Page 35 of Realms of Shadow and Sun (A World of Sun and Shadow #3)

Renya sat on the worn, ornate chair in her childhood nursery, her stomach a tangled knot of anxiety. The knife Grayden had gifted her was tucked within the bodice of her gown, its weight a constant reminder of the task ahead. Her eyes roamed the room, taking in the care that had once gone into decorating it—now a stark contrast to its current state of disrepair. Broken furniture and scattered debris told a silent story of the destruction wrought by her own mother's obsession.

Cyrus approached, his footsteps echoing in the hollow silence. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his touch conveying a lifetime of unspoken love and regret. "It'll all be over soon, my Sunshine,"

he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If you'd rather, I can be the one to end it."

The offer was tempting. The burden of what lay ahead weighed heavily on Renya's shoulders. But this was personal—Cressida had threatened the people she loved too many times. The prophecy dictated it must be her. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders in resolve.

"Thanks, Father,"

she said, the word feeling both foreign and right on her tongue, "but I should be the one to do it."

Cyrus's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Renya felt her own eyes welling up in response. It was the first time she'd called him 'father,' and the significance of the moment wasn't lost on either of them. Here, in this nursery where she had once been loved and cared for as a baby, the wounds of abandonment began to heal.

Her father knelt before her, his gaze level with hers. "I've always loved you, my Renya,"

he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Unable to contain herself, Renya slipped from the chair and into her father's waiting arms. His embrace was warm, solid—everything she had yearned for in her darkest moments.

"Shhh...it's okay, my daughter,"

Cyrus murmured, stroking her hair. "We have a lot of time to make up for, but I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

For a moment, Renya wanted nothing more than to disappear into that embrace, to hand over this burden to her father. He would do it, she knew, without hesitation. She longed to be a child again, protected and loved, safe in a nursery untouched by the ravages of war and betrayal.

But as she looked around the room—furniture splintered, rubble littering the floor—the harsh reality of their situation came rushing back. There was no true safety, no freedom, as long as Cressida lived. This destruction, this chaos, was the work of her own mother, hellbent on ending her daughter's life to keep and enhance her own magic.

Despite Cressida's occasional moments of softness towards her, Renya knew what had to be done. The stakes were too high, the consequences of failure too dire.

Are you in place, Little Fawn? Grayden's voice echoed in her mind, a soothing force against her frayed nerves.

Yes. How is Beauty behaving?

She knows you're in the tower. If I don't keep her focused, she tries to get to you, but other than that, she's been great.

"Are you talking to your mate?"

Cyrus asked, helping Renya to her feet. His eyes held a mix of curiosity and something akin to wistfulness.

"How did you know?"

A sad smile played on his lips. "You get a peaceful look on your face. I could do that with your mother before I broke our bond."

The mention of their broken bond stirred something in Renya. "Do you ever miss her?"

The idea of breaking her bond with Grayden was unfathomable—it was as much a part of her as her arms or her face.

Cyrus sighed deeply, his eyes distant. "I miss what we had before she found that prophecy. We were happy—you, me, and your mother. But on her quest for power, she lost sight of the most important thing."

She's here, Renya, Grayden's voice interrupted, laced with concern. Be careful, my love. I'll find you when it's all over.

"She's here,"

Renya announced, moving to what remained of the window. In the distance, she could see Cressida astride Brutus, her dark figure a stark contrast against the bright sky. Behind her, an army, thousands strong, marched towards the city gates. Renya's throat tightened, fear gripping her heart as she thought of all the soldiers on their side—her family among them.

It'll be okay. Deep breath. A wave of calm washed over her, and she knew Grayden was trying to steady her nerves. Guilt gnawed at her; he was the one about to face a massive army, yet here he was, comforting her. She just had to kill her mother. The thought sent another painful knot twisting in her stomach.

Cyrus stood behind her, his fingers outstretched as his eyes scanned the horizon. They watched as Cressida landed before the city gate, unaware of the combined forces of the Twilight and Tidal Kingdoms, Snow and Spring Lands, waiting on the other side.

The Shadow Queen raised her hands, seeming to swipe through the air. "What's she doing?"

Renya whispered, though she knew she couldn't be heard from their vantage point.

"She's looking for traces of my magic,"

Cyrus explained. "Once she found the Snow Lands abandoned, she must have realized I'd cloaked it."

"Can she break it?"

A hint of pride colored Cyrus's voice. "No. But I'm going to let her think she can."

They waited, tense, as a burst of dark magic flew from Cressida's fingers. Cyrus shuddered, holding out his hands as waves of golden power radiated back into him. "She'll know where I am now,"

he said, almost glowing as his power settled. "But if I was successful, she won't know she's walking into a trap. She must have expected something, bringing her army, but hopefully, we'll catch her off guard."

Below, the Shadow Realm soldiers waited for their command. Cressida raised her right hand, and they fell into marching formation.

"It's begun,"

Cyrus said, his eyes never leaving Cressida as she blasted through the gate with her magic. As the soldiers began to pour into the city, Renya felt bile rise in her throat.

"He'll be fine,"

Cyrus assured her, correctly interpreting her worried expression. "I've watched your prince, observed him ever since I learned he was your mate. He's strong and capable, and more importantly, if he promises to come back to you, he will."

His eyes softened as he looked at her. "I never dreamed I'd meet a man who loves my daughter as much as I do, but I'm so thankful that I have." A mischievous glint entered his eyes. "And I hope to have grandchildren someday. No pressure, though," he added quickly. "You do things in your own time."

Renya's hand went unconsciously to her stomach. She wasn't entirely certain, but she was beginning to suspect she might be carrying Grayden's child. Her cycles had been irregular before coming through the portal, which she'd attributed to stress. She'd also experienced bouts of nausea, but had chalked it up to fear and uncertainty. Now, however, she was noticing subtle changes in her body that left her wondering.

She pushed the thought aside, hoping Grayden was too preoccupied to peer into her mind. When her emotions ran high, he tended to check in on her, but she didn't feel his familiar presence. He must have attributed her apprehension to their current predicament. Once she was sure, she would tell him. She didn't want to be mistaken, and she knew such news could distract him during the battle. More than that, she knew Grayden wouldn't allow her to do anything remotely dangerous if there was a chance she was carrying their child.

From their vantage point, they watched as the first of the Shadow Queen's soldiers entered the city. As planned, Grayden swooped in on Beauty, landing before them. Renya had asked him to offer the soldiers a chance to retreat, hoping to minimize bloodshed. Though she couldn't hear his words, she watched as he pleaded with the army.

Cressida appeared, shooting a blast of magic towards Grayden. He ducked, and Beauty quickly lifted him to safety. Renya's heart clenched as the soldiers marched on, her hope for a peaceful resolution crumbling.

"I knew she wouldn't allow for a peaceful solution,"

Renya said, twirling her engagement ring. "But I really hoped she would."

The air filled with the sounds of battle—clashing metal, shouts, and battle cries creating a ruckus that hung heavy in the air. Renya shuddered, knowing each sound potentially represented a life lost.

Cressida weaved above the city on Brutus, shouting orders and commanding her troops as she slowly made her way towards the tower. Though Renya couldn't make out specific soldiers, her heart raced knowing Phillippe, Triston, Charly, and Sion were down there. She could see bursts of magic that she knew came from Kalora and her aunt.

Her mind wandered to Selenia, likely huddled in the library, sick with worry over Sion. She imagined Julietta and Esmeralda comforting her, though Esmeralda would no doubt be equally concerned for Phillippe. The thought of Sion finally being able to feel his bond with Selenia once Cressida was gone helped strengthen Renya's resolve.

"Can you tell who's winning?"

Renya asked, her eyes straining to make sense of the chaos below.

Cyrus shook his head. "They're holding steady. Our side hasn't pushed her army back, but they haven't penetrated deeper into the city either."

His expression was pained, and Renya realized he loved these lands as much as Grayden loved the Snow Lands. With a pang, she acknowledged that this was her realm too, and she felt the horror her father felt as the darkly-clad soldiers tried to infiltrate the streets.

She watched, helpless, as a group of soldiers broke past several Tidal Kingdom warriors and set the communal garden ablaze. Her fingers clenched, teeth grinding as she took in the destruction.

"It won't be long now,"

Cyrus warned, his eyes fixed on the approaching figure of Brutus. The dragon was close enough now that Renya could see his gleaming eyes and scales reflecting the harsh sunlight. Cressida, clad in a black skin-tight leather suit with a cape trailing behind her, circled the dilapidated tower.

"Renya, get back,"

Cyrus ordered through gritted teeth.

A moment later, Cressida appeared in the large stone window, stepping into the room. A chill ran down Renya's spine as dread overcame her.

"Well, isn't this fitting,"

Cressida crooned, her eyes taking in the destroyed room. "It's right that we should end it here, where it all began."

"It began before this, Cressy,"

Cyrus replied, his voice tight. "The second you found those scrolls, you set this whole cycle of events in motion."

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Cressida's face turned ashen, her body tensing visibly. Her elaborately braided hair and dark, menacing makeup gave her an otherworldly, threatening appearance.

"Why not? It's what I called you before."

"Before you deceived me and broke our bond."

Cressida's eyes bulged, her nostrils flaring.

Cyrus chuckled, his arms crossed lazily against his chest in a show of false nonchalance. "Well, are you here to make the trade? Your cousin for all the magic you've siphoned out of this world?"

A cruel laugh escaped Cressida's lips. "You fool. As if I would go to any trouble to save my idiot cousin. Keep him, kill him, it matters not. I'm here to reclaim my daughter."

She made a motion with her fingers, as if to summon Renya, but Cyrus was faster. Golden strands of his magic shot out, binding Cressida.

She broke free with ease, laughing at the attempt. "Your magic is no match for mine."

This time, she moved with lightning speed, freezing Cyrus where he stood. The surprise in his eyes told Renya this was unexpected. He struggled to break free, managing only to move his head slightly.

"I have a few more tricks up my sleeve since we last met,"

Cressida taunted. "Did you ever wonder why Brandle was captured so easily?"

The cruel smile she flashed made Renya take an involuntary step back.

"You took Brandle's magic?"

Renya asked, finally finding her voice.

Cressida ignored the question, her attention laser-focused on Renya. "Daughter, come to me. Let's destroy your father once and for all. We'll take his magic, and then move on to even greater things."

"Yes, mother,"

Renya replied, feigning obedience as she moved towards Cressida. But before she could take more than a few steps, she found herself suddenly paralyzed.

Confusion swirled in Renya's mind as Cressida approached. What had happened? Why was she frozen?

Cressida grabbed Renya's arm roughly, pushing up her sleeve. "You thought you could fool me?"

she spat, dropping Renya's arm as if it burned her. She began pacing the tower, her movements sharp and agitated. Horror rose in Renya's throat as she realized what her mother had seen—her mating mark, sparkling in the light that filtered through the gaps in the ceiling.

"Your bond was never broken,"

Cressida accused, snatching a broken picture frame from the dresser and smashing it on the floor. Glass shards scattered everywhere, a fitting metaphor for the shattered fa?ade of their deception. She turned to Cyrus, fury blazing in her eyes. "You deceived me!"

Cyrus remained silent, still unable to move. Renya could see his eyes darting frantically, searching for a way out of his former mate's hold.

While Cressida's attention was fixed on Cyrus, Renya took a deep, centering breath. Her lungs expanded as she tried to calm herself and find a way out of this precarious situation.

Little Fawn? What's wrong? Grayden's concerned voice filled her mind.

Grayden! She reached for him desperately. I need you to help me like you did in the Twilight Kingdom. Calm me, help me center my magic.

To her relief, he didn't question her request. She felt his presence immediately, in that special place inside her, helping to regulate her breathing and slow her racing heart.

You can do this, Renya, he assured her. Do this, and then we'll get married.

The image of herself walking towards him, ready to pledge her soul for eternity, flooded her mind. A surge of emotion welled up within her, raw and powerful. Renya felt her magic stirring, like a slumbering beast awakening.

She closed her eyes, focusing inward. The world around her seemed to fade away—Cressida's menacing presence, Cyrus's frozen form—all of it receded as Renya delved deeper into her magical core.

There, she found a flare of energy, swirling and churning. It was wild, untamed, waiting to be harnessed. With Grayden's steadying presence as her anchor, Renya reached out to touch this whirlwind of power.

The instant she made contact, it was as if a dam had burst. Magic flooded through her veins, setting every nerve ending alight. She gasped, her eyes flying open, glowing with a strange light.

Cressida, sensing the change, whirled to face her daughter. "What are you—"

But Renya was beyond hearing. The magic continued to build, causing the air around her to crackle with energy. Her hair began to float, defying gravity, as if she were underwater.

"No!"

Cressida snarled, realizing what was happening. She raised her hands, dark tendrils of her own magic reaching out to subdue Renya once more.

But it was too late.

With a primal scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth, Renya released her pent-up magic. It exploded outward in a dazzling burst of light and color, shattering Cressida's hold like glass.

The force of it knocked Cressida backward, sending her stumbling. Waves of magical energy rippled through the air, causing the tower to sway as if caught in a strong wind.

As the initial burst subsided, Renya stood tall, her entire body suffused with a soft, pulsing glow. Tendrils of her magic, visible now as shimmering threads of light, wrapped protectively around both her and Cyrus.

Cressida's eyes widened in shock as Renya's magic continued to push against her own, slowly but surely freeing Cyrus from his paralysis.

"Impossible,"

Cressida whispered, a hint of fear creeping into her voice for the first time.

Cyrus, feeling control return to his limbs, flexed his fingers experimentally. His gaze, filled with a mixture of awe and pride, never left Renya.

With a final surge of willpower, Renya's magic gave one last push. The paralysis spell shattered completely, releasing Cyrus from its grip, and in turn, moved to Cressida and bound her.

"Renya! You did it!"

Cyrus exclaimed, his chin held high, eyes gleaming with pride. He rushed to embrace her, keeping his gaze fixed warily on Cressida. He smoothed Renya's hair and placed a tender, fatherly kiss on the top of her head.

Renya, still pulsing with magical energy, returned her father's embrace. She turned to face her mother, her eyes now holding a new strength and determination.

"It's time,"

he said softly, nodding towards Cressida, who was struggling within the searing bonds of Renya's magic. She sputtered, managing to free her mouth.

"Renya!"

Cressida cried, desperation coloring her voice. "You are my daughter! Don't listen to him! Assist me! Release me!"

With trembling hands, Renya pulled the dagger from her bodice. For the first time in her life, she saw genuine fear flash across Cressida's face.

"Don't do this, Renya,"

Cressida pleaded, her voice softer now. "I love you, in my own way. Let me go. Let me be a mother to you."

"Stop it, Cressy,"

Cyrus warned, moving to stand behind Renya in silent support. "Don't listen to her, Sunshine."

Renya took a deep, steadying breath and positioned herself directly in front of Cressida. She looked up at her mother, who stood slightly taller due to her high-heeled boots. The dagger felt heavy in her hand as she raised it, ready to end her mother's tyranny.

"Killing me won't bring the magic back,"

Cressida hissed as Renya brought the knife down. The words caused Renya to hesitate, the blade stopping mere centimeters from Cressida's chest.

"Ending your rule will restore our world,"

Cyrus growled, glaring at his former mate.

Cressida's laughter was hollow, tinged with desperation. "I admit, I've been siphoning off magic from all corners of our world. But killing me won't restore the balance."

Renya's eyes darted to her father, her fingers sweaty and struggling to maintain their grip on the dagger. Uncertainty clouded her thoughts.

"It's a trick, Renya,"

Cyrus warned, his voice tight with tension.

Renya adjusted her grip on the dagger's handle and brought it to Cressida's throat. She pressed the tip in slightly, causing a small bead of blood to form on her mother's pale skin. "What do you mean?"

she demanded, her voice trembling despite her attempt at firmness.

"You're a fool, Cyrus,"

Cressida spat, her eyes never leaving Renya's. "You've only believed what you've wanted to believe. I haven't been destroying our world—I've been trying to save it."