36. Rowan

I stare at Logan, my mind spinning as I try to process what I've just witnessed. The man I thought I knew, the one who had teased and taunted and even pleasured me, stands before me now, his hands stained with blood, his eyes glowing an inhuman gold. And peeking out from the thick mop of raven black hair are the signature pointed ears of an immortal fae.

"Rowan," he says softly, taking a step toward me. "Please, let me explain."

But I can't focus on his words. All I can see is the wolf. The fae.

I twist to Kai—as much as Kyrian’s grip on me allows—desperate to find him with a weapon in hand. With shock and outrage and a plan. But he's not looking at me. His attention is fixed on Ellie, his hand clamped firmly over her mouth as he holds her close to his chest. There's a gentleness to his touch, even as he restrains her, that makes my stomach twist.

"What's going on?" I demand, my voice shaking. "What are you?"

Logan looks down at his hands, as if seeing the blood for the first time. He wipes them on his pants, leaving dark streaks against the fabric. "We're not going to hurt you, Rowan. I swear it."

"You're fae," I whisper, the truth finally too real to be denied as the many small m oments click into place. The way the triad has always seemed too perfect, too strong, too fast. The preternatural beauty and power and experience that never truly matched a handful of twenty three year old cadets. The auric steel arrowhead, one that was never dipped in any poison but my own, stealing everything from Kai.

The way they had played with my heart and my body. The good parts that had seemed too good to be real. Because they weren’t. It’s always been a game to them.

Kai finally looks at me, his icy blue eyes unreadable. "Yes," he says simply. "We are."

He exchanges glances with Logan. Then, as if rehearsed, they let the rest of their glamours fall away.

Kai's blond hair gains a brush of shimmering silver, as if little flecks of starlight now play between the strands, his ears tapering to delicate points. Beside him, Logan's golden eyes become even more pronounced, and he brushes the tip of his tongue over the sharp points of his elongated canines. I can’t see Kyrian, but I feel a tiny tickling brush of magic pass over him and know that he too has changed. Subtly. Going from strangely, brutally beautiful to immortal. Perfect.

I realize I’m not breathing and force air into my seizing lungs. The numbness of surprise is giving way to fear and fury.

"I apologize for the deception," Kai says, his voice melodic but hard. Shadows flow from him, twisting around his body. And even the apology is tempered. Like he isn’t truly sorry at all. “But we had no choice."

Of course they didn’t. Not if they wanted to make their way into the heart of Eryndor defenses. Into our training grounds. To gain access to everything that gives humans an edge in this war.

Immortal fae against all too mortal humans. It was never a fair fight. Both our ancestors knew it, knew that no matter what noble intentions any one leader might have, the power balance between our species would always prove too much temptation for the immortal predators. That’s why the wards had been set up to keep fae magic out of the human realm, why the deadly Mystwood forest was grown an d populated with creatures even the fae could not survive.

But the wards did not last. They’d been corroding for hundreds of years and failing outright in the recent decades.

So the universe had shifted to adjust. Enchanters have become more common amidst my people, especially in Eryndor, which is on the edge of Flurry, the most aggressive of the fae courts. Humans able to wield magic. And occasionally, rarely, so rarely that it would take penetrating into the very heart of a Spire Command and remaining there for years just to have a chance of encountering one, an alchemist would emerge.

A human capable of making auric alloy. The one element that levels the playing field with the fae.

“I was your target all along,” I whisper, the horrifying realization crashing over me like a bucket of icy water. Every interaction, every moment of banter and flirtation and seduction, all of it orchestrated and calculated to get close to me. To gain my trust. So that when Kai told me to follow him into a forest, away from the Eryndor army, I’d idiotically follow.

I feel violated. Used. Utterly betrayed. Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes but I blink them back furiously, refusing to show even a moment of weakness before these monsters wearing the faces of the men I'd come to trust. To care for, despite every attempt to keep my walls firmly in place.

I struggle against Kyrian's hold, but he only tightens his grip, pressing me back against his chest. "Please, chaos," he murmurs. "We're not going to hurt you."

No, they probably won’t. Not yet. Their enemy is all of Eryndor, not just me, and they’ll want to milk that advantage to the fullest. Somehow. Just denying our army one alchemist would be a win for the fae, but they probably could gain an even greater edge with me alive and forced to dance to their tune.

Logan takes a step closer, his movements fluid and graceful.

Desperation claws at my throat. I have to get away. I have to warn someone .

“Let me go,” I demand.

Kyrian does no such thing.

"Let me -!" I start to shout but Kyrian’s hand clamps over my mouth to stifle the words. I thrash in his arms but it's like fighting against a statue. He doesn't even flinch. Summoning every ounce of strength I have, I kick back against Kyrian's shin.

He grunts in surprise, his hold loosening for just a fraction of a second. But it's enough.

I wrench my head free of his hand and scream with all my might. "HELP! SOMEBODY HEL-"

Kyrian's hand clamps back over my mouth, muffling my cries. I thrash and bite, but this time nothing works. Kai is saying something, his tone urgent, but I can't make out the words over the pounding of my own heart.

And then, through the chaos, I hear a familiar voice. Collin.

How in all the hells had I forgotten about Collin?

"Rowan!" he shouts, staggering to his feet a few paces away. His face is a mask of blood and terror, but there's a determination in his one good eye that gives me hope. And he has his crossbow back in his hands. Thank fucking gods. He is a narcissistic power hungry asshole, but he is loyal to Eryndor and he has had enough wit about him to stay down and stay quiet and listen despite his pain.

With a burst of adrenaline, I manage to tear my face free one more time. "Collin!" I gasp out. "Get the commandant! Tell her the truth! Tell her they're fa-"

Kyrian's grip shifts, a final harsh adjustment against my rebellion. One hand clamps firmly over my mouth while the other pins my arms to my sides. He lifts me off my feet, my legs kicking futilely in the air.

Collin is already moving, his auric steel crossbow the only protection against the fae. But he is putting Eryndor first now, bellowing the truth at the top of his lungs. Even if the triad kills him now—and I know he’d get an arrow into one of them in the process if they tried—the message will be delivered.

I struggle with every ounce of strength I possess, just as Ellie is doing now, b ut we are like mice fighting mountains. My back flush to Kyrian’s front, his arms a vice around my torso. I feel his heart beating steadily and strong, a sharp contrast to my own erratic pulse. His breath is hot against my ear as he leans in close and whispers, "I'm sorry, chaos. But we can't let you go."

There's a note of genuine regret in his voice, but it's overshadowed by grim determination. I realize with sinking dread that no amount of fighting will free me now. Kyrian's hold is absolute, inescapable.

“Fae agents taking the alchemist,” Collin keeps shouting with each hard won breath as he hauls himself back toward the main camp.. Determined to deliver the message even if the effort will kill him. “The triad are fae. The fae have Rowan.”

A signal horn blows three sharp notes. An emergency acknowledgement of dire intel. The commandant has heard Collin’s warning. My mother knows the truth now. The triad’s game is up. Whatever happens, everyone now knows.

Kai curses. “We move, now.”

The order is sharp and confident. A warrior used to command. How had I not seen it before? The experience, the sheer power that’s coiled inside of him that’s too great for any mortal to carry?

Logan and Kyrian respond immediately. No longer concerned with my silence, Kyrian throws me over his shoulder—just as Kai is now doing with Ellie—while Logan shifts with a flash of light into a dark large wolf. Just like the one in my nightmares.

The wolf howls once into the night and then takes off running, leading the way through a forest so dense and dark that it would kill any human trying to follow at speed. Ellie and I don’t even slow the males down as they navigate the treacherous terrain with ease, leaping over fallen logs and jagged rocks, ducking under low-hanging branches that would have taken my head off. Their steps are sure and swift, propelled by the power in their immortal muscles. And I know in my gut, there is no way for any of my mother’s soldiers to follow them.

Kyrian's shoulder digs into my stomach with every bounding step, the discomfo rt nothing compared to the sinking despair that fills my heart. I've stopped struggling, knowing it's futile, and instead focus on memorizing the route we're taking. But it's impossible.

Beside us, Kai matches Kyrian's pace effortlessly, Ellie bouncing on his shoulder. Her face is twisted in fear and anger, tears streaming down her cheeks, but like me, she has stopped fighting. There is no point. Not against these fae warriors who outmatch us in every way.

Hours pass. I don’t know how many. The males seem impervious to time or fatigue. So when they slow, I know it’s not for any reason I’d like.

And I’m right. As Kyrian swings me off his shoulder, my body aching from the relentless jostling, all I can do is stare at the fae encampment sprawling across a dawn kissed field.

And in the distance, silhouetted against the fading moon, are unmistakable shapes of draken soaring through the sky.