“For sleeping next to me.” She got quiet. “For saving me.”

  “Always,” he said, holding out his gloved hand to help her up. “You’re going to need more training, though.”

  “I do.” She sighed.

  “We’ll work on that,” he said, looking at their clasped hands with a furrowed brow. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he turned her hand in his, inspecting the grooves of her palm. Sera ripped it away from him. “For now, let’s eat… and I mean eat. There will be no more sharing with Snik. He’s proved he can hunt for his own meals. I’ll cook them if he wants, but you’re wasting away.”

  “Again with the commenting on a witch’s figure,” she said, rolling up her makeshift bed. He handed her a piece of bread, and she took it and began to chew. “Butter would make this edible.”

  “I’ll get some butter for you in the next town, Queenie.” Alistair glanced at her sidelong, and she bit back a smirk. “We’re headed to Port Sidnah. I overheard talk last night about an oracle holing up there.”

  “We need to stop at the ruins first. Port Sidnah is almost to the sea.”

  Al nodded in agreement. “Well, it was the lead we needed. I just wish we’d learned a little more before… well, before the night went to shit.”

  She forced down the dry crusty bread. Her appetite had evaporated at the mention of the tavern.

  “Don’t do that,” Alistair said.

  “Do what?”

  “Get quiet like you did something wrong. That wasn’t your fault.”

  In another life, she’d be relieved he hadn’t figured it out. In this moment, all she wanted was to be seen.

  He’d saved her twice now.

  He offered protection and power, but she lied to him. Hid this abomination that ran rampant through her veins.

  Dominick had been forgiving, but a captain in the Solarni Legion?

  Taking in his gaze, the concern on his face, the way the side of his mouth crept upward with every passing second, she stared at him. She wondered what his expression would be when he realized she shouldn’t be permitted to live.

  She thought of how his features would change—a scowl, then tight manacles around her wrists. Sera had no doubt he’d report her. He had a duty, and that duty wasn’t to her.

  No matter how much she wanted it to be.

  Chapter twenty-six

  Dominick

  The dawn light streamed through his curtains, bathing sleeping Theo in golden sunlight.

  Dominick had begged for forgiveness last night, something he’d never done before. And it’d been worth it. After those winged soldiers, and then dinner, it seemed important they stick together and figure out why the Council was lying to them.

  And why were so many Legion soldiers dying? Dominick hoped that the swords on the winged soldiers’ backs were to help coven members, but… he couldn’t help but wonder if something far more sinister was afoot.

  He settled further into his pillows, trying very carefully not to disturb Theo, and opened his journal to read Sera’s entry.

  Aliato.

  Of course Sera would know what they were. There was no one better to find out the origin of a species than Seraphina Wildrick. When they were young, she’d always had her head in some crusty book.

  The aliato had spooked the entire coven. Not that they hadn’t been uneasy already. He’d checked in with his mother a few times already this week. She’d been worried, and if he thought she had the ability, he was sure she’d be pulling strings herself to check on his brother. No word. There had been no word for weeks, and Dom couldn’t stop a pit forming in his stomach.

  A blanket of paranoia and rumor had descended on the Citadel, affecting everyone but the Council of Elders, it seemed. The entire situation was fucked.

  Theo’s hair was strands of yellow silk across his pillow. He stirred as Dom brushed his fingers along Theo’s brow. A feeling somewhere between fear and longing tumbled through him every time he looked at the warlock, and this moment was no exception. It was unnerving.

  Theo inched closer and wrapped an arm around Dom’s bare waist. Dominick smiled before sliding from under the duvet to get dressed.

  “What are you doing?” Theo’s groggy voice called to him.

  “I’ve got to talk to Lavinia today.”

  “We’re off today. Go tomorrow… Come back to bed.”

  “I’m going to try and meet her at her house rather than the office. Maybe the element of surprise will get her to tell me something.”

  Theo sat up. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No. Get some more sleep. I’ll be back soon.” Dom kissed Theo’s forehead and left his flat.

  He had trouble stopping a smile from creeping across his cheeks as he walked to the Wildrick residence. It was unnatural the way Sera’s mom could be so calm in a scenario where demons had kidnapped one daughter and the other was outside the fortress walls.

  The entire situation was fucked. One day, Shadow help him, he would tell Lavinia exactly what he thought. That no mother had the right to treat her daughter that way. It didn’t matter that Seraphina wasn’t as powerful as the rest of them. She was still part of their family. She was his family.

  Dom did his best to build a barrier around his mind, walked up the stone steps, and rang the bell.

  Lavinia opened the door. Her usual braids were wrapped in a black head scarf, making her look even more regal and somehow more menacing at the same time. Her upturned eyes assessed him.

  “Come in,” she said, standing aside.

  He hated that she already knew why he was there. He hated that he couldn’t hide his thoughts from her. Sera had taught him once how to put walls in his mind, but he’d never practiced. Until now, he’d had nothing to hide.

  Lavinia gave him a disapproving stare. “I see you have been in communication with Seraphina. You know that my daughter is still alive, so what you can tell Sera is this: I am working with the Council to arrange an elite squad to save Honora. I also communicate daily with the master oracle regarding Honora’s lifeline and daily activities as best as the pools will show. She has not been gravely injured and is still being held captive.”

  Dominick shivered and worked to keep his mind blank. “Thank you. I’ve been very worried.”

  “You should be. The destruction these beasts have unleashed on the world is catastrophic.”

  Movement over Lavinia’s shoulder caught Dominick’s gaze. One of the warriors. His wings were tucked in tight as he moved at a slight angle down the hallway, careful not to knock into anything. He was massive.

  “Everything all right, ma’am?” the aliato asked.

  “Everything is fine,” she called back to him. “Oracle Benero was just leaving.”

  Dominick nodded and headed to the door.

  “They’re called aliato, Dominick. Light-bringers. Be sure to remember that.” Then she closed the door behind him.

  This wasn’t working.

  Galene.

  Sera had instructed him to seek Galene for information on these beings. Instead of going home, he turned toward Darine Hall.

  Jedan members were using their magic to clean the bleached white pavers. He did his best to stick to the sides of the street, keeping out of their way as he marched toward the Citadel proper.

  After providing Ithar with the initial chest of coin, he’d checked on him once more. The barkeeper almost kissed him when he’d entered Mystic’s and had assured Dominick that what he’d done was enough. It didn’t seem enough. Ever since he’d helped Sera, he couldn’t ignore the conditions in Jedan or the divide between the coven’s classes.

  Three chimes rang, and Chair Renata’s voice greeted the Citadel fortress.

  “Coven members, it is with heavy hearts that we announce the end of the ceasefire. Hostilities with the demon realm have resumed. As of this moment, our coven is back at war. We urge all coven members to remain vigilant and, above all else, trust the Council. There will be further information shared soon in a gathering in the Menage.”

  “Fuck.”

  The Jedan members around him froze. He could smell the fear coming off them. They knew the rules. Jedan was the first class to be conscripted, the first to die. Then Dobro. Daedeth was the last defense against a siege. They stayed within the walls to protect the Council and the coven’s very way of life.

  The most powerful hide behind tall walls.

  Dominick rubbed his face. Colton was already at the front. That’s why the Council had moved the Legion.

  “They knew,” he whispered. They’d been fucking preparing.

  He ran back to his flat in a blur. Sprinted up the stairs and flew through the door.

  Theo ran into his arms. Dom pulled him tight to his chest, breathing him in. They were both oracles, protected by their class. But Colton? Nora? Sera?

  “This changes everything,” Theo whispered.

  “I know, I know,” Dom said. “I’ve got to tell Sera.” He crossed the room, picked up his journal, and scribbled:

  WE ARE AT WAR.

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Seraphina

  Sera and Alistair walked south. The air was warmer, and the breeze carried a hint of brine, reminding her of home.

  But was it home if Honora wasn’t there? Her sweet sister. She hoped Dominick would have gotten her more information, anything to help this overwhelming pit of shame from swallowing her. Any hope left had been burned with her journal a few nights ago.

  Alistair was wrong. She wasn’t losing weight thanks to sharing her food. She was losing weight thanks to the images of Nora being tortured over and over again in her dreams. The fear of finding her sister dead. The guilt that Dominick was waiting for a reply that would never come. She hoped that those humans were right, that the oracle was near Port Sidnah and she and Al could go home.

  Sera had insisted they stop at the spot on the map she swore was the ruins. They were close now; she could feel it. Chair Renata had said doorways, plural, but she’d decided the night she burned the tavern in Ironoak that she’d provide the Council with one. That would have to be good enough.

  Snik galloped between the trees and underbrush, squealing and carrying on, driving Alistair mad. Earlier, the goblin had given her a rabbit, and ever since, he had been yipping cheerfully with the birds.

  Sera was pretty sure she’d heard Al smite Snik when he tied the rabbit carcass to his pack. She never understood men’s egos. So sensitive. And the one in front of her… she didn’t know what to make of him.

  Her eyes betrayed her by continually seeking him out, taking in those strong shoulders, his manly beauty. Al carried his pack on one shoulder. He’d stripped off his tunic early in the day, leaving him in only a sweat-slicked undershirt. His back muscles moved with as much grace as a mountain cat’s, fluid and powerful. And Shadow, his ass…

  Sera wiped at her brow as they trudged through the woods. The summer solstice was drawing near, and the days were getting longer. She wrapped her hair in a high bun, pushing the loose curls behind her ears.

  “Let’s take a break,” Alistair said. “I want to try something.” He ripped off his undershirt and rummaged in his pack, then stood with something in his hand.

  Her breath caught in her throat. The sun actually glistened on his chest. He didn’t even smell, if that was possible. She was pretty sure she did, after the way they’d been walking and the few streams they’d passed.

  “Eyes up here, Minnow.” He smirked at her and held out a leather cuff with a stone in the center. Hanging off the cuff were two chains with metal rings fastened to the end. She’d heard of enhancers before; each one was a little different, tailored to the witch or warlock meant to wield it.

  “These”—he held up the enhancer—“are for recruits. Give me your right hand.”

  She laid her hand on his gloved palm. “How did you know I’m right handed?”

  “I pay attention,” he said, much too smoothly. His eyes smoldered, turning her core molten as he slid the two rings down her middle and ring fingers. Once he’d attached the cuff around the width of her hand, the purple amethyst was centered and strapped to her palm.

  “The chains give you freedom of movement, while the magic concentrates here.” He tapped the amethyst. “Put your arm up, palm facing out.” He stepped behind her.

  “Now what?”

  “Where does your magic come from?”

  She peered over her shoulder at him. “Me? Where else would it come from?”

  “Coven founders save me,” he muttered. “Where do you feel it in your body?”

  “My chest.”

  “Put your left hand on your chest and keep your right extended. Take a deep breath. Instead of creating a barrier around your body, try to push the power out of the enhancer. Ready?”

  This wasn’t a good idea. The darkness within her was quiet now, but would it stay that way?

  Barijara. She whispered the spell in her mind. Inhaling, she pulled at her blue barrier magic, imagining it wrapping her arm and emerging from the stone in her palm.

  “That’s good,” Alistair said behind her. “Keep going.”

  She clenched her teeth, picturing her blue barrier as a beam of light instead of a second skin. The magic barely expanded past her hand. Her arm shook, and her body temperature rose as black flame churned behind its cage.

  Alistair stepped closer. “You can do this,” he whispered, reaching around to support her extended elbow. She pushed her magic, refusing to let him distract her. Then his gloved hand was on hers, planted right above her heart. “Come on, Sera.”

  His breath on her ear made her shiver. Lost was the concentration she needed to push magic through a stone in her palm. It was taking everything she had not to lean back into him.

  “Focus,” he whispered again, a hint of a smile in his voice. She was about to be putty.

  “You’re rather distracting,” she said, closing her eyes. Her darkness thrashed at his proximity. It was irritated, but Sera refused to let it escape. Not this time. She couldn’t let it happen again.

  Thankfully, the enhancer didn’t call to her darkness, only to the small well she’d been born with. Sera locked her elbow, and her muscles screamed in protest.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Keep going.” But the well only went so deep, and she was burning. She was sure that the only reason she wasn’t dust was because of her darkness. That’s how coven members’ magic worked… If the well ran dry, the witch or warlock ceased to exist.

  Her breaths were uneven as she pushed that bit of blue barrier magic through her arm, calling up every ounce.

  “Open your eyes.” Al’s breath tickled the skin below her ear.

  A blue dome surrounded them. Sera yelped a laugh, viewing the trees, the sky, all of it through a turquoise-tinted layer. “I did it! I made something.”

  The dome fell, and Sera couldn’t help herself; she leaped into Alistair’s arms. Turning in dizzying spins around and around, she couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that broke through her. She’d done it. She wasn’t defective.

  “Ahh, fuck.” He dropped her to her feet. “Shit, no more petting Snik.”

  She laughed at the two handprints that marked his shoulders. He couldn’t have been too upset by it because he stepped closer and gripped her waist.

  Every inch of her body went taut, his face serious as his eyes roamed hers, then dropped to her lips. Sera tilted her chin up to him, a blatant invitation that she refused to be ashamed of making. The planes of his face held a hint of suspicion, but she wanted this. She wanted to know what he tasted like and how his lips would fit on hers. Wanted him to make her forget every bad thing she’d ever done, and that the world was burning around her.

  Sera could see the hesitation in his eyes before the soft leather of his glove cupped her cheek. “Sera,” he whispered.

  “Al.”

  “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Snik barreled into the clearing, screeching. The goblin stopped and snarled. Not at Alistair. Snik was growling at something deeper in the forest.

  A wave of magic crackled over Sera’s skin. The forest was silent, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of something watching her.

  “Get my dagger from my pack… slowly,” Alistair said in an almost whisper.

  There was nothing she could see in the underbrush, but Snik was there, snarling and spitting. She’d never seen the creature act so rabid, but he stayed with her, guarding her.

  The cool metal of the dagger’s grip was firm in her hand, but Al… She squinted. Somewhere in the space of a few seconds, he had changed.

  Standing before her wasn’t the warlock she’d spent her youth pining over, or the Legion captain who’d saved her more than once on this journey.

  No. Before her, holding a sword in one hand and a white-hot ball of power in the other, dressed head to toe in black, was the warlock whose image was plastered over every wall in the Legion barracks. The same one that had been stained with red lip prints in the witches’ bathing room.

  “You’re the fucking Mesar, Al?!”

  A group of terrifying beasts emerged from the trees. The sound of their throats clicking made her shiver. Their limbs were long, the ends of them tipped with sharp black talons. Tattered cloaks covered the beasts’ bodies, and beneath their hoods the dried skulls of deer and elken covered their faces. Beady red eyes peered through the empty eye sockets.

  These were something other. Sera had never seen a species of demon like this.

  They clicked to each other, their bodies twitching. Two reared back on their haunches and lunged.

  Alistair threw out a beam of blinding light at the beasts, then swung his sword. He was a work of art. The black Mesar uniform had extra padding around his middle, shoulders, and upper arms. His hood and mask were in place. It made sense, knowing how sensitive he was.

  Snik crouched before her. She had her enhancer on one hand and the blade in the other. The two beasts who weren’t attacking perked their heads, and their masks’ mighty antlers scraped the hanging branches of the trees. Their clicking turned to snarling.