wariness bleeding into every line of his body.

There’s a beat—a thick, brittle beat—then she crosses the distance and presses a kiss to his forehead. Strange. Intimate. Chilling. A queen greeting her heir... or maybe a general marking her soldier.

Then her eyes snap to me.

"And who," she says, voice sweet as cyanide, "is this?"

I rise to my feet, spine straight. No way in hell I’m cowering.

"Kaia Draven," I say, voice steady even though my insides are coiling tight. "I’m with him."

Velara’s lips curve, but it’s not a smile. It's a goddamn challenge, an unspoken dare to prove I'm worthy of the breath I’m wasting.

"Ah," she purrs. "The half-blood. The Order's prodigal daughter. I’ve heard… whispers."

I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms to stay calm. Stay sharp.

"You look fragile," Velara says, tilting her head like she’s examining an interesting stain on expensive silk. "Pretty. But fragile. Tell me, girl—do you really think you’re strong enough to walk beside him? Strong enough to survive the war that's coming?"

I don’t blink. Don’t flinch. My voice is steady, even though my heart’s trying to beat its way out of my damn chest.

"I’m stronger than I look," I say flatly.

Her smile widens, sharp and hungry.

"I would hope so," she says. "Because I came out of hiding for this moment. I came to see you , Kaia."

A beat. My breath catches.

"Why?" I demand.

Velara's gaze cuts through me like a dagger. "Because if you are to stand with him— my son —you must be tested. We cannot afford weakness in this bloodline. Not now. Not ever."

Before I can react, she moves.

Too fast for a human eye to track, but I feel it—that shimmer in the air, that predatory snap of intent, the weight of her power crashing toward me like a tidal wave.

She lashes out, a whip-crack of raw magic aimed straight at my chest.

Instinct kicks in. I slam my hand out, catching the blow midair with a surge of something wild and golden sparking to life inside me.

Sparks fly, golden light spilling between our hands where they meet, burning hotter than fire.

For a second, just a second, Velara’s eyes narrow—not with anger, but with something almost like... grudging approval.

Or maybe just deeper, darker curiosity.

I hold my ground, teeth gritted, my whole body trembling from the impact but refusing to fall.

"I will not break," I bite out, voice low and fierce.

"You might," Velara whispers, almost gleeful. "But perhaps that's the point."

She draws back slowly, satisfaction gleaming in her silver eyes.

Elias steps between us before she can strike again, his body a wall of lean muscle and protective fury. His voice is a low growl, lethal and vibrating through the clearing.

"Enough."

Velara raises a perfect brow, utterly unbothered. "Testing her is necessary. If she cannot withstand me, she cannot withstand what’s coming."

"She's not yours to test," Elias growls.

Something unspoken crackles between them—years of battles fought behind closed doors, in shadows and whispers and blood.

Velara’s gaze softens, just slightly, as she studies him.

"You think I want her to fail?" she murmurs. "You think I want to lose you ?"

Elias stiffens.

Velara steps back, folding her arms across her chest, a queen surveying her battered court.

"I tested her because weakness in our line," she says, voice like a blade, "must be cleansed . Rooted out. It is the old way, the true way. Strength must be proven, not assumed. If Kaia is too fragile, too na?ve... she will not survive what is to come. And her fall will drag you down with her."

I bite down hard on the instinct to snarl at her. To tell her where she can shove her goddamn old ways.

Instead, I lift my chin.

"I’m not fragile," I say again, stronger this time. "And I’m not going anywhere."

Velara studies me for a long, chilling moment.

She nods.

"A storm brews, daughter of Fae and mortal," she says. "You will either weather it... or you will be consumed."

Without another word, she turns and melts into the woods, her presence fading like a nightmare at dawn—but not gone. Never gone.

The tension in the clearing is so thick it’s like breathing smoke.

I sag a little, finally letting the adrenaline crash hit me, but I catch myself before I fall.

Elias turns to me, those molten-gold eyes full of things he doesn't say out loud.

"You held your ground," he says roughly.

"Yeah," I rasp. "Barely."

He steps closer, his hand ghosting over my arm like he's checking for cracks, for damage.

"You did good, Kaia. You okay?" he mutters, hands hovering like he wants to touch me but doesn’t know where to start.

I nod, throat tight. "Yeah. Just... tired of being tested."

His mouth twitches—a grim, almost-grin.

"Get used to it," he says. "Everyone’s gonna want a piece of you now."

"Let ‘em try," I say, and the fire in my gut is real, burning brighter than fear.

Elias steps closer, so close our bodies brush. His fingers graze mine, a whisper of a touch.

"You scare the shit out of me sometimes," he murmurs.

"Good," I whisper back, and somehow, somehow, we’re smiling.

We stand there, in the ruined quiet, breathing the same broken air.