Chapter 21:

The hotel room feels like a gilded cage, the kind of luxury that makes my skin crawl because it’s too quiet, too perfect.

The kind of quiet that makes you feel like something’s about to go terribly wrong. And it did.

The council meeting ended in disaster, and now we’re here, pacing the room like caged animals. Valentine's voice cuts through the silence, sharp and accusing.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” he demands, his tone low but laced with frustration.

He’s standing by the window, his back to me, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “I didn’t think it would escalate like that. I thought if I just explained—”

“Explained?” He whirls around, his eyes blazing. “You don’t explain to the council. You don’t argue with them. You follow orders. That’s how it works.”

“Well, maybe I don’t work like that!” I snap back, my voice rising. “I’m not some pawn in their game, and I’m not going to sit back and let them decide my fate without a fight.”

He steps closer, his gaze piercing. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about you fighting for yourself. This is about survival. They don’t care about your reasons or your morals. They care about power. And right now, you’ve made yourself a threat.”

I feel the panic rising in my chest, hot and suffocating. “So what are you saying? That I should’ve just rolled over and let them take me? Let them decide what happens to me?”

“I’m saying you should’ve trusted me!” His voice cracks, and for a moment, I see the fear in his eyes.

The fear that’s been there since the moment we left that room. “I told you what to do, and you didn’t listen. Now we’re both in danger."

I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but the truth is, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this.

The council—no, his father—dismissed us like we were nothing. And now we’re here, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What do we do now?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “We stay alert. We don’t know what they’re planning or when they’ll strike, but we can’t let our guard down. Not for a second.”

I nod, but the weight of his words settles heavily on my shoulders. Stay alert. As if I could relax after what just happened. As if I could sleep knowing that at any moment, they could come for us.

We don’t sleep much. The room is too quiet, the air too still. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the curtains sets my nerves on edge.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, staring at the door like he expects it to burst open at any moment.

I’m curled up on the couch, my knees pulled to my chest, trying to steady my breathing.

“Do you think they’ll come tonight?” I ask, breaking the silence.

He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is grim. “I don’t know. But if they do, we’ll be ready.”

I want to ask what “ready” means. Ready to fight? Ready to run? But I don’t get the chance.

The sound of shattering glass cuts through the room, and before I can react, the window explodes inward.

I scream, scrambling to my feet as three figures pour into the room. They’re shadows, dark and shapeless, their forms shifting like smoke.

Shades.

My heart pounds in my chest as they move toward me, their voices echoing in unison.

“The sunlit one. Give us the sunlit one.”

He’s on his feet in an instant, positioning himself between me and them. “Stay behind me,” he orders, his voice steady despite the danger.

I want to argue, to tell him I can help, but the truth is, I’m terrified. The little training I’ve had over the past two weeks feels laughable now.

How am I supposed to fight something that doesn’t even have a solid form?

The shades advance, their movements fluid and unnatural. He lunges at the first one, his movements precise and calculated, but his strikes pass right through it.

The shade reforms almost instantly, unfazed.

“We can’t fight them,” I say, my voice trembling. “We have to go.”

He doesn’t argue. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me toward the door, but the shades are faster.

They cut us off, their forms blocking our escape. I can feel the cold radiating off them, a chill that seeps into my bones.

“The sunlit one,” they repeat, their voices echoing in my head.

He tightens his grip on my hand, his eyes scanning the room for another way out.

“When I say run, you run. Don’t look back.”

I nod, my heart racing. He counts down under his breath, and on three, he shoves me toward the door while lunging at the shades again.

I don’t look back. I can’t. I run, my feet pounding against the floor as I race down the hallway.

Behind me, I hear the sound of shattering glass and his voice, sharp and commanding.

“North, keep going!”

I don’t stop until I reach the elevator, my hands shaking as I press the button. He catches up a moment later, his breathing ragged but his expression determined. The shades aren’t far behind.

“The car,” he says, grabbing my hand again. “We need to get to the car.”

We sprint through the lobby, ignoring the startled looks from the staff. Outside, the night air is cold, but I barely feel it.

He shoves me into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel, the engine roaring to life as he peels out of the parking lot.

I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see the shades chasing us, but the road is empty.

For now.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“The airport,” he replies, his eyes fixed on the road. “We’re getting out of here.”

Hi private plane is waiting for us when we arrive, the engines already humming. He doesn’t say much as we board, his focus entirely on getting us out of here.

I collapse into one of the seats, my body trembling from adrenaline and fear.

He sits across from me, his expression unreadable. “We’ll be safe at my house,” he says finally. “They won’t be able to reach us there.”

I want to believe him, but the fear is still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

“What happens now?” I ask. “They’re not just going to let this go.”

He leans forward, his gaze intense. “No, they’re not. But we’ll be ready. I've contacted Achilles. We'll see how we can maybe petition. It should buy us some time to figure out how to tackle this."

I nod, shifting to look outside the window as we sour up into the clouds.