Ariaxa had barely taken one breath after discovering the assassination sigil—
when the door slammed open.
Kaedan stormed inside like a creature torn from war.
Not a word.
Not a question.
He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed Ariaxa around the waist, and lifted her straight off the floor.
Her gasp hit his shoulder.
The bond thrummed with panic, fury, possession.
He held her as if she were the last heartbeat in his chest.
“Kaedan—!”
He didn’t stop moving.
He carried her out the door, arm locked tight around her, his voice a low, vicious growl:
“You will never sleep alone again.”
The palace trembled with the force of his rage.
***
Riven and two mage-healers were already sprinting toward them, spells glowing in their palms.
“The sigil—where?!” Riven demanded.
“Her bed,” Kaedan snarled.
The healer paled.
“That rune is… is not ordinary. It’s crafted using—”
The second healer swallowed hard.
“Using blood from Seren.”
Ariaxa’s stomach twisted.
Seren’s blood.
Seren’s hatred.
Seren’s death twisted into a weapon meant to kill her.
Her breath trembled.
Kaedan’s fury broke instantly.
He cupped her cheek with a hand still trembling from rage, thumb brushing her skin with unbearable gentleness.
“Don’t look away,” he murmured.
Ariaxa blinked at him.
“You didn’t kill her,” he whispered. “I did. This—this is on me. Not you.”
Her throat tightened.
She leaned into his palm.
For one fraction of a second, they were just two people in the hallway, broken and breathing together.
Then—
The palace shuddered.
A sound like tearing silk, but deeper.
Colder.
Riven’s head snapped up.
“Oh gods—”
***
A shriek ripped down the corridor.
Then another.
And another.
Figures oozed from the walls — black, weightless, dripping shadow like oil. Their mouths were too wide. Their eyes nonexistent. Their limbs made no sense.
Rhaelle’s shadow spirits.
Not soldiers.
Assassins.
And they were already inside the palace.
Kaedan shoved Ariaxa behind him—but she refused, stepping to his side and raising her hands.
Their bond flared like sunlight striking steel.
Magic burst from her fingertips.
Shadow-fire ignited in his.
The spirits lunged.
And Ariaxa and Kaedan fought.
Back-to-back.
The way they were always meant to.
He struck down shadows with explosive bursts of blood-magic.
She burned them apart with solar flares so hot the tapestries melted.
The spirits swarmed.
Ariaxa shattered two with a blazing barrier.
Kaedan tore another in half with bare hands, snarling through his fangs.
One tried to slip past them—
Kaedan grabbed it by the throat, growling:
“You will not touch her.”
Ariaxa’s pulse raced.
Her sunfire grew wild, roaring through the hall, lighting the corridor gold.
Kaedan’s rage and Ariaxa’s light merged—
The magic between them became something new.
Stronger.
Brighter.
Deadlier.
The spirits shrieked and recoiled.
Except one.
***
A shadow the size of a man slithered along the ceiling.
Neither Kaedan nor Ariaxa saw it.
Until it dropped.
Straight for Kaedan’s spine.
Ariaxa turned—
And felt the world slow.
Kaedan—
staring forward—
hands coated in blood—
exposed—
“No!” she screamed.
Her body moved before thought.
Her feet left the ground.
Her magic burned.
She threw herself between Kaedan and the descending shadow.
He turned, eyes widening—
“ARIA—”
Too late.
The spirit plunged its claws into her instead.
The impact slammed her into Kaedan’s chest.
The claws dug deep into her side.
Shadow magic crawled up her ribs like poison.
Kaedan caught her—
And roared.
A sound the palace had never heard before.