Page 44 of The Eternal Mirror (Lucifer’s Mirror #3)

The Night Everything Burns

T he camp is on fire.

That’s my first thought when I burst out of the tent, my heart still hammering from the vision. For a second, I think I’m still dreaming. Still trapped.

But the acrid fumes scorch the back of my throat.

This is real.

The air reeks of smoke, blood, and something darker—something magical. Screams slice through the night like arrows. There’s shouting. Metal. Flame. Chaos.

Someone grabs me, and I whirl around and kick out before I realize that it’s Khaosti, barely managing to stop myself from kicking him in the balls .

One hand is on my shoulder, the other holding a sword slick with blood. His eyes glow—just a little. Just enough to say this is bad.

“What happened?” I ask, though it’s pretty obvious.

“They knew our defenses,” he says. “The advance force took us by surprise and cut down the sentries. I missed something.”

“It’s too late to worry about that now.”

His eyes narrow, but he nods. “We’ve killed them, but they’ve done what they came to do—disrupted the camp. Thrown us into chaos.”

“Well, hold it together. How far is the main army? Is Khronus with them?”

“Minutes away. Zayne did a flyover. But I’ve sent him to the shifter camp because, yes, my father is with them.”

We’d set the shifters up in a camp a mile away, out of range of Khronus’s beastmaster powers.

I’d tried to duplicate my spell to stop them from working, but I can’t seem to make it stick on multiple people at once.

It’s a pain because all our best fighters are shifters, but we can’t risk it.

Luckily, many of the rebels are actually human from the other worlds, or mixed breeds with no powers, so they are safe from Khronus’s magic.

Plus, there are a good number of women in the army.

Again, mostly human. It’s a pity we don’t have more witches, but hey, guess what—they’re dead.

“Stay close to me,” Khaos says, his voice all grit and command. “If I don’t know where you are, I can’t think. I can’t fight.”

I nod. I don’t argue. For once. I’m still trying to pull myself out of the nightmare vision. My current reality is just too similar.

But I stay close to his side as we make our way through the camp.

Bodies lie in disarray, the scent of blood hanging in the air.

Firelight gleams off tents, armor, and bare, bloodied skin.

We head to the rise. Thorben is there, staring out over the darkness beyond the camp.

There’s no moon tonight, and the land is in shadow.

But as I stare, I can make out the shadows moving toward us.

Then the clouds shift, and the moon appears.

I see Khronus at the head of a huge army, riding a black horse.

His guards surround him, also on horseback, followed by a multitude of foot soldiers and beasts—no doubt shifters under Khronus’s control.

The army spreads out, surrounding the camp, and a sense of dread fills me.

And then they’re in. Pouring through the perimeter like floodwater, and there’s no more time to think. Khaos has trained the men well; they fight in pairs, back-to-back. But even so, the enemy get through, and soon we’re fighting for our lives.

I don’t want to fight the shifters. They’re probably doing this under coercion, but I don’t know how to free them. I strike down a wolf, and as the body hits the ground, it shifts back to a man—or rather a boy.

I duck as a blade swings past my face. They go down. Khaosti has already turned to cover my back. A blur of motion. Blood arcs. Screams follow. They’re closing in on us.

It’s time for some magic, but last time I did this, it nearly killed me. And I can’t afford to die before I take out Khronus.

I raise my sword and pull the celestial fire from deep within me. I whisper the words of a spell and point my sword at the circle of enemies surrounding us. Crimson flame shoots from the tip, engulfing them all, and they scream and burn. The scent of scorched flesh fills my nostrils.

I feel the familiar sense of wild power filling me. The celestial fire, gifted to me by Selene when I was a baby, is intoxicating.

“Guard my back,” I say to Khaos. He nods, and I head off the rise into the fray.

I try to make sense of the fight, only picking off the enemy when I’m sure I won’t take out friends as well.

But word must be spreading because they are backing away, except for the shifters who don’t have that option.

The swarm is thinning, and through it, I spot someone I recognize.

He's standing tall at the tree line, wearing the black uniform of Khronus’s guard. Giving fucking orders. Gesturing like he knows every inch of this place.

No. Please, no. I want so badly to be wrong.

But then the moon hits his face, and there’s no mistaking him.

Niall.

I stop cold.

Khaosti nearly slams into me. “What?”

I just point.

His gaze follows mine.

“Niall,” I say. And my voice is dead. Hollow. “It was him. He betrayed us.”

Khaosti’s jaw clenches. “I should have guessed,” he growls. “I should have changed our defenses when he disappeared.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“It’s my job to know.”

Fucking Niall. “Niall!” I roar .

He pauses, head up as if scenting danger. Eyes widening, he holds up his hands in surrender. And I hurl the celestial flame and burn him to the ground.

At that moment, magic—rotten and forceful—sweeps over the camp like a wave. Khronus is away from the fighting, but not so far that I can’t see his lips moving as he does his beastmaster thing. I throw out a flame, but it bounces harmlessly off his wards.

Thank god we moved the shifters after Niall disappeared.

Then I spot someone off to the side. It’s Sheela, and she’s staring at Killian in horror. He must have spent the night in the camp and been caught unawares. Now he’s racing away from her, until he crashes to his knees and screams.

I’m guessing he’s too far from her for the sleep spell to work.

“Killian!” I yell. “Stop! Fight it!” But I know the words are futile.

He goes still, raising his head to stare at me.

Then he’s up, half-shifted, eyes glowing yellow, muscles pulsing like something inside him is trying to tear out.

As I watch, the shift comes over him. A huge black wolf stands, staring across the space between us.

He’s still fighting the compulsion. I can see it—every limb is locked solid, every muscle straining.

But like a puppet, he moves forward, stalking me.

Sheela is looking on in horror; then she turns away.

She looks around and bends down to pick up a sword.

I expect her to turn back to Killian, but she doesn’t.

She throws back her head and screams her rage and grief.

And then she’s running toward Khronus. She must know that she can’t touch him, but I don’t think she’s exactly thinking straight right now .

Sheela doesn’t stop.

Her sword is up, her mouth open in a scream, her feet eating up the ground between her and Khronus.

He just sits on his horse, watching.

I see the moment he recognizes Sheela. He stops muttering his incantations and stares at her.

Then he raises his hand, and the arrows fly.

One. Two. Three.

Sheela drops, like the world itself just gave out beneath her.

Everything seems to slow around us. In front of me, Killian stops; no longer the focus of Khronus’s magic, he turns and races toward Sheela.

“No!”

He doesn’t hear me. Or he does, and it doesn’t matter.

I stare at the dead woman, a crumpled heap on the ground. Khronus didn’t need to kill her. She was his niece, and he didn’t even blink. Killian howls and then hurls himself at Khronus, crashing into the wards over and over again.

The space between us fills with soldiers as a second wave attacks, and I lose sight of him.

And I just stand there, my heart not beating, my lungs not working.

“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no—”

“Amber!” Khaosti screams, and I jerk out of my funk as a huge guy with an ax leaps for me.

I pivot and slice, and he drops to the ground.

I reach for the celestial fire, but everyone is all mixed up, and I can’t burn them without burning us.

So I fight. But it doesn’t stop. Of course it doesn’t.

Something slams into me, and I crash to the ground, a heavy weight suffocating me.

There’s blood in my mouth—maybe mine. Then the dead weight is dragged off me, and Khaosti grabs my hand—hauls me up—but I’m barely standing. I can’t see straight.

“She’s gone,” I say. “Sheela. He killed her.” Like maybe he doesn’t know. Like maybe I don’t believe it.

His face is hard. Too hard. And something behind his eyes snaps.

The next moment, he drops his sword.

And starts to change.

His skin glows gold, then splits. Wings unfurl—impossibly wide. All around us, people scream and run for cover. Scales shimmer in the firelight, iridescent and sharp as broken glass. Horns. Claws. Eyes like suns.

For a moment, I just stare. He’s fucking glorious.

He peers down at me from a great height, and I nod. I get it—he told me to stay close. I whisper a spell, and I’m on his back, gripping the scales of his massive neck. He roars—and the sky responds. Then we’re rising.

The enemy breaks, scatters, screams, and runs for cover.

And they burn.

As fire rains down, bringing death from the sky.