Page 73 of Fallen Nocturne

“See that you do,” the dark-haired commander says.

The other commanders nod, apparently satisfied.

A faint scrape sounds somewhere near the wall. One of the commanders looks toward the alcove. “Did you hear something?”

The youngest glances toward him. “You’re imagining things.”

“Has this room been checked?” The first commander does not look away from the wall.

Kharlis frowns. “No, but this is the Painted Moth. Thorn Vale guarantees privacy to every guest.”

“Still, we should be cautious.” The first commander’s gaze moves slowly around the room. “Check the room.”

My heart stops.

I can feel Arescaine tense beside me. His hand tightens on mine.

The youngest commander rises from his chair and moves into the center of the room. He lifts both hands and begins speaking in one of the oldest fae tongues. I recognize fragments from texts written before the first elven kingdoms. The words come too quickly for me to understand.

The air grows hot. The wine inside the goblets trembles, and the flames in the lamps lengthen toward the ceiling.

“What is he doing?” Kharlis asks.

“Checking for listeners,” the dark-haired commander answers. “Spies. The spell will burn anyone hiding nearby.”

Fire erupts from the young commander’s hands. The flames do not spread wildly. They move across the carpets and climb the walls in branching streams, searching with purpose through every corner and concealed space.

The heat reaches the alcove.

Arescaine moves before I can react. He draws me hard against his chest and wraps both wings completely around me, sealing me inside a living cocoon.

The fire hits.

I feel the heat through the wings. Arescaine’s whole body goes rigid with pain. His breathing turns ragged, strained.

But he doesn’t make a sound.

The wings hold and protect me. I am pressed so close to Arescaine I can feel his heartbeat racing against me and the tremors passing through his body as the spell burns.

The heat fades as the spell ends.

“Not a single being in this world can withstand the fires of Hellios,” the commander says, sounding satisfied. “We’re alone.”

Kharlis lets out a relieved breath and turns back to the map. “Now, about the reinforcements heading to the southern border...”

They resume their discussion as though nothing happened, moving soldiers across the map and planning where Avalon should strike next.

Arescaine keeps me enclosed within his wings. He is still trembling and in pain, but not a single sound escapes him. His whole body is drawn tight around me. He fights to remain silent.

I can’t heal him and risk the magic being detected. I can only stand there, trapped within the shelter of his burned wings, feeling each shudder that passes through him. He took the full force of the spell without hesitation.

The vampire allowed the flames to burn him so they would not touch me.

They talk for what feels like an hour. More positions are exposed and more strategies are shared. Kharlis calmly hands our enemies every weapon they need to destroy us.

“The queen has a weakness,” Kharlis is saying. “Her friend. The Maiden of Arawynn. If you capture Blaire Blackbriar, Her Highness will do anything to get her back.”

My fury sharpens into something colder. He would use Blaire against me.