Page 17 of The Reckoning of Starlight

“Two for two.” Ayla smoothed her crimson leathers. “I suppose it’s only fair they learn early that pain will be divided.”

Taryn twisted a braid around her finger. “I think he can take more. What else do you know that would please our king?”

Serenna’s vision wavered and her skin burned, but her fury seethed.

“He’s your brother.”

The words broke as they left Serenna’s mouth. Sharing blood hadn’t stopped Saundyl. It wouldn’t stop Taryn.

Taryn gasped, hand flying to her chest. “Oh, you’re right. He’s my brother.”

She drifted a step closer to Fenn, appraising him like damaged steel—measuring what remained, what might still be reforged. Her attention lingered on his limp wings, the fangs bared through pain, the blood blackening his scorched armor.

“Which makes him a pure-blood,” she said to Ayla. “Born to one of the oldest elven lines.” Her mouth curled. “You could make him useful.”

Ayla’s eyes narrowed. She adjusted the diadem at her brow, and Serenna braced as she watched contempt morph into calculation.

Taryn lifted Fenn’s Starshard again.

His wings flared wide, blood pulsing fresh along the torn membranes.

“Cleanse him of his wraith form,” Taryn said. “Let the king see what your artifacts can do. Keep a pure-blood beside you as proof that even a rebel wraith can be brought to heel.”

“Don’t pretend to grasp the intricacies of our courts,” Ayla snapped. “I gave you an arch elf’s power, not a place among us. The stench of the wilds still clings to you.”

Taryn’s smile thinned before she lowered her gaze.

Ayla let the silence punish her. Then her attention roved to Fenn, disgust tightening her lips. “If he’s to be useful,” Ayla said, “I’ll turn him myself.”

Serenna’s chest burned with each shallow breath. She tried to straighten, but the Starshard held her on her knees.

Ayla lifted her chin, then crooked a finger at the armored figures lining the wall.

Two soldiers stepped forward, eyes glazed and unseeing. Their movements matched too perfectly, boots clipping stone in a single rhythm.

Coerced.

They halted before Ayla in unison, obedient to the marrow.

Ayla shoved her palm against the first soldier’s chest. Essence erupted in a plume of light.

The soldier remained silent, hollow eyes fixed ahead, obedience holding him still while unimaginable agony gathered behind his sternum.

Serenna recoiled as he finally screamed, the sound striking the tunnel walls.

His body distorted, limbs elongating, joints cracking as talons burst from his fingertips. Chestnut hair darkened to midnight black, green eyes kindling crimson.

Four globes of Essence spiraled free from his chest, each one glowing with the color of a plundered ability. They circled Ayla’s outstretched hand, stolen stars dragged into orbit.

The wraith gave a strangled gasp before crumpling to the stone. No blood followed him down. Only the last thread of his scream, unraveling into silence.

Ayla never glanced at the body. Her attention had already moved on to the second soldier.

Six talents ripped free from the female’s chest in a blaze of wild color. The globes whipped into the first four, colliding with their twins. Pressure rolled through the corridor as Ayla merged the duplicate abilities, bursts of light flaring bright enough to sting Serenna’s eyes.

When the second body struck stone and the light settled, eight spheres circled Ayla. A full arch elf’s spectrum of power, plundered from two Wells.

Satisfaction curved Ayla’s lips as she turned toward Fenn.