Kaedan’s warning hit Ariaxa’s ears an instant too late.
She turned—
and the world turned red.
A wet, sickening sound tore through the air as a mirror-spear punched through her abdomen, forcing a gasp from her lips. The impact blasted her backward, pinning her to the fractured stone of the mirror-prison wall. Light exploded out of the wound in blinding bursts — not blood, but liquid sunlight streaming from her body.
Kaedan’s scream was the sound of a soul breaking.
“ARIA—!”
Rhaelle materialized behind her, form flickering like a nightmare reflected in broken glass. Her three-toned voice slithered into Ariaxa’s ear as she twisted the spear deeper.
“Shhhh,” she whispered. “This is how it always ends for your kind. Bleeding light. Dying as the Night falls.”
Ariaxa choked, her fingers trembling around the shaft protruding from her stomach. Her knees buckled. The spear held her up like a pinned butterfly.
Her glow dimmed.
Her wings flickered.
Her heart faltered.
Kaedan lunged.
He didn’t walk.
He didn’t leap.
He launched.
A feral roar tore from his throat, shaking the shattered walls of the mirror realm. His fangs elongated fully, shadows ripping up from the ground like black flames around his body.
“GET AWAY FROM HER!”
Rhaelle grinned.
“Or what, little Emperor? Will you lose another one?”
Kaedan struck—
but Rhaelle vanished in a burst of fractured reflections, appearing behind him, slashing him across the back with a blade of mirror-light.
He staggered—
But didn’t fall.
He spun, grabbing her by the throat with a snarl, his claws carving runes into her shifting flesh. The illusions inside the prison cracked under the pressure of his rage, the air warping.
“Touch her again—” he growled, voice shaking with murderous promise, “—and I will tear your soul apart.”
Rhaelle only laughed.
“You’ll do nothing,” she whispered into his face. “Because once she dies, the bond will devour you. My little curse will finish what I began.”
Then—
She twisted the spear inside Ariaxa.
A guttural cry burst from Ariaxa’s lips.
Kaedan snapped.
He hurled Rhaelle across the chamber, shadow wings flaring, billowing like a storm. His vision blurred red. His entire aura cracked like lightning, streaks of unstable shadow flaring off him in violent arcs.
“ARlAXA—!”
He reached her before she hit the floor, catching her in his arms as the spear slid free with a sickening slick noise. Sunlight poured from the wound like a burning cascade.
Her body convulsed.
Her head fell against his shoulder.
Her breath shuddered on every inhale.
Kaedan crushed her to him, one hand pressing desperately over the gaping wound.
“Stay with me, stay with me—please, gods, Ariaxa, don’t—”
She groped weakly at his chest, fingers clutching his shirt, dragging him closer with failing strength.
“Kaedan…” she whispered, voice breathless, faint. “Don’t… let… her…”
His throat closed on a sob. His shadow aura shook violently, unstable, lashing the air around them. The mirror-prison walls trembled, cracks ripping outward.
“She’s not touching you again,” he swore, voice trembling with desperation and something darker — a raw, feral protectiveness that bordered on madness. “You hear me? No one touches you. No one.”
He kissed her hair — not tenderly, but like a man drowning, like he needed the contact to stay alive.
Her blood — her light — soaked his hands, burning him, but he didn’t move them. He didn’t care. He pressed harder, trying to stop the flow.
“Hold on. Hold on for me.”
Her eyelids fluttered, pupils dilating.
Pain radiated through the bond — not just hers.
His.
He felt her slipping.
He felt himself slipping through her.
Because if she died—
So would he.
“Ariaxa,” he whispered, voice cracking as light bled down his forearm. “Please.”
She lifted a shaking hand, touching his cheek.
That tiny, intimate gesture broke him.
His breath stuttered. His grip tightened. His forehead pressed to hers.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough. I’m sorry I let this happen. I should’ve protected you—I should’ve—I should’ve—”
Her fingers twitched against his skin, too weak to stroke, but enough to hush him.
“Not… your fault…” she breathed.
Her light began to flicker.
Kaedan’s voice dropped to a growl of pure panic.
“No. Don’t you fade. Don’t you leave me—”
But Rhaelle’s laughter cut through the chamber, echoing from every reflective surface.
“Look at you,” she crooned. “Crying over her. Like a child. Like your mother before you.”
Kaedan’s entire body went still.
His shadows turned sharp.
Violent.
Deadly.
He pivoted slowly, eyes pitch black, looking for the source.
Rhaelle’s reflections danced across the room, dozens of her smiling through fractured glass.
“Kill me if you can,” she taunted. “But hurry. She bleeds light. She won’t last long.”
Kaedan roared, ready to lunge—
But Ariaxa’s hand clamped weakly on his arm.
“No… not yet…” she whispered.
He looked down at her, stunned.
“Ariaxa—”
Her breath hitched. Her voice was a rasp.
“Not… fighting her…” she whispered. “Not… like this.”
He stared, barely understanding her through the ringing in his ears, the terror in his veins.
“You’re dying,” he choked.
She coughed — sunlight spilling from her lips — but her eyes sharpened through the agony.
“Not… if I… change the rules.”
Her trembling fingers slid down from his cheek to the spear still embedded halfway through her abdomen.
Kaedan’s blood turned to ice.
“No—Ariaxa—DON’T—”
Her hand curled around the spear’s shattered mirror-blade.
And she pulled it farther in.
Kaedan screamed her name.
Her entire body jolted, light flaring so violently it cracked the prison walls. Magic surged down the spear—
Not killing her.
Not yet.
No.
She was dragging the spear’s shadow-magic into herself.
Absorbing it.
Consuming it.
Her voice broke on a whisper.
“Let’s see… what the Sun-Eclipse Queen can do… with this.”
Her grip tightened.
The chamber shook.
The shadows writhed.
Kaedan felt something ancient and terrifying uncoil inside her—
as Ariaxa began absorbing the spear’s shadow-magic into herself.