Reckoning

The chains clanged in the dark as the fae guard’s magic missed me by an inch.

The blast struck the wall behind me, leaving a glowing violet burn mark across the stone—stone that shimmered faintly, alive with the natural magic of Fairest. Even the dungeons of Preservation Halls breathed here.

“Move!” Ian hissed, ducking behind a cell door as another shot of violet energy sliced through the air.

I raised my palm, Hollowflame flaring to life in a swirl of orange and crimson light. It streaked toward the nearest fae guard, illuminating the cellar in a fiery flash—revealing moss-lined walls, silver-veined roots crawling through the ceiling like ribs, and faintly luminescent vines reacting to every pulse of magic.

But the fae deflected it with his staff, sneering. His armor gleamed with opalescent sigils—symbols marking him as part of Oceanwave Court.

“Not bad for a princess,” he spat, charging another spell.

My jaw clenched at the nickname as I dodged the magic.

A title I never asked for. A crown I’d ripped off and burned the moment I learned what it cost others.

I’ve always been annoyed with that title, even when the Harts tease me. But they weren’t my enemies. They were my family.

“A princess who’s kicking your ass,” I corrected—and flicked my fingers.

The ground beneath him erupted, roots ripping upward like serpents. He flew backward in a burst of dust and loose glamour light.

But his partner was faster, his magic slicing through mine. My Hollowflame sputtered out.

“I got it,” Ian said, stepping in front of me.

His long blade glinted once, twice—and the guards dropped before either could cast again.

Silence fell—except for the hum of living magic under our feet. The metallic scent of burned glamour and fae blood hung thick in the air, mixing with the earthy sweetness of the enchanted roots.

“Thanks,” I breathed, glimpsing at Ian beside me.

He wiped the blade clean with his leather jacket sleeve, jaw tight. “You’re getting sloppy, princess.”

He ducked past me, golden hair plastered to his brow, brown eyes sharp and calculating even as magic burned the stone inches from his head.

“Or maybe the guards are just getting smarter.” I smirked. “Seeing that the family has been freeing creatures for years from this dungeon.”

“Fair point,” he agreed, the edges of his mouth curling.

We moved quickly, unlocking cages one by one.

Twenty years of practice had taught the Harts how to break chains without breaking the realm.

The imprisoned creatures—nymphs, changelings, half-breeds—scrambled for freedom, disappearing into the fractured shadows of the Preservation Halls.

Most of them weren’t criminals. They never had been.

Just creatures born inconvenient to a queen who preferred obedience to balance.

And the moment they crossed the gates into the realm’s open air, the glamours of Fairest peeled back—golden pollen drifting from the ceilings, vines glowing brighter, wings humming in the distance. Fairest might’ve been a utopia above, but its underbelly was a nightmare.

I froze when I freed the last unicorn.

At the far end of the passageway stood a cage unlike the others—built from blackened iron, carved with runes that thrummed with an older, harsher kind of magic.

Not fae. Not enchanted. Not natural. Wrong.

Inside, something stirred.

It looked vaguely humanoid, crouched low, its body half-hidden beneath torn shadows. Horns curled from its skull, wings folded tight along its spine. Its skin shimmered dark navy, veins glowing faintly red beneath the surface. And its eyes—

They were crimson. Sharp. Starved.

“Ian…” I whispered without moving. “What the hell is that?”

I’ve witnessed a lot of supernatural creatures the last four months in Everlasting. Both beautiful and ugly. Strong and weak. Dangerous and innocent. But my legs shook as I gazed at this creature, not even recognizing what it was.

Ian stepped closer, scanning the creature’s frame.

His brows furrowed. “That’s… new.”

I bit my lip to hold back a snap.

How could Ian not recognize this creature? That scared me more than the creature itself. Ian grew up in Everlasting, knowing more magical beings than I could count. And he was telling me that he’s never seen something like this.

“It’s not in any Everlasting record I’ve seen. Not dragon. Not demon. Not angel. I don’t even think it’s native to this realm.”

My heartbeat thundered in my chest.

Every instinct screamed at me to back away.

But curiosity had always been my biggest flaw.

Maybe that was why the Harts never let me investigate anything alone.

“Then what is it?”

My words came out breathless.

“I don’t know.” Ian said, firmly. “Which is exactly why we don’t open that cage.”

His eyes turned to me, sharp with warning. As if to tell me: end of conversation.

Most of the Harts reacted this way whenever I dug my nose into something dangerous out of curiosity. But what did they expect? I didn’t remember anything about this world, and if it weren’t for Willow and Charles’s lectures over the past four months, I would’ve been just a lost human-witch with magical powers wandering through it.

“It’s chained, Ian. It’s suffering.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. We don’t know what this thing is, or what it’s capable of, unlike the other creatures we’ve freed.”

Seeing that look in Ian’s eyes—hard, unyielding—made something in my chest tighten.

Ian joked through everything.

He flirted through danger.

He laughed through injuries.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen genuine fear in his eyes.

I’d seen it before. In Dean. In Destiny.

The same fierce protectiveness, the kind that didn’t argue or explain—it just decided. And for the first time, I realized Ian wasn’t just being cautious or sarcastic or charming.

He was scared.

Not for himself.

For me.

“Whose to say it won’t attack and eat us for dinner?” Ian raised an eyebrow, as if proofing his point.

I tried not to roll my eyes at his cockiness.

“Ian—”

“If that thing breaks loose, you’re the first one it goes for. You know that, right?” He titled his head at me.

The certainty in his voice cut through my instinct to argue.

I looked at the creature again—not the chains, not the wounds—but the hunger in its eyes.

It would be stupid to free it with that look in it’s eyes.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “We leave it.”

The sound of boots thundered down the stone corridor—heavy, sharp, carrying the aggressive rhythm of fae soldiers. Their armor chimed with bells of starlight—only worn by border guardians and Iridessa’s elite hunters.

“Fuck!” Ian cursed, wide eyes snapping over his shoulder.

A blast of magic slammed into the wall beside us, and the vines screamed—literally screamed—as their enchanted roots recoiled.

I spun, firing Hollowflame toward the guards.

A blast of fae magic slammed into the corridor as Ian and I ducked—

Not at us.

At the cage.

The shockwave rolled through the cellar—cracks spider-webbed through the cage’s lock. The metal groaned, melting under the heat.

“Oh no,” Ian muttered, crouching beside me.

The creature inside lifted its head. A guttural sound rose from its chest, something between a growl and a scream—too ancient, too broken.

Then, with a violent jolt, it broke free.

My heart got stuck in my throat.

The explosion that followed threw both Ian and I to the floor. Dust and flame filled the corridor as the creature burst from its cell, wings snapping wide. Its roar was ear-splitting—raw and furious—as it lunged past us toward the guards.

“Ian, we need to go!” I shouted.

He grabbed my arm, and we sprinted up the stone stairs—past glowing vines whipping in panic, past the roots that recoiled from the heat, past the stone that shifted as if alive. Magic in Fairest did not like what had just been unleashed.

We burst through a side door and out onto the court grounds—

And Oceanwave Court hit me all at once.

The moon burned soft rose and silver above us. Crystal spires rose between ancient trees, casting fractured light across the white stone courtyards. Fae homes glimmered high among the northern branches.

Smoke billowed from the Preservation Halls below. Flames licked at the roots of the great trees as the creature’s roar thundered through the court, shaking the stone beneath my feet.

Dean’s voice cut through the chaos. “Over here!”

Chase was already in the fray, fighting off fae soldiers near the living gates—beneath towers that were once peaceful, carved with runes of purity and harmony, now sparking with war.

He moved like a storm given shape—broad shoulders rolling beneath his blood stained grey t-shirt, as he swung Vowbreaker. His eyes burned cold and focused, sword crackling with stormlight as it tore through the air.

Destiny appeared in a burst of purple smoke behind him, dark curls wild, violet eyes blazing as raw energy crackled around her hands—magic bending to her will whether it wanted to or not.

She shot purple energy into the air, hitting guards on the towers where vines twisted in panic.

Behind them, Julian worked the Realmrunner, the engine thrumming with unstable magic—glowing blue against the pink-silver moon.

Julian’s fingers flew over the controls, jaw tight, dark hair falling into his eyes as blue light reflected off his face—focused, unshaken, brilliant under pressure.

“Let’s move!” he shouted through the window.

Ian and I sprinted toward them—but then a deafening boom split the air. The entire cellar behind us erupted, sending a wave of flames across the courtyard.

I turned in time to see the creature’s silhouette against the blaze. It screamed—pure fury, pure pain—then the explosion swallowed it whole.

“Eva, I swear if this was you—!”

“Not the time!” I barked at Dezzy.

Creatures—freed ones—scattered into the moonlit sky. Some flying. Some vanishing into the smoke.

Dezzy fired magic again, covering our retreat. “Go! I’ll get Chase!”

She vanished in a flash of purple smoke, reappearing beside Chase and dragging him into the shadows of shadowstepping.

The rest of us dove into the Realmrunner as fae guards fired from above, their arrows turning to beams of silver light.

Dean’s gaze found mine instantly, brown eyes cutting through the smoke. There was blood on his sleeve, grime on his jaw—but his presence alone steadied my breathing.

Relief hit me so hard, my knees buckled as I stumbled into the backseat.

Dean was alive.

Somehow, despite the chaos, despite the fire, despite everything, seeing him made the world feel manageable again.

“Are you all right?” Dean asked me, breathless as he climbed in beside me.

The sound of his voice steadied something in my chest that magic never could.

I nodded—barely.

The Veil flared—runes lighting up in gold and blue—and the entire machine jolted forward, racing toward the Veil at the edge of Fairest, separating it from other realms.

Ian heaved from the passenger seat. “Tell me we’re not doing this again next week.”

“Shut up and hold on!” Julian barked behind the wheel.

“We’re not going to make it,” Ian muttered, glancing out the window.

Behind us, fae guards cut through the night sky, their glass-like wings beating hard to keep pace.

“We’re gonna make it,” Julian said, through clenched teeth.

“We’re not gonna make it!” Ian argued.

“We’re gonna fucking make it!” Julian snapped.

The air split open, silver and black, and the Realmrunner shot through the Veil.

Outlaw’s night hit like a slap of cold air. Jagged peaks. Shadowed alleys. Lanterns flickering with blue flame. A realm nothing like Fairest.

The streets blurred as the vehicle screeched to a halt.

“Out, now!” Dezzy’s voice rang out as she and Chase reappeared beside us.

We leapt clear just as Julian slammed the brakes, abandoning the Realmrunner before it flickered and vanished, cloaking itself.

Wings beat behind us—fae soldiers giving chase—but Dezzy grabbed my wrist, and—

Darkness folded around us as she shadowstepped us all.

And we were gone.

Back home.