The rift spat us out into a cold, desolate clearing under a moonless sky. My knees hit the ground first, my palms skidding across the dirt as I gasped for breath. Devon landed beside me with a dull thud, his claws retracting sluggishly, his chest rising and falling in shallow, laboured breaths. Lady Bernadette was draped over his arm, her head lolling as her limp body sagged against his. There was sweat glistening on her pale face, and one of her legs was twisted at an unnatural angle.

That sharp, metallic tang of blood was so thick I could taste it. I’d failed.

Not to escape, Mouriana had seen to it, but to do anything more than survive. I couldn’t get Remnant’s laughter out of my head, her words etched into my brain like a brand. I will find you.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. It was hard for my mind to process everything that had just happened. I wasn’t powerful enough to do anything. It was hard to focus, but I forced myself to remember what I had to do.

They needed me.

Pushing myself up, I turned to Devon. He leaned against a jagged rock, his grey eyes dulled to a faint flicker of their usual fire. His skin was ashen and there was a faint black haze curling around his wounds. It was exactly like the magic eater curse. As soon as I saw it, my heart clenched, panic clawing at my chest.

“Devon,” I whispered, reaching out to him. “Stay with me, please.”

His head lolled slightly before he blinked, his lips curling into a weak smirk. “Still here,” he murmured, but his voice was barely a breath.

My throat tightened as I bit back a sob. “You’re not allowed to leave me. You hear me?” I grabbed his hand, squeezing it hard. “You promised.”

Lady Bernadette groaned quietly behind him, her head tipped to one side. Blood seeped from the wound on her leg, soaking through the makeshift bandage Devon had wrapped around it. Her skin was pale, and her breathing was shallow. Those dark veins lining Devon’s wounds threaded around hers, too.

My jaw clenched, fighting back the rising panic. There was no time to panic. No time to think about Azriel, Zaria, or the lingering questions about why Remnant let us go. All I could do was focus on what had to be done.

A grunt escaped Devon’s lips, his eyes dull with exhaustion. “Where’” he began. “Where are we?”

“Not far from the inn,” I said.

I forced myself to look around, and felt sick to my stomach. The remains of our escort were scattered across the clearing, twisted and lifeless. These once-proud sentinels lay broken, their black uniforms torn, their swords snapped like twigs. Blood soaked the ground in dark pools. One man’s body hung limply over the shattered remains of the carriage, his face frozen in a mask of terror. Remnant did this!

The bile in my throat threatened to rise up again, but I swallowed it. Grieving was out of the question.

“We’re going to Morinpar Hill,” I said aloud, mostly to myself. “Le Torneau Manor. That’s closer. The Irving Island is too fa in your present condition.”

Devon’s brow furrowed a little. “The witches’” he rasped.

“They’ll follow us, I know,” I said, cutting him off. “But I won’t let them take you. Or Bernadette. Not while I’m breathing.”

There was no response as his eyelids drooped dangerously low. Panic creeped into my voice as I shook his hand. “Devon! Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

Gaia, no. Not him. Not like this.

I stumbled to my feet, the tremor in my legs nearly sending me back down. The carriage was only a few feet away, toppled on its side but otherwise intact. The energy of its magical core whirled, sputtering like a dying flame. I approached it and pressed my hands to the rune imprinted on its surface. My magic stirred weakly, and I coaxed it into the core. The rune flared brilliantly, and the carriage righted itself with a groan.

With my heart pounding in my ears, I turned back to Devon and Lady Bernadette. I summoned every last ounce of strength to lift Bernadette’s limp form and ease her into the carriage. I brushed my hand over her forehead. She was clammy and breathing unevenly. Even with the makeshift bandages around her wounds, blood still oozed. “Stay with me, Bernadette,” I whispered. “Just a little longer.”

Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open.

Devon shifted slightly as I knelt beside him, his breathing shallow and uneven.

“You’re getting in too,” I said firmly, wrapping my arms around him. His body was heavy, his limbs uncooperative, but I refused to give in. With one final heave, I pulled him into the carriage and settled him beside Bernadette.

“Stay with me,” I whispered, brushing his damp hair back. “Just stay with me, Devon. Please.”

His eyes fluttered open, and I saw the black veins creeping into them. “Trying,” he muttered.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and gripped the knobs tight as I pressed my magic into the carriage’s core again. The runes along its frame flickered, and then the carriage lurched forward. As we travelled on, I listened for any sign of those shadow witches.

Minutes passed like hours. Devon drifted in and out of consciousness, his head lolling against the carriage wall. I called him constantly to keep him awake. “Devon, look at me. Say something. Anything.”

When he responded, it was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to keep me going.

Bernadette remained unconscious, her breath still uneven. Each time the path evened out, I glanced at her, watching the way the black veins around her wounds spread. There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that the shadow oriental witches weren’t done.

They’d come to finish her off. I was sure of it. But I had to know what they wanted. Did they just want the water orientals, or did they want all of them? In that case, my mother was in danger too, even though fire seemed to be the shadow oriental’s weakness.

Seeing Morinpar Hill, relief and dread warred in my chest. The idea of putting my family in danger gave me a fresh rush of anxiety.

I didn’t even have time to stop the carriage when the gates opened, bringing my brothers running to meet me. Yeon was first to reach me, his sharp green eyes narrowing as he took in the battered state of the carriage and its passengers.

“Celeste,” Yeon called. I knew they’d smelled the blood long before they saw us. He looked at me, then at Devon and Lady Bernadette. “What the hell happened?”

“Witches,” I said, my voice cracking under the strain. “They’re after Lady Bernadette. Devon and she’” My throat tightened, and I forced myself to swallow the lump rising in my chest. “They need healers. Dyaks. Now.”

Cullen came up beside him, his eyes darkening as he observed the scene. He stared at Devon, who was barely conscious, and Bernadette, pale and motionless. With no hesitation, he turned and barked orders at the sentinels.

“Inside!” he commanded, motioning to the swarm of Le Torneau sentinels. “Get them inside. Secure the grounds. Now!”

I stepped closer, grabbing his arm to stop him before he could leave. “Use fire, Cullen,” I warned. “You’ll need witches and fire. These witches fight with shadows, and if those shadows touch you, they’ll corrupt your magic. No Lycans.” I looked over at Yeon. “With your alpha injured, none of you are safe.”

Yeon placed a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Are they following you?”

“They will,” I said with certainty. “I don’t know when, but they will.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he turned to the sentinels. “Get Lord Irving and Lady Bloodworth inside and secure the premises!”

I watched as they carefully lifted Devon and Bernadette from the carriage, my heart pounding like a drum as I followed them into the manor.

“Get the witches” guild on the grounds,” Yeon ordered behind me. “Surround the manor with Holy Fire! All Lycans, return to the house for now. You witches, stand guard. Cullen, speak with Mother to send for the Dyaks. Move!”

Sentinels moved quickly. I hurried behind the group carrying Devon and Bernadette, but my steps wobbled as my parents descended the grand staircase. The look on their faces as they took in my sight was unsettling.

“Talk to me, Celeste,” Mother said urgently. “What happened?”

“Shadow Orientals,” I said, swallowing hard as I glanced between them. “They wanted Lady Bernadette, and she and Devon got hurt.”

Father’s brows furrowed. “Shadow Orientals?” he asked with incredulity. “What are those?”

“They should be extinct,” Mother hissed sharply. “But I’m sure Mouriana could have easily dispelled them.”

“She was” preoccupied,” I admitted, remembering Mouriana and Remnant. “They weren’t alone. They had help. An insidious entity, someone Mouriana is still engaged with. She called herself Remnant” Mythica.”

Mother’s face darkened. “The Scarlet Witch,” she said with a scoff, her lips pressing into a thin, grim line. “I know of her. She’s no ordinary witch. She is a demon of some sort, tied to the blood magic of the old dark orders. Only Mouriana could wrestle her.”

As I opened my mouth to respond, Mother’s expression changed suddenly, her eyes widening as if she’d made a connection she didn’t want to believe. “My girl,” she said, her gaze pinning me in place, “you know there’s no cure for a Shadow Oriental’s strike, don’t you? It is exactly like’” She trailed off. “The magic eater curse.”

I saw the realization dawn on her face, the same terrifying truth Lady Bernadette and I already knew. The Shadow Orientals were the dark veil cult. Their curse killed Camille.

I glanced toward the hall where the sentinels carried Devon and Bernadette. I couldn’t stop thinking about Devon. He was slipping away with every agonizing second. If I didn’t save him, I’d lose more than just him. The ripple effect of the death of the Lycan Alpha would devastate Wridel. Lycans across the kingdom, including my family, could begin to fall. I’d lose nearly everything in one brutal sweep.

Even so, beneath the crushing fear, there was a glimmer of hope. If I could save Devon, I could save Zaria and Azriel too. But I couldn’t think like that. Not now. First, I needed to make sure Devon lived.

And Mouriana. I needed to see her, to make sure she was still alive and well. Although my mother believed Mouriana could defeat Remnant, I had doubts. Remnant was like nothing I’d seen before. The thing is, I still didn’t know what she wanted or who her real target was.

“We can’t let them die,” I whispered. “I am not losing my mate, Mother! You need to tell me what to do.”

She softened her eyes for a while, but then a shadow of hesitation crossed her face. She let out a huff, as if weighing the risk of telling the truth. “There are two ways to undo a Shadow Oriental’s thrust,” she said finally. “One is to kill the witch who’s responsible. Their death nullifies their magic.”

I felt my chest tighten. “That’ll take too long,” I said with frustration in my voice. “They work in the shadows. It could take days—weeks—to find the one who did this.”

“What is the other option?” my father asked. Then he glanced across the hall. “If the Alpha dies, the Lycans will start dropping like warps, Saffron.”

I could see the conflict in her eyes as she hesitated to answer. Finally, she sighed and said, “We must scourge the darkness from his core using oriental fire.”

I straightened up, that tiny ember of hope flaring.

“It is very dangerous,” she continued. “There’s a chance the process might destroy the darkness, but it might also destroy him.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Destroy his core? ’ I asked, barely able to utter the words.

“Yes,” Mother said with regret in her voice. “It could end him or leave him an empty shell without his Lycan essence. I would advise against it.”

“No,” I said. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” she said sharply. “These are your only options. You have to decide quickly, Celeste.”

I blinked away tears that stung my eyes and clenched my fists, forcing myself to breathe, to think. “Then I’ll do it,” I said finally. “I’ll use the fire.”

My father looked at me with a small gasp. “You’re not strong enough to handle that kind of process yet, Celeste. If you misstep’”

“I have to,” I snapped. “If I don’t, Devon dies and I won’t lose my mate. I’ll burn Wridel to the ground before I let that happen.”

Mother reached out to take my arms. She looked at me like she could see right through flesh and bone into my soul. “You’ve woken your fire, haven’t you?” she asked. “I can feel it. Your rage is igniting the flames.”

I nodded. “It was the only way to vanquish the shadows,” I said. “It triggered when Devon got hurt.”

“It did, did it?” she murmured with a thoughtful scowl. There was a flash of something I couldn’t quite place in her eyes as her grip tightened. Was it fear? Or pride?

Before I had a chance to speak again, Mouriana’s voice slipped into my mind. Little witch. You’re stronger than you think. You share a bond with your mate that lets you connect to his core. Use it. You can scourge the darkness afflicting him, but you must act now before it’s too late. The shadow orientals are coming for Inferno. You need to prepare. Hurry.

Inferno. Mouriana’s nickname for my mother. If the shadow orientals were coming for her, there wouldn’t be enough time to summon the witches” guild or the other oriental elders to protect her. They’d planned this—crippling the most powerful houses by targeting their leaders, one by one.

“Mother,” I called. “They’re coming for you. It looks like they plan on destroying the elders of the oriental houses. You” you’re their biggest setback. Your fire is their weakness.”

Her expression didn’t change, but her grip on my arms tightened slightly. “Of course I am,” she said calmly. “It’s what they’ve always feared. But they won’t succeed, not while I still draw breath.”

I shook my head. “We’re not ready for this. The guild isn’t here. The elders aren’t here. They’ve planned this too well.”

“Then we’ll make do with what we have,” Mother said sharply, releasing my arms and straightening to her full height. “The witches on the grounds will buy us time. I’ve been itching to unleash my fire for a while. There’s no time like the present.”

Father grabbed her hands. “Saffron, you’re strong, but you can’t take them alone. And we’ve always fought together, but with Lord Irving down, I may not be able to do this with you. I won’t let you do this alone.”

“I can take them,” Mother interrupted, and her eyes narrowed at my father in annoyance. “And I will. My fire is what they want to snuff out. It’s what they fear most. It’s why they’ve so meticulously wiped out all the other fire witches, even Camille until it’s just me left.”

“You can’t,” I interjected. “You can’t fight this alone.”

Her eyes softened just a little as she turned to me. For a moment, I saw a mother grappling with the impossible choice between protecting her child and standing against the enemy at her door instead of the tenacious matriarch of the Le Torneau clan. “They must have realised Celeste’s fire magic woke and will try to do both of us in here and now. We must get her out of here.”

“I am not going anywhere,” I snapped. “Mouriana believes I can connect to Devon’s core and peel the darkness away with our bond as mates. I will do that and fight with you.”

“But it requires your fire,” she said, her lips thinning. “The fire you’ve only just awakened, and you’re not strong enough yet to not consume most of your energy wielding it.”

“I don’t have a choice,” I whispered. “And neither do you. But we must not waste time fighting their shadows. Let the witches on the ground try to find their true forms so we can use the threads connecting them to vanquish them.”

Father put a hand on her shoulder. “She’s right. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for reinforcements or wasting our resources. Celeste can handle Lord Irving. We’ll handle the rest.”

Her lips pressed together, but she nodded after a beat. “Do what Mouriana told you,” she said. “Take your time. Do not worry yourself with what’s happening out here. We’ve got this. Go save your mate so that the Lycans can join the fight.”

“I’ll save him.”

She stared at me for a moment before turning sharply to Father. “Come. We need to prepare.”

After they made their way to the door, I turned toward the hall where Devon was with a big exhale.