"They're here."
The forest filled with shouting. Dozens of soldiers burst from the trees, armor clanking, ashglass blades gleaming like obsidian lightning.
"In the name of King Haedron," the captain roared, "you are ordered to surrender. The Moonborn Luceris is to be delivered for execution. The girl will be returned to the Crown."
Aurel stepped forward, Moonfire already rising in her palms. "You think we'll surrender?"
Luceris's voice cut through the chaos. "Aurel—no! Their weapons—!" An arrow zipped past, grazing his cheek. It shattered like glass against the rocks, leaving a bright line of blood. Ashglass!
Luceris hissed, eyes wide. "It's ashglass! Stay back—that can cut even gods."
But there was no time. The soldiers charged.
Aurel let the Moonfire loose. She spun, unleashing a torrent of silver flame. Three men fell, screaming. The fire roared across the rock, carving molten lines through their ranks.
Luceris moved like a storm—blades of light in his hands, fury in his eyes. He leapt into the fray, dodging and striking with unrelenting speed.
He caught a soldier by the throat, slammed him into a tree, and kicked another clean off the ledge. But the soldiers were skilled. And the ashglass burned.
One blade caught Aurel's thigh—cold fire tearing through her skin. She screamed, then turned and incinerated her attacker with a flare of Moonfire so bright it lit the dawn. Another came at her blindside.
Luceris tackled him mid-swing, drove his blade into the soldier's gut, then spun to shield Aurel as more approached. Their backs hit stone. Surrounded. Aurel panted, her wound searing. Luceris bled from his side, chest rising fast.
"Don't stop," he rasped. "Burn them." Aurel raised her hands—and stopped. She saw it. A soldier lunged—and she disarmed him. As he hit the ground, the cuff of his sleeve shifted, revealing a small inked mark on his wrist. Not the seal of the Crown. A mark of assassins. Trained killers. Hired blades.
Her fire faltered for a heartbeat. This wasn't just an arrest. This was an execution. They finished the last attackers with ruthless precision. The final blow came from Luceris, slashing through a man's armor with a blade of flame. Silence fell.
Only one was left alive. Bound and bloody, the man sneered through swollen lips. Luceris pressed a foot to the assassin's chest.
"Speak. Who sent you?" Silence. Aurel stepped forward. Her voice was cold.
"I am Lady Aurel, Princess of the realm. I know you know that. And I know ashglass is restricted to the royal vaults." She knelt beside him, eyes glowing faintly silver.
"So why would the Crown hire assassins instead of sending their own?"
"Burn in hell… Moonborns..." the assassin rasped, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips as his eyes glazed over.
"Talk," she whispered, "or I'll kill you here. And then I'll hunt down whatever's left of your bloodline."
The assassin flinched. Luceris didn't stop her.
Finally—broken, trembling, eyes darting—he whispered:
"It was Princess Aeria." Aurel's eyes widened. "No, she didn't…"
Then…
BOOM, the sky went dark. It wasn't clouds. It wasn't a storm. It was something else.
Thunder cracked so loud it shook the bones beneath their feet. The air turned electric, buzzing with something old and terrible.
Then came the boom. Distant. From the direction of the city. Another followed. Then another—boom... boom... BOOM—a rhythm like war drums echoing through the mountains.
Luceris and Aurel froze. Screaming rose in the distance—high and panicked, inhuman in its urgency. Then the scent hit them.
Smoke.
Thick.
Oily.
Aurel's eyes widened. She clutched her head. "No…" Luceris's face drained of color.
"That's not a siege." He turned to her, his voice hard.
"Climb on. Now." Aurel didn't argue.
A flash of light appeared as silver wings spread from Luceris's back. Aurel climbed onto him, and they flew toward the source of the loud noise.
As they soared above the clouds on Luceris' back, the city looming ahead in the distance, Aurel leaned forward, wind whipping at his face.
"If these are the Veilborns," she said, voice tight with tension, "then tell me—who are we up against? How do we stop them?"
Luceris' wings beat steadily beneath them. For a moment, he said nothing. Then his voice came, low and grim.
When they attacked us, they came with their soulless soldiers—the Voidwalkers. And among them were three powerful Veilborns. They're the ones who slaughtered most of my kin."
He paused.
"The first is King Azazel. Ruthless. He seeks nothing but power, and he'll kill anyone who stands in his way. But he has a weakness—his daughter, Morticia."
Luceris glanced back at Aurel, eyes narrowed. "In the Book of Evil, she's called the Princess Without a Soul. There's a hole in her chest where her heart should be. Her face—it's twisted with darkness. She hums an old lullaby she used to know, drool sliding from her mouth to her chin. She never stops smiling. The only thing that drives her is the joy she finds in killing."
Aurel's grip on his shoulders tightened.
"And then there's Casimir," Luceris continued. "A hybrid. Loyal to Azazel to the end. But you don't have to worry about him…"
His voice dropped to a growl.
"That bastard is mine."
Aurel hesitated. "What did he do?"
Luceris' wings stiffened.
"He killed our queen," he said quietly. "My mother."
Aurel's breath caught. "Luceris… I'm so sorry. I know this might not be the right time, but—"
He clung to him tighter.
"If this is the end… if we don't make it… I just want you to know how thankful I am. For everything you've done for me. These short days we've spent together—they've been the happiest of my entire life."
Luceris was silent for a heartbeat, then he murmured, "You mustn't speak like that."
He turned his head slightly, enough for Aurel to see the softness in his eyes.
"You've given me more than you realize. Because of you, I chose to live. And I still choose to live… to be with you. So today, we will live—together—for another day."
The villages below were engulfed in chaos. Flames tore through rooftops. People screamed in the streets, running, falling, burning. Animals scattered. Shadows moved through the smoke—too tall, too fast. Not human. From above, they saw a child wailing beside the charred remains of her mother.
They couldn't see the attacker—only fireballs that rained down from above. The stench of burning flesh filled the air.
Aurel. She gasped. Her fingers slipped from Luceris's shoulder.
"Aurel!" he shouted. She clutched her head, eyes wide in agony. Voices echoed inside her skull—twisted, crawling through her mind like smoke.
They will burn.
Save them.
Kill Aeria.
Kill her now!
"No…" Her voice cracked. "Get out of my head!"
Aurel's grip faltered. Her fingers slipped from Luceris's shoulder—and then she fell, spiraling through the sky like a broken star.
"Aurel!" he shouted, panic cracking his voice.
Luceris dove after her, wings tucking tight as he arrowed through the air. Wind roared in his ears. Her body spun below him—limbs limp, hair wild, a comet of silver light falling toward death.
He caught her a breath before impact. They tumbled across the scorched earth, falling in a rough, rolling crash. Luceris landed hard, shielding her with his wings.
Silence, save for the burning. Aurel's eyes blinked open—distant at first, then sharp.
Something surged through her. Her pupils flared like molten silver, the Moonfire searing behind them. She sat up slowly, expression calm, eerily composed.
Her hair stirred, floating as if weightless. Silver light traced along her skin—shifting, alive, almost ancient.
Luceris reached for her, stunned.
"Aurel?" She looked straight ahead, eyes glowing with silver fire, her voice colder than winter.
"They're here."