Page 132 of Ashes to Ashes

“The Morrigan,” I say suddenly. “She’s not just testing Ash. She’s the last of the old guard too. If something happens to her...”

“Then there’s no one left who remembers how things were before the courts divided,” Tadhg confirms. “No one to guide the awakening. No one to teach the heir what she truly is.”

The oath mark flares with searing clarity. This isn’t about romance or even personal protection. This is about the survival of everything my bloodline was created to preserve.

When Ash fulfills her destiny, when she becomes who she’s meant to be...

We might lose her completely. But worse—if we fail, the Wild Court dies with her.

“The question, flame lord,” Tadhg says quietly, “is what you’re willing to sacrifice to keep her. And what you’re willing to become to be worthy of what she’s becoming.”

The fire crackles in the silence, casting shifting shadows that look like the end of everything I’ve ever known.

And all I can think about is the woman facing trials alone, unaware that saving our world might mean losing any chance of the life—the love—we’re just beginning to build. Unaware that she carries the hopes of every Wild Court family that’s been systematically destroyed to prevent this moment.

The guardian oath settles into my bones with deadly purpose. This isn’t just about love anymore.

This is about survival. Justice. War.

And I’m done fighting defensively.

26

ASH

My hands won’t stop shaking.

I lean against the corridor wall outside the interrogation chamber, trying to process what just happened. The three courts know everything now. My secret’s blown. Davis is captive. And tomorrow?—

Tomorrow I face trials that could end with my execution.

Tomorrow might be my last day breathing. Ice crystallizes in my veins at the thought, making every heartbeat feel borrowed. I’ve faced death before, but never with so much left undone. Never knowing I might die without ever really living.

The Academy corridors feel different now, like the walls themselves are holding their breath. Every shadow could hide an assassin. Every footstep could belong to someone sent to eliminate the Wild Court threat before trials even begin.

Twenty-four hours ago, I was Professor Morgan teaching combat techniques.

Now I’m Ashlynne Moonshadow, last heir of a bloodline three courts spent centuries trying to eradicate.

“Breathe, root-born.” Whispen’s voice floats beside my ear, his blue light dimmed to something less conspicuous. “The storm has passed. For now.”

“Has it?” My voice comes out raw, scraped thin by hours of magical assault and political maneuvering. “They wanted to kill me in that room. Would have, if not for the Morrigan.”

“But they didn’t. You survived. The protection held.”

Barely. When those three-court magics hit me, trying to strip away what they thought was glamour, I felt my very essence nearly tear apart. Only the Morrigan’s intervention stopped them from accidentally committing regicide through ignorance.

The debt bond on my wrist pulses suddenly, silver thread that connects back toward the northern tower. Kieran felt my distress through whatever magical connection we’ve forged.

Before I can decide whether to follow that pull, arctic air sweeps through the corridor.

“Troublesome thing.”

The voice slides between my ribs like silk-wrapped steel. I turn to find Kieran materializing from shadows, winter-pale eyes cataloging me from head to toe.

“You look like you’ve been through hell,” he says, moving closer.

“Feel like it too.” I push off from the wall, legs steadier than expected. “Your father’s representatives were... thorough.”

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