Page 56

Daimon

They flew over the remains of the battlefield. The ground soldiers who had not been infected by the shadows were stopping to check on the wounded. Evelina was silent on the ride back to the palace. Daimon wrapped both of his arms around her waist and tucked her in close. He traced circles over her abdomen, lost in his mind as much as she was in hers.

Every death settled like a heavy weight against Daimon’s chest. They’d lost half their flight, the skies feeling far too empty without Ranick, Elias, and Keir. They had trained as a unit for years. To suddenly have their closest friends ripped away from them, to have to fly so soon, was like a knife to the gut. Willow had almost lost Khaline, too, the wyvern’s wing still stiff and her flight slow.

But the empire had not just lost soldiers today.

The Valon flags they passed on the way to the palace were all already flying half-mast, confirmation that Moros’s words were true.

The queen—Evelina’s mother—had passed on to Caelum.

Daimon sat in the throne room, seated at a table that connected to others to form a square. Lyria had quickly come running down the hall when they arrived, pulling Evelina away. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Lyria’s face, the devastation. How it only made Evelina close further in on herself.

It felt like a knife was driving into his chest as he watched her walk away. He wanted so desperately to go with her, but he was still a commander. He had to report on the catastrophic battle, unable to stay by her side.

The council had already been seated around the table when Daimon arrived, along with Senna and Carwyn. There was an empty seat where Keir was supposed to sit. Maliena was on one side of Daimon, Neve on the other. It made him feel a little less alone, but the shock of losing Keir lingered. He felt as if he should be unraveling right now, or screaming until his throat turned raw. But he felt nothing. His body was numb, his mind fuzzy, his vision blurred. It didn’t feel real that Keir was gone—that Ranick and Elias would never fly with him again.

Daimon recounted the battle for the council, telling them about Keir, Ranick, and Elias. He fought to keep his voice even. He told them of the way their own troops were turned against them, fighting as if possessed.

“These soldiers are strong-willed—fierce,” Daimon continued. “The rebels’ power is out of control, turning the strongest of warriors against their own.”

Maliena gasped and Carwyn clenched her jaw.

“How is that possible?” Neve demanded.

“Moros has learned to harness the darkness Vidaris has offered him.” Daimon seethed, his temper barely contained. He pushed to his feet, unable to sit still. “We should make another push—perhaps by sea this time. ”

He looked to Senna, awaiting the naval commander’s approval. But Senna’s face was uncommonly distant, lingering on Keir’s empty seat.

“No,” Carwyn jumped in. She slowly stood, her hands braced on the table. “We need a plan. To recover. My mother’s passing was not the only development here.”

Daimon paused. He looked around the room, at the heaviness on each face. “What do you mean?”

“The western fleet aided the diverted troops.” It was Senna who finally spoke, seated at Carwyn’s right side. “They staved off further attack into Drogheda, but the losses were numerous.”

All eyes turned to Carwyn. But she was quiet, only releasing a shaky breath.

“Ren was among the losses,” Senna added quietly, his voice filled with regret.

Daimon’s heart froze in his chest. Evelina hadn’t just lost her mother, but her brother, too.

“A lux will be held for them tomorrow, and for all who sacrificed themselves for the empire.” Carwyn recovered herself, steadying her voice. “Things will be moving quickly. We must prepare for the crown to transfer to the next queen.”

She meant herself. He knew Carwyn was strong, but he was surprised she was moving forward so quickly after all she had lost. He supposed she didn’t really have a choice. She had an empire to lead.

“And our next offense?” Daimon asked.

“For now”—Maliena placed a hand on his arm—“it’d be best to focus all our attention on the transfer of the crown. All we can hope is the land will be better protected with a new surge of Essence.”

A somber rumble of agreement spread across the table. The meeting dissolved, everyone dispersing with a weighted silence.

“Daimon, please stay a moment,” Carwyn said, scrutinizing a roll of parchment on the table. Once the room was emptied, she looked up at him. “I think we should double our efforts at the border. I want you at the helm, leading those stationed there. Not just the Alpha Fleet, but the ground soldiers and three additional beta fleets.”

He didn’t know what to say—what to think or feel. He just felt numb. He didn’t want to simply go back to the border and keep playing this endless game of defense. He wanted to find Moros and make him pay.

“We should be going after Moros,” Daimon hissed. “We’ll never win if we don’t stop him.”

“If we rush our forces back out, we’ll face another slaughter,” Carwyn said slowly. “We need to go back in prepared next time.”

Rage flared inside of him, heating his chest. Moros killed Ranick and Elias. He stoked a rebellion that ended in Keir’s death—in countless others dying.

How does one prepare against darkness? There would always be a level of unpreparedness; now was as good a time as any.

“I’ll give your fleet time to mourn the losses of today’s battle, but I’ll want you back on the southern border in a few days,” Carwyn said with a sharp finality in her voice.

A few days . Daimon could be given a lifetime to mourn and it wouldn’t be enough. Not for Ranick, who was the first Rider to teach Daimon how to saddle Zephyr. Not for Elias, a steady and calm presence, ready to follow Daimon into battle without fail. And certainly not for Keir, the Aegis council head he had looked up to since he was a wide-eyed, thirteen-year-old chosen to become a Rider. The commander who believed in him when no one else did and made him a part of Alpha Fleet. Keir had been with him through it all.

“Evelina will need a few days as well before she goes back,” Carwyn added.

The words settled like a weight on his chest. Selfishly, he wanted her with him, no matter where that was. They both had experienced unbearable loss, and he wouldn’t lose anyone else.

“She will have a choice to do as she wishes, but a Manor never backs away from their duties,” Carwyn continued. “Once she’s on the border, she can do as she pleases.” She gave him a pointed look.

His heart thumped in his chest. Once the lux was over and the crown passed, he could focus on taking down Moros. On making him feel every ounce of pain Daimon had felt in the past two decades. He would do it with Evelina by his side, light and shadows working together to defeat darkness.