He placed his hand on my leg, the touch gentle and grounding. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

“Miserable.” The word felt woefully inadequate, but it was all I could manage. My chest tightened painfully, each heartbeat an agonizing reminder of my loss. “The man I love is dead, and it’s all my fault,” I whispered, the confession hanging heavy in the air between us.

Movement in my peripheral vision drew my attention. Finn was awake, watching me through hooded eyes. The pain I saw there was like a knife twisting in my gut. The realization hit me with crushing force—not only had I killed Jaxon, but I had reopened old wounds for Finn.

The mug of tea in my hands suddenly felt too heavy. I set it down, my fingers trembling. The room seemed to close in around me, the air filled with unspoken words and barely contained grief. Jaxon’s scent, Finn’s watchful gaze, Kamaron’s concern—it all barreled down on me together, threatening to crush me.

I wanted to apologize, to explain, to beg for their forgiveness, but how could I possibly express the depth of my regret and horror at what I’d done? The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft clink of the mug as I set it down.

In this moment I had never felt so alone, even though I was surrounded by those who still cared for me despite everything I had done. I was adrift on a vast sea of guilt and grief, with no shore in sight.

Chapter

Thirty

Light filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room. It felt as if the very walls were closing in, silently accusatory. How long had Jaxon’s lifeless body lain in St. Louis Cathedral? Hours? Days? Time had blurred for me, stretching and contracting like a living thing.

I picked up the steaming mug of tea again, the scent of peppermint wafting up and momentarily cutting through the heavy atmosphere. As I took a sip, the liquid burned a path down my raw throat, soothing yet painful at the same time.

Kamaron’s weight on the edge of the bed felt like an anchor, preventing me from drifting completely into the abyss of my guilt. My magic, a treasured part of me, had been used against me. And the high priestess... The memory of her using my own dragon to hurt the man I loved sent a fresh wave of nausea through my body.

“It’s going to be okay, Peyton. Can you at least tell us what happened?” Kamaron’s words were heavy with concern.

I shook my head, mute, unable to meet their eyes. I felt their intense gazes on me—Kamaron’s gentle sympathy, Finn’s alert curiosity—and it was unbearable. My vision blurred as hot tears spilled over my cheeks, leaving salty trails in their wake.

“The high priestess used the Dragon Nexus on me,” I finally choked out, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “She forced me to shift into my dragon. I tried—gods, how I tried—to stop it from happening, but I couldn’t. And then something... Something evil came out of the Nexus.”

My voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might summon it back. “It descended on me almost like a veil, penetrating my skin. And then a force was inside me, twisting, changing...” I winced. “The pain was...indescribable.”

I looked between Kamaron and Finn, unease tensing their shoulders, and exhaled a shaky breath. “I never want to see that happen to you.”

Kamaron gently pried the mug from my trembling fingers. The loss of its warmth left me feeling even more vulnerable and exposed.

“And how did you escape?” Kamaron’s voice was soft but insistent, a steady tide eroding my defenses.

I closed my eyes, the memory surging forth vividly. “Raven,” I whispered, a ghost of a smile flickering across my lips. “She burst into the church. She… She was like an avenging angel.”

The scene replayed behind my eyelids: the thunderous crash of splintering wood, the silver dragon’s fierce shrieks cutting through the air. “And the Bloodborne Brotherhood—” I laughed bitterly. “They scattered like cockroaches when the light flicks on.”

My muscles bunched up around my neck. “All except”…my voice faltered, a chill creeping down my spine one spider leg at a time…“the demon Balthazar and the high priestess herself. And then the high priestess turned the Dragon Nexus on Raven.”

Kamaron’s eyebrow shot up, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Wait, what? Demon?” The words were loaded with fear.

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “There were two of them,” I continued quietly. “Balthazar, straight from the pits of Hell itself. And...Ari.”

The name felt wrong on my tongue. Tainted. “He was a Dark Demon. He…” I hesitated, the revelation stinging my tongue as if I had swallowed a wasp. “He said he was Valentin’s father.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Kamaron and Finn exchanged wide-eyed glances, the shock on their faces mirroring my own tumultuous emotions. It’s not every day you find out that your friend and ally’s father is Darth Vader.

I gripped the edge of my blanket, trying to anchor myself to reality as the scene replayed in my head again and again. The shadows in the corners of the room grew deeper and more ominous. What other earth-shattering tricks did the high priestess have up her sleeve? And how much time did we have before our world crashed down around us?

Kamaron’s voice quavered, fear bleeding through his usual composure. “You still haven’t told us how you broke free of the control of the Dragon Nexus.” His tone was filled with unspoken dread.

A fragile smile ghosted across my tear-stained face, a flicker of light in the darkness. “There was a man there,” I began, “beaten and half-starved...” My lower lip trembled violently, threatening to unleash a fresh torrent of tears.

Finn’s voice cut through the tension, hesitant yet hopeful. “Your dad?”

I nodded too vigorously and a ripple of pain shot through my neck, a reminder of the physical toll on my wrecked body. “Yes,” I continued softly. “He told me to draw on my magic, on all four elements.” I stared off, not seeing them or the room, only the nightmare back at the accursed church. “I did, and the Dragon Nexus’ spell shattered like glass.”