Page 153 of Cursed Dreams
Nyla reached out, grabbing her arm. “Thalia… he’s High Fae.”
The words sent a tremor through her bones.
“No,” Thalia whispered. “That’s not possible—”
But her voice was drowned by a scream.
Vaelith lunged forward, powered by fury and shadow. Rodric barely had time to raise his sword when Vaelith struck, shadowscoiling, Bright hot white fire blazing, before driving his sword through Rodric’s chest.
Time slowed.
Rodric staggered. The blue light in his hands flickered, then went out.
“NO!” Thalia screamed, her voice breaking, her knees giving way as her father collapsed to the earth.
Thalia screamed as her magic surged, blinding white light erupting from her chest and crashing into Vaelith like a tidal wave of raw power.
He was thrown back, slamming against the moss-covered wall of the ruined temple, shadows writhing around him like smoke trying to rebuild itself.
“STAY AWAY FROM HIM!” she shrieked, stumbling over the cracked stone floor, barely registering the heat radiating from her own skin.
She dropped to her knees beside her father, no, not her father. The male who had raised her, protected her, laughed with her, bandaged her scraped knees and told her stories by firelight. A High Fae general. A warrior.
He was bleeding from his chest, the golden ichor of the High Fae pooling beneath him. Yet he still smiled when he looked up at her. Weakly, he reached up and cupped her face with trembling fingers.
“My darling daughter,” he rasped, voice rough and fading, “I love you. I always have. From the moment we found you. You… were a gift.”
Tears spilled down Thalia’s cheeks as she shook her head, trying to make sense of everything unravelling around her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why—why hide it all?”
He exhaled a shaky breath, his thumb brushing a tear from her face. “The curse… it bound us in more ways than one. It took our names, our power, our truth. Speaking of it was like drowning.” His gaze drifted past her, toward the crumbling sky above. “But you… you broke it. Somehow, you shattered the first chains. And now you must finish what you started.”
“I don’t understand,” Thalia cried, her voice barely a whisper. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing—”
“You do,” he said gently. “You’ve always known. Do not doubt yourself, you’re not alone.”
His breath hitched, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. “You must wake Caelum. Before Vaelith kills you and your friend. Before the others arrive.”
Thalia’s blood ran cold. “What others? The dragons—Vaelith’s the only one left. Everyone says they’re gone—”
Rodric coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips. “No… they’re waiting. Biding their time. Rebuilding their strength. But Caelum… he can stop it. He’s the only one who can. But only with you.”
Her eyes blurred with tears. “How? How do I wake him?”
Rodric reached, his hand brushing the necklace at her throat, the one she’d worn since before she could remember. “The key is in the light… and the shadows. Yours and his. That necklace… it’s part of what seals him. You were always meant to be the one.”
Suddenly, a violent gust of frigid air ripped her backward, shadows coiling around her like ropes and yanking her away from him.
“No!” she screamed, thrashing as she was dragged across the stone. “No, stop, he’s dying!” “Let me go to him”
Rodric raised a trembling hand; his final smile filled with warmth and sorrow. “Go, Thalia. Be brave. Be the light.”
Vaelith stalked toward him, gold and black flickering across his form, eyes burning like twin suns.
“You die now, General,” he growled, voice low and lethal. “And this time, there will be no return.”
Thalia’s scream ripped from her chest as she threw her hand forward once more, magic bursting from her palm in a stream of blinding white light.
It struck Vaelith squarely in the chest, hurling him backward again, dust and broken stone scattering like ash. He groaned, an inhuman, guttural sound of rage and pain, staggered, shoulders trembling.
