Page 45

45

KENDALL

T he firelight is still burning in their eyes.

Shifters of all kinds, fae, dragons, wolves—standing together like it’s not the craziest damn thing the Veil’s ever seen. Like unity wasn’t the thing they all thought would get them killed.

“So what’s our plan?” one asks.

They’re still waiting on me. So I step forward, spine straight, voice steady.

“We don’t get another shot at this,” I tell them. “This alliance? This moment? It’s the only thing standing between survival and annihilation. We split into three fronts,” I continue, the plan already etched in my mind from the moment I felt Edmund’s blood pull me through the trees. “We secure the borders. We track the Brood’s last movements. And we prepare for a siege if it comes to that.”

Ridge, standing off to the left with a wrapped shoulder and a stubborn look, grunts, “And if it doesn’t come to us?”

I nod. “Then we take it to them.”

There are no cheers this time. Just silence. Agreement. Determination.

The kind of quiet that builds in your chest like thunder.

Later, when the fire’s burned down to embers and the crowd starts thinning out, Callum finds me by the supply tent.

His hand brushes my back, low and warm, like he already knows I’m unraveling a little behind my calm.

“You were good up there,” he says.

I don’t answer right away. My throat’s tight. My hands still shaking.

“Hey,” he murmurs, stepping in front of me. “You don’t have to be unshakable all the time.”

“I’m not,” I whisper. “I’m just faking it better now.”

He tilts my chin up. “Then fake it next to me. Not in front of everyone else.”

That gets a smile out of me. Small. Real.

He leans in, kisses my temple. “Rest. Even if it’s just an hour. I’ll hold the line.”

But rest doesn’t come.

Not tonight.

Because there’s one person I need to find before I sleep.

Adora’s near the training ring. Alone.

Her movements are sharp, too fast, too reckless for someone who’s supposedly just burning off steam. Her claws flash in the moonlight as she slices at a phantom target.

She doesn’t stop when I approach.

“You’re gonna wear yourself out,” I say, keeping my tone light.

She whips around, sweat on her brow, eyes glowing faintly—not the gold of a shift. Something darker. Purple. Faint. But there.

“I’m fine,” she says. Too quick. Too clipped.

“Thought we could train together. Like before.”

She shrugs. “Don’t need to be babysat.”

“It’s not that.”

“I’m stronger than you now.”

It’s not a brag. Not quite. But it lands like a slap anyway.

I step into the ring, slowly, keeping my stance open. “You might be stronger. Doesn’t mean we stop fighting together.”

She narrows her eyes. “You mean so you can keep watching me.”

That hits too close to home.

“I just want us to be on the same page.”

“We’re not,” she says flatly. “You’ve got the speeches. The pretty wolf-boy. The firelight love story. I’ve got whispers in my head I can’t shut up and a power that doesn’t feel like mine anymore.”

My breath catches.

“Adora…”

She lunges before I can say more.

Claws bared, movements wild. I barely dodge the first hit, block the second.

This isn’t training. This is a test and she’s losing herself.

“Adora, stop!”

She snarls—literally snarls—and I knock her back with a sharp twist and kick. She stumbles, catches herself on her palms, and stays crouched. Breathing hard. Shaking. And crying.

“Something’s in me,” she says. “I didn’t let it in, Kendall. I didn’t want it. But it’s in me.”

My knees buckle and I drop in front of her. “The Hollowed.”

She doesn’t nod.

But she doesn’t deny it either.

I take her hand. Hers is ice.

“I’ll fight it with you,” I whisper.

She shakes her head. “No. You’ll fight me. Because it’s not done yet.”

She stands and walks off without another word.

I sit in the ring, heart pounding, knowing that the girl who grew up protecting me may soon be the thing I have to protect everyone from.