ELARA POV
Arrows punch through the wall above my head.
Cassian's weight crushes me into the floor, his body a shield. More glass shatters. More arrows whistle through the air, deadly and precise.
"Stay down!" he roars.
Lord Maddox isn't fast enough. An arrow catches his shoulder. He cries out, stumbling backward.
The door bursts open. Seren rushes in with soldiers, swords drawn. "The walls are compromised! They're climbing up from the cliffs!"
"How many?" Cassian demands, not moving from on top of me.
"At least twenty. Maybe more."
Twenty assassins. Against what—fifty soldiers in the Keep?
We're outnumbered.
Cassian finally rolls off me, pulling me to my feet in one smooth motion. "Get her to the tunnels. Now."
"I'm not leaving you to fight—" Seren starts.
"That's an order!"
Another window explodes. A dark figure swings through on a rope, twin blades flashing. Cassian meets him with his sword, steel clashing against steel.
Seren grabs my arm. "Move!"
"What about Maddox?" I shout.
The old lord clutches his bleeding shoulder, face pale with pain and shame. "Go! I'll hold them off—"
"You'll die," I say flatly.
"Then I die repaying my debt to your mother."
Something in his eyes—true regret, true loyalty—makes me believe him. He really did save me as a baby. He really has been living with that guilt for twenty-three years.
And now he'll die for it.
"No." I yank free from Seren's grip. "We take him with us."
"Are you insane?" Seren hisses. "He betrayed us!"
"The King forced him. That's different."
More assassins pour through the windows like smoke. Cassian fights three at once, moving like death itself—fast, brutal, efficient. But even he can't hold them all.
I run to Maddox and pull his good arm over my shoulders. He's heavy, gasping with pain.
"You shouldn't—"
"Shut up and walk."
Seren swears viciously, then helps support his other side. Together we drag him toward a tapestry on the wall. She yanks it aside, revealing a hidden door.
"Go!" Cassian shouts, running an assassin through. "I'll follow!"
We plunge into darkness.
The tunnel is narrow, damp, carved from raw stone. Seren produces a small glowing crystal that provides barely enough light to see. We stumble forward, Maddox's blood leaving a trail behind us.
"They'll follow the blood," I gasp.
"Let them," Seren says grimly. "These tunnels have more traps than rats."
Behind us, sounds of fighting echo. Steel on steel. Men screaming. Then—silence.
Horrible, complete silence.
"Cassian," I breathe.
"He's fine. He's survived worse." But Seren's voice is tight with worry.
We reach a fork in the tunnel. Seren doesn't hesitate, pulling us left. "This leads to the old temple ruins. We can hide there until—"
Footsteps behind us. Fast. Getting closer.
"Run!" Seren shoves us forward.
Maddox stumbles. I catch him, but we're too slow. The footsteps are right behind us now.
Seren spins, daggers in hand, placing herself between us and whatever's coming.
A figure emerges from the darkness.
Cassian.
He's covered in blood—not his own, I realize with shock. His sword drips red. His eyes are wild, feral.
"They're all dead," he says flatly. "But more are coming. The King sent his entire assassin guild."
"How did you know where we went?" Seren asks.
"I know every tunnel in this Keep." He looks at me, then at Maddox. "You saved him."
"He saved me first. Twenty-three years ago."
Something flickers in Cassian's expression. Approval? "Can he walk?"
"Barely," Maddox gasps. "Leave me. I'm slowing you down."
"Elara's right—you're useful alive." Cassian takes Maddox's weight easily. "Seren, lead. Head for the north exit. We're evacuating the Keep."
"What?" I stumble after them. "This is your home!"
"It's a building. Buildings can be rebuilt. People can't." His jaw is set, determined. "The King wants a war? He'll get one. But on my terms, not his."
We run through the tunnels. Each turn looks the same—darkness, stone, the drip of water. I have no idea where we are or where we're going.
Finally, we burst out into cold night air. We're on the north side of the Keep, hidden by rocks and trees. Soldiers pour out behind us—at least thirty men and women, carrying weapons and supplies.
"Everyone accounted for?" Cassian demands.
"All except the rear guard," a soldier reports. "They're buying us time."
Buying us time means dying. Those soldiers are dying so we can escape.
"We honor their sacrifice by surviving," Cassian says, reading my face. "Move out. We head for the Frost Peaks."
"The Peaks?" Seren's eyes widen. "That's suicide in winter."
"So is staying here."
We march into the forest. Behind us, Blackthorn Keep burns.
I watch flames consume the fortress, tears freezing on my cheeks. All those people. Dead because of me.
"This isn't your fault," Cassian says quietly beside me.
"How can you say that? The King wants me. If I wasn't here—"
"He'd find another excuse for war. Trust me." His hand finds mine. The leather band on my wrist pulses warm between our skin. "Elara, I need to ask you something, and I need the truth."
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
"When that band comes off, when your power awakens—will you use it to fight? Or will you run?"
It's the question I've been avoiding since I learned what I am.
Princess. Starborn. Weapon.
I look at the burning Keep. At Seren, wounded but loyal. At Maddox, bleeding to repay an old debt. At the soldiers who died buying us time to escape.
At Cassian, who pulled me from the river and is asking me to choose.
"I don't know how to fight," I whisper.
"I'll teach you."
"I don't know how to use magic."
"We'll figure it out together."
"I'm terrified."
"Good. Only fools aren't scared." He squeezes my hand. "But fear doesn't have to mean helpless. You can be terrified and still choose to fight."
Can I? Can a servant girl who scrubbed floors become a warrior?
I think of my mother, Princess Aria Starcrown, murdered by the King. I think of all the families slaughtered in the Purge. All the blood I cleaned without knowing whose it was.
Rage builds in my chest, hot and fierce.
"Take it off," I say suddenly.
Cassian stops walking. "What?"
"The band. Take it off now."
"Elara, wait. We should prepare—"
"The King just burned your home and killed your people! We don't have time to prepare!" My voice rises. "You said I'm the only one who can stop him. So stop treating me like I'm fragile and take off this gods-damned band!"
Silence falls over our group. Everyone stares.
Cassian studies my face for a long moment. Then, slowly, he reaches for the buckle on the leather band.
"Once this is off, there's no going back," he warns. "Everything changes."
"Everything already changed." I meet his eyes. "I'm ready."
He unbuckles the band.
It falls into the snow.
For a heartbeat, nothing happens.
Then—
Power explodes through my body like lightning.
Silver fire erupts across my skin, bright enough to turn night into day. My hair bleaches white in seconds. My eyes burn violet.
Magic pours through my veins—ancient, furious, unstoppable.
I scream.
Not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming force of it. This power has been trapped inside me for twenty-three years, building, growing, waiting.
And now it's free.
The snow around us melts in a perfect circle. Trees groan and crack. The very air shimmers with heat and light.
I'm burning. I'm drowning. I'm flying.
I'm everything I was never supposed to be.
Through the chaos, I hear Cassian's voice: "Elara! Look at me! Focus!"
I find his gray eyes in the brightness.
"Breathe," he commands. "You control it. It doesn't control you."
I try. Gods, I try.
But the magic has other ideas.
Silver flames shoot from my hands, streaking into the sky like falling stars in reverse.
An
d in the distance, drawn by the light like moths to flame, I hear them.
War horns.
The King's army has found us.