Storm magic wasn’t subtle either. The wind rose to a shriek, and lightning—real lightning, not Aero’s dragon-born version—began striking the void creatures with devastating precision. Cassia stood in the eye of her own hurricane, rain streaming around her, her usually wild energy channeled into something focused and lethal.
Narla worked at the perimeter, placing her truth candles at key points around the battle. Wherever the candles burned, the void creatures couldn’t hide, couldn’t misdirect, couldn’t use shadow to their advantage. The flames revealed their true nature—absence given form—and in being seen, they lost some of their power.
Wyatt fought beside Narla in panther form, sleek and deadly, protecting his mate while she worked her magic. Six months claimed, and they moved like they’d been partners for decades.
It was working. The combined forces of Haven Shores were holding the line, keeping the void creatures at bay while the Hollow King strained against the thinning barrier.
But holding wasn’t winning.
And Lunaria could see what the others couldn’t—the barrier wasn’t going to hold. The Convergence was still strengthening, the alignment still perfecting itself. In minutes, maybe less, the Hollow King would cross fully.
And then nothing would stop it from feeding on every bond in Haven Shores.
THIRTY-EIGHT
LUNARIA
She reached for the stars.
Deia’s ring flared on her finger, focusing her celestial magic into something sharp and precise. The orrery responded, its living mechanism humming with power as she channeled energy through it for the first time.
Starlight. Pure celestial power, drawn down from the aligned heavens, focused through the ring into a beam of blazing brilliance.
She aimed it at the Hollow King.
The entity recoiled. Actually recoiled, its void-form rippling as the starlight struck. But it didn’t burn. Didn’t dissolve. Just absorbed the energy, adapted, and pressed forward again.
Celestial magic,it observed, almost amused.Yes, the previous witch tried that too. It hurt, briefly. But I am older than your stars, little witch. I existed in the void between them before they learned to shine. You cannot burn what was never meant to be lit.
More power. She needed more power.
Lunaria dug deeper, pulling harder at the celestial currents, channeling everything she had through the orrery. The ring blazed hot enough to sear her skin. The beam intensified,punching into the Hollow King’s form with enough force to make it actually pause its advance.
But still not enough. Not nearly enough.
And then the Hollow King struck back.
Void energy poured toward the orrery—a focused assault, aimed directly at the weapon that threatened it. Not enough to destroy her, not yet, but enough to overwhelm her defenses, to silence the one thing that could hurt it before it crossed fully.
Lunaria braced herself for the impact.
It never came.
Hux intercepted.
His lion form blazed—not with reflected starlight but with her magic, channeled through their fragile bond, making him greater than flesh and fang. He crashed into the void assault like a meteor, claws extended, burning with celestial fire.
The darkness recoiled from his touch.
But he didn’t retreat. Didn’t falter. Planted himself between her and the entity that had been eating his family for generations, and roared defiance at the impossible.
The Holt boy.The Hollow King’s attention shifted, something that might have been recognition in its vast, hungry presence.You are mine. Your bloodline has fed me since before your grandfather was born. Every future you might have had, every bond you might have formed—already consumed. There is nothing left of you to fight for.
Hux’s lion roared again, and Lunaria felt the words through their bond:
Wrong.
He tore into the void assault with renewed fury, claws that burned like small suns rending through the darkness. Every strike cost him—she could feel the energy draining from him, the toll of channeling starlight through a body that had never been meant for it.
