Page 152 of Cursed Dreams
“You felt it,” he said. “When the veil parted. When the forestlet you in. That wasn’t chance. That wastruth. That wasbirthright.”
“I’m not like you,” she hissed, stumbling back. “I can’t be.”
But even as she said it, memories flared in her mind, her power surging without warning, the light that blasted Vaelith back in his own rooms, the way the forest seemed toknowher…
She turned to her father, pleading for him to tell her it wasn’t true.
Rodric’s expression was tight, panicked. “You don’t have to listen to this,” he said quickly. “He’s twisting it. You’reyou. That’s all that matters.”
“She more than you have ever realised or bargained for she’s, my ma...”
Rodrick swung his sword at Vaelith’s back piercing his shoulder.
“No!” she screamed.
But it was too late. Rodric surged forward, again sword raised high, a wave ofblindingblue magic pulsed outward from him and slammed into Vaelith like a thunderclap.
Vaelith was thrown back, crashing against the base of the ruined sarcophagus. Dust rained down from the shattered stone.
Thalia stood frozen, mouth parted, unable to process what she had just seen.
Rodric’s eyes were wide. His chest heaved. The sword trembled in his hands.
“Thal” Nyla whispered dragging her away from both males, “that wasn’t lesser magic …”
“No,” Thalia breathed.
Shadows and blue light crashed through the clearing, bursting across ancient stone and splintering the vines that curled around the temple.
Vaelith was on his feet in an instant, his roar echoing off the trees, wings bursting forth from his back in a flare of shadow and gold.
Thalia stared at him, rooted to the ground, her breath caught in her throat. His wings were massive, impossibly vast, forged from darkness threaded with molten veins of gold that shimmered like living flames around the edges. They moved with terrifying grace, unfurling into the sky like a god’s wrath made flesh. Awe surged in her chest, sharp and electric. A chill crawling over her skin as the truth settled deep in her bones. He wasn’t just powerful; he was beautiful and monstrous.
“HOW?” he bellowed, charging at Rodric like a storm given flesh.
Rodric met him head-on, his sword clashing with a snarl of blackened magic. “You were always arrogant, Vaelith. Always too blind to see what was right in front of you.”
Thalia staggered backward, heart hammering in her chest as the air around them shimmered with power. Vaelith’s shadows danced and twisted like living serpents, striking toward Rodric, who parried with a surge after surge of bright blue energy, magic she had never seen him wield. It was fast, brutal, unrelenting.
Each strike of their battle sent shockwaves through the clearing. Trees creaked and split, stones cracked, and the old temple walls groaned under the weight of colliding powers. Rodric spun with the grace of a seasoned warrior; his strikes infused with something far older and more refined than any Thalia had ever seen.
“What is that?” Nyla gasped beside her, eyes wide.
“I don’t— I don’t know,” Thalia breathed, too stunned to look away.
Vaelith growled as Rodric’s blade grazed his side, burning through his shadows like fire through smoke. He leapt back,breath ragged, golden eyes blazing. He stared at Rodric for a long moment; his expression twisted in horror and disbelief.
“No,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “It can’t be. How did you escape the curse?”
Rodric only smiled, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. “The dragons didn’t curse everything. Some of us knew how to hide.”
Vaelith’s face contorted in fury, his voice rising with venom. “You’re one of them. One of the cursed. You were there that day, one of the generals of the High Fae!”
A gasp escaped Thalia’s lips. She turned to her father, eyes raking over him. Her stomach plummeted as she watched his form change.
He shimmered, the glamour unravelling before her eyes. He grew taller, broader, regal. His skin glowed faintly with the radiance of magic. His features sharpened into something impossibly ethereal, eyes glowing like distant stars. He looked like he had stepped straight of the portraits she’d studied in dusty texts, a High Fae.
Thalia swayed on her feet. “What—what is happening?” she whispered. She searched the males face before her looking for any trace of the father she had known “Where did my father go?”
