Page 34 of Gua rdian of Blood and Shadow

The curse wasn’t a punishment but a protection—for the shifters as much as for everyone else. Their golden light had been tainted by the shadow, and they were losing themselves to the corruption. Muting their power also stifled the shadow’s hold. But it couldn’t stamp it out altogether.

A heaviness settled in my chest. So much of what I’d been taught was incomplete, history reshaped by those who survived to tell it.

“Remember.” The vision shifted again.

The Moon Sanctuary materialized, centuries ago but recognizable in its bones. A queen with my mother’s eyes stood in the Selenarium, surrounded by seven kneeling consorts, channeling so much power that moonlight broke through her skin like light through the holes of a sieve. It was too much. It was consuming her and her consorts. But it had to be done.

Beyond the sanctuary walls, the shadow had gathered once more, toxic and corrosive, assaulting the barrier between worlds. She and her consorts gave their lives to buy time for the next High Queen—my mother—to find a way to defeat the shadow once and for all.

“Remember.” Another shift.

The new scene was so familiar it made my heart weep. The night of the massacre. My mom kneeling before my sister and me, her eyes filled with terrible knowledge and love so fierce it burned.

Tears streamed down my face—not just for what had been lost, but for the burden of being the one who remained. For the weight of living when so many had died. The vision offered no comfort, only shifting again while my heart shattered.

“Remember.”

The final scene emerged from a swirling mist. Seven thrones in a circle, five occupied by shadowy figures I recognized as my consorts, two empty. Beyond them loomed a presence of such immense hunger that I recoiled instinctively. A silver cord stretched from my heart to each occupied throne, then split, branching out to shield us in a complex weave. But the empty seats created gaps in the protective sphere—gaps through which darkness seeped like poison.

“You must fill the seats. Complete the circle,” my mother said, suddenly beside me. “Choose correctly, and you can end this once and for all. Choose wrong, and the barrier will fall, and the shadow will consume the world.”

“What does thatmean?” I asked desperately. “Fill the seats? With who? Choosewho? How do I know who to choose?”

My mom pointed to one of the empty thrones, this one made of some otherworldly material that swirled with a cosmic nebula. “That seat is for an elemental. I don’t know who.” She pointed to the other empty throne, seemingly made of iridescent mist. “This one belongs to one who was once of this world, but no longer is.”

“What—” I looked from her to the thrones and back. “What doesthatmean?”

She offered me a sad smile, an apology. “I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know. I’m sorry.”

The vision began to dissolve as my mother’s form grew more transparent. I lunged forward, trying to grasp her fading essence, and though the scene continued to fade, she remained.

She raised a transparent hand to the side of my face, her touch tingling. “I’m so sorry, my shining girl. The moment you were born, I knew. You shone so brightly. You were the one we had been waiting for. The culmination of so much time and power and sacrifice. The return of what once was.”

Her form faded, consumed by the moonlight that had birthed the vision.

“Mom, wait!” I cried, my voice breaking as I reached for her desperately. “I don’t understand! Please—”

The moonlight intensified until it was blinding, washing away the last fragments of my mom and the vision.

“Remember,” she whispered one final time.

Everything went white.

When my vision cleared, I knelt by the pool in the center of the circle, chest heaving, dazed by the whirlwind vision and wrung out from channeling all that power.

Isador stared at me from across the pool, her composure shattered. “The past queens have never—” she began, then stopped herself, swallowing whatever revelation had nearly escaped. “What did you see? What did they show you?”

But before I could respond, my consorts broke through the moonlight barrier as it dissipated and converged around me. Javier dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands frantic as they moved over me, checking me for harm. Thane knelt on my left, Ash on my right, both capturing a hand, weaving their fingers through mine. Bastian settled behind me, those gold-dusted black wings he had revealed the other night flaring out, then wrapping around us all even as his arms curled around my middle.

Their combined touch grounded me, pulling me back from a precipice I hadn’t realized I’d been teetering on. And their blood, when it touched my tongue, revived me, reminding me I wasn’t just a conduit for power. That I wasn’t just a queen. But that I was a woman—their woman—and I was loved.

20

Icouldn’tsleep.Mybodyhummed with residual magic, making rest impossible.

Not so for my consorts. Even the vampires who rarely slept were out cold after feeding me so thoroughly in the graveyard. My need had been bottomless, my thirst seemingly unquenchable. I had drained them, leaving them ready to collapse. Now, Javier’s arm was draped across my waist, his fingers twitching against my skin. Bastian radiated heat against my back, and Ash and Thane bracketed us. My guys. My immortals. My consorts. They should have been enough to anchor me. To make me feel safe.

And yet…

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