Page 25 of Magic Unmasked

Lilith stepped forward, her sword glowing with magic. “I’m done following orders,” she hissed. “It’s time someone knocked you off your throne.”

Oberon’s smile faltered just slightly, and that was all Ronan needed.

With a roar, Ronan—his massive, fur-covered body a blur of muscle and fury—bounded across the marble floor, claws scraping against stone as he lunged for Oberon.

Oberon raised his hand, summoning a wall of shimmering magic to stop the charge, but Zephyr was faster. With a flick of his blades, he shattered the barrier in a flash of light, opening a path for Ronan.

Ronan hit Oberon head-on, claws sinking deep into the fae lord’s pristine robes. He slammed Oberon into a column, the impact sending shards of marble flying.

Oberon snarled, his perfect composure cracking. A pulse of dark magic exploded from him, throwing Ronan back across the chamber, but Lilith was there in an instant. She launched herself at Oberon, her wings propelling her forward with deadly speed. Her sword met Oberon’s conjured staff in a clash of magic and steel that sent sparks flying.

Zephyr and Maeve moved in perfect sync, weaving spells and steel as they held off the elite guards stationed at the chamber’s edges. Zephyr’s twin blades danced through the air, cutting down the guards before they could summon more reinforcements, while Maeve’s ancient magic wove through the battlefield like creeping vines, binding their enemies in place.

For a moment—just a moment—it seemed they were winning.

Ronan shifted back to his human form, panting but ready for the next strike. “We’ve got him!” he growled, wiping the blood from his mouth. He could feel the victory on the horizon, the tide turning in their favor.

Oberon was on his knees now, his robes tattered, blood trickling from his temple. Lilith stood over him, her sword raised, the glow of triumph flickering in her eyes.

But then the air in the chamber shifted.

The doors to the chamber swung open with a thunderous crash, and the remaining members of the High Council stepped through, their faces cold and impassive.

“See?” cried Oberon. “It’s as I told you, Lilith had been corrupted and has joined those who would see us overcome. We must destroy them, or we will all perish.”

It was obvious Oberon had planned for this, and the Council moved as one, their hands glowing with dark magic. In their wake came the elite guard, clad in black armor that shimmered with enchantments, their expressions devoid of mercy.

He could see Lilith’s breath hitch as the realization hit her—they weren’t just fighting Oberon anymore. They were fighting the entire Council.

Ronan swore under his breath as the chamber filled with hostile magic, the oppressive energy bearing down on them like a lead weight. He could feel the ground tremble beneath their feet, the walls humming with the combined power of the Council.

“Fall back,” Ronan barked, his voice sharp with urgency. Lilith hesitated and he grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Lilith, we can’t win this! Not here. Not now.”

She gritted her teeth but nodded, stepping back. “This isn’t over,” she hissed at Oberon, her violet eyes blazing with fury.

Oberon smiled, slow and deliberate, as he wiped the blood from his face. “Oh, but it is. You were foolish to think you couldchallenge the Council.” His voice dripped with smug triumph. “Now, you will pay the price.”

The elite guard surged forward, their weapons glowing with enchantments, their magic pressing down on the small group like a tidal wave.

Ronan’s sabretooth instincts roared inside him, demanding he fight—demanding he protect Lilith and the others at all costs. But even he knew this battle was lost.

“Go!” Maeve shouted, raising her hands. Thick roots erupted from the marble floor, twisting and curling like serpents as they slowed the advancing guards. “I’ll hold them off!”

“Like hell you will,” Ronan growled, grabbing the older fae’s arm and hauling her toward the exit.

Zephyr stood at their flank, his blades flashing as he cut down the nearest guard. “We need to move—now!”

The group fell into formation, moving as one, their steps pounding against the marble floor as they fought their way toward the exit. Lilith covered their rear, her wings slicing through the air as she blocked the spells hurled in their direction. Ronan stayed close to her side, his heart pounding with more than just adrenaline.

They barely made it out of the chamber before the Council’s magic surged behind them, sealing the doors with a thunderous boom.

They burst into the courtyard beyond the Council Hall, the night air cold against their sweat-dampened skin. They made their way out of the fae realm. Ronan’s breath came in heavy gasps as they stumbled to a halt, their bodies battered and bruised but still standing.

“They’re going to hunt us,” Lilith whispered, her voice filled with a grim certainty.

Ronan nodded, his golden eyes locked on hers. “Let them try.”

Zephyr sheathed his blades, his expression grim. “We bought ourselves some time, but not much. The Council won’t stop until they’ve crushed anyone who stands against them.”

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