I turned to deal with Slade myself. The man moved like a soldier who’d bled in every war—and he fought like he had nothing left to lose.
Blades clashed, metal shrieked.
He caught me in the ribs with a glancing strike—but I didn’t stop. I answered with a backhanded blow that sent him sprawling into a column.
And then—something shifted.
The air…tugged. A ripple. Like a thread being pulled behind my eyes.
I blinked. So did two Sentinels near me.
Then the world went black.
I was blinded.
My hands flew to my face, scrambling to clear what wasn’t there—no blood, no injury—justdarknesslike ink behind my eyes.
I could smell his magical signature like it was blood.
Thorne.
“You traitorous son of a—” I snarled.
But when I moved—too slow, too late—they were gone.
Leo and the girl. Gone.
Slade. Gone.
Only the echo of Thorne’s magic remained—bitter and cold, clinging to the air like a memory trying to erase itself.
Chapter 47
Elira
The safehouse was tucked right beside the docks—an old warehouse that looked like it had been abandoned for years. From the outside, it was made of broken boards and rust.
But inside, Jasper led us to a hidden door at the back.
Phoenix had passed out in the flatbed, and Jasper and I were hauling him between us, as fast as we could without dropping him.
“Don’t die,” I whispered in his ear. “Don’t youdarefucking die.”
We shoved through the door.
The room was clean—bare, but functional. A couple of crates stacked in the corner, two makeshift cots, a shelf of supplies. No windows. Just harsh, overhead lights that made my eyes sting after the dark.
A woman paced inside—older, tall, with the posture of a soldier and muscle beneath her sleeves.
She spun the second we entered.
“Finally!” she barked. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Sorry, Lacey,” Jasper said, breathless. “Picked up a couple friends. We need your help.”
Her cold grey eyes landed on me—sharp and assessing, like she was weighing my worth in weapons and scars.
“This is her?” she asked flatly.
