Page 131 of She Who Holds My Wrath

I shoot him a glare sharp enough to flay skin.

He lifts both his hands in defence. “Hey, I’m on your side. Mostly.”

Ezra exhales slowly, running a hand down his face. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “Okay. I trust you.”

Those three words mean more to me than he will ever understand. I cross the final distance and pull him into my arms. His familiar marshmallow scent wraps around me instantly, sweet and comforting and achingly human. He hugs me back hard, resting his chin atop of my head. And for one fragile moment of peace, I just let myself breathe.

After a few moments, I pull away and turn sharply. “Lucifer, I need you to notify Aran. Now. Tell him a full council meeting needs to happen immediately.”

Lucifer straightens, all humour sliding away. “Realm leaders?”

“All of them,” I confirm. “No delays.”

He nods once and heads for the door. “On it.”

He pauses, glancing between Korithax and me before settling on Korithax with a wicked grin. “And for the record?” He smirks. “You only overreacted a little bit.”

The war room fills fast with worried faces.

I stand at the head of the table again, spine straight, as gazes turn towards me—Aran, Sariya, Elyistria, Maelkar, Vor’Khar, Virena, Danika, and Lucifer. Korithax stands at my right whilst Ezra stays near the back, hovering close to the wall like he’s trying hard not to take up any space.

I don’t waste any time getting to the point, because honestly… there’s no time to waste anymore. “They know Korithax is alive,” I say flatly, causing a ripple of reaction to move through the room. “And they’ve already started terrorising Earth. They threatened Ezra. Directly.”

Aran stiffens, his emerald gaze snapping to Ezra, filled with something like guilt.

“They’re escalating,” I continue. “Whispers say they’ve resurrected Særathi war beasts. Vorrythael. And something else—something worse.”

Maelkar’s shadows curl violently around him. I glance to Korithax, silently pleading for his input. I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’ve never prepared for freaking war. The closest I ever come to battle strategy was the whole gel pen drama between Talia and Ezra.

“We start training now,” Korithax says, and I let out a soft sigh of relief. “Joint drills. Cross-realm combat. Soldiers fight together, or not at all.”

Aran smirks faintly at his king taking command again.

Vor’Khar nods once. “Agreed.”

“And we need to push forwards evacuation plans for civilians,” I add. “Children first. Anyone who does not want to fight.”

Virena’s mists seem to ripple anxiously. “The leylines⁠—”

“—will be watched,” Elyistria finishes grimly.

I know Elyistria, Aran, and Sariya have been continuously testing new routes, each one more stable than the last. But we also know they’re being watched. Interfered with. The leylines are getting stronger, holding for longer, but whatever is trying to break them down is putting up a godsdamned fight.

Before anyone can speak again, the doors slam open. A familiar guard stumbles in, his usual vibrant green skin gone pale. “Your Majesty,” he gasps. “The wards⁠—”

Every spine in the room goes rigid, both Korithax and I reaching for our swords in unison.

“They’re rippling,” he finishes. “Only slightly. But… it’s not natural. Something is on the other side.”

Every heartbeat in the room picks up, hammering against my ears like a violent drum. They’re not trying to break the wards. They’re testing them. Testing their strength. War is no longer just coming, it’s at our gates, knocking loudly.

I nod once to dismiss the guard, and he slips back out, closing the door behind him. I fall into my chair and bury my face in my palms, releasing a heavy, tension-filled breath. I feel Korithax’s reassuring hand settle on my shoulder, softly squeezing as if to tell me he’s with me, despite knowing he would rather be anywhere else than in this room right now.

“I want to help.”

The words cut through the tension like a pin through silk, every eye turning to one singular spot in the room. Ezra straightens, nerves plain on his face, but there’s something else there, too. That fierce determination that lives in him. The part that I love so much.

“I know I’m useless in a fight,” he says quickly. “Like, genuinely tragic. I trip over air and can barely use a knife.”