I spent the night lying awake, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The dark fae, their transformations, and the wolves my council had mentioned swirled in my mind like a storm I couldn’t escape.

The following day, I woke with a jolt, my heart pounding in my chest as the remnants of a nightmare clung to me. I sat up, gasping for air, sweat dripping from my brow. Panic surged through me. Was I going to become one of them? Do I know too much about their realm now? Will they let me go back home? Do I want to go back home?

A knock on the door snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. I hesitated before opening it to find Sylvain standing there, concern etched across her face.

“Little light, are you okay?” she asked gently.

“No,” I choked out, tears blurring my vision as I held them up for her to see.

Sylvain stepped forward, taking my hands in hers. Her voice was steady and calm.

“Listen to me. You’ll be alright. Trust me on this.” She smiled softly. “Now, are you hungry?”

I blinked at her in disbelief. “Hungry? How can you think about food right now?”

She laughed, the sound warm and reassuring. “I was a Brownie before I changed. Food’s kind of a big deal for me.”

I managed a faint smile. “What changed you? I thought Brownies just cooked and cleaned.”

“Oh, I burned an egg,” she said with a grin. “And went full meltdown, ended up burning the entire kitchen down, and most of the estate with it.”

"I'd much rather go to the garden, I think," I said sheepishly.

She nodded her head and started leading the way. I was grateful that she knew I wanted to walk instead of letting her portal us. I was beginning to smell fresh flowers when Drakaris appeared, his presence commanding the space.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said smoothly despite sounding tired. “Sylvain, could you bring a few plates to my study?”

“Of course, my lord,” Sylvain replied with a quick bow before slipping away.

Drakaris turned his intense gaze to me. “As for you, Miss Lightness, come with me. We have matters to discuss.”

Unease prickled at my skin, but I followed him through the long halls into his study. The room was small but impressive, with high ceilings and walls lined with shelves stuffed with books and leather-bound journals. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting golden light on the cluttered desk covered in maps, letters, and open tomes.

Drakaris released a heavy sigh. “The Lycans have changed direction,” he said gravely. “They’re heading south. They realized they were being followed and retreated to their mainland to avoid your troops. You could have saved a lot of headaches had you informed me about them from the start.”

"I did not think they were important to you,” I answered with a heavy sigh.

"My scouts have confirmed that there was fae on board," he continued, "but due to a treaty between mine and your realms, my people are not allowed to interfere with anything other than dark realm matters."

A chill ran down my spine. “The women who vanished?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“They’re alive,” he said with certainty.

My brow furrowed. “How can you be so sure?”

“They need them,” he replied, his tone betraying no doubt.

“For what?” I pressed, my confusion deepening. “Rune never told me anything about the wolves or the mainland.”

Drakaris raised an eyebrow, almost amused. “Then Rune has kept you in the dark on everything important. Allow me to enlighten you. I am Drakaris, former Commander of the Royal Guard. I even trained Allyster. I can also tell you that Rune is an egotistical ass.”

I couldn’t believe it—I was standing in front of a legend. Stories of his unmatched bravery and strategic genius were whispered in the kingdom, but his name was never mentioned. His name had been stripped from our histories. It was assumed that he had died in a battle against the Lycans before our ancestors left the mainland. And yet, here he was.

"Wait," I managed to say, my voice tinged with disbelief. "You trained Allyster? The Allyster who fought alongside my father, the Allyster who is currently standing guard in Crescent City right now?"

Drakaris nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes, he was one of my best. But let's not get sidetracked. You were asking about the wolves."

I leaned forward, curiosity and unease warring within me. "oh, right. What do you mean they need the women?"

Drakaris leaned back, his tone grim. "The Lycans are dying out due to the curse on their bloodline. Their females can't conceive, and even if they do, it often leads to the death of the child or the mother. For centuries, they've been searching for a solution. Fae women, however, don’t experience a moon change and can carry pregnancies safely."

His words hit me like a cold wave. My voice shook. "You're telling me... they’re taking fae women to breed?"

His nod confirmed the horror. "Yes, they’ve been doing so for centuries. In the past, they used iron collars to suppress our abilities. I imagine they’ve developed more sophisticated methods by now."

A shiver ran down my spine. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be captured, stripped of my will, and forced into such a fate. The thought was sickening. "Why hasn’t anyone stopped them?" I demanded, anger bubbling up alongside my fear.

Drakaris sighed deeply. "People have tried. Approaching the Lycans on the mainland is nearly impossible—they’re a defensive force, aware of every move. And they don’t hesitate to retaliate. This island affected our people upon settling here, which never happened back home. We never transformed into dark fae there, but the power in the land here affected us differently."

I crossed my arms, my mind reeling. "They've been coming here for centuries? Why hasn't anyone noticed people vanishing."

"Who is going to miss one or two lone women along the countryside? My son suspected they would go to the festival, but I didn’t believe the Lycans to be so bold. He went to prove me wrong."

"Your son was at the festival?" I don’t even know why I’m shocked by anything anymore.

Drakaris smirked faintly, clearly pleased with himself. "My son was at the gathering, naturally under my guards’ watch. The Twins also delivered quite the thrashing to your Lycan guests—probably why the Lycans retreated in such haste. They also told me last night to not let you stand on tables."

I sank back into my chair, overwhelmed. My whole life, I’d lived in the shadow of half-truths, utterly unaware of the magnitude of the threat we faced. "I don’t know what to do," I admitted, feeling helpless.

For a moment, silence filled the room, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Then Drakaris leaned forward, his eyes sharp and deliberate. "There’s another option," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

My gaze snapped to his. "What option?"

His words landed like a challenge. "An alliance with the dark fae."

I stared at him, stunned. An alliance with the dark fae? They were infamous for their cunning and power-hungry ways. The mere thought sent a ripple of unease through me. But at the same time, they might be our only hope.

"What would that entail?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Drakaris’ lips curved into a sly smile. "The dark fae are powerful. Resourceful. We've fought the Lycans for centuries, keeping our island’s people safe from invasion, but with an alliance, we could turn the tide of this war. But," he added, "we would require a seat at your council for a dark fae."

"What?!" I blurted out, startled.

He ignored my outburst, his tone turning instructional. "Dark magic is chaos, Little light. Pure chaos and power. It’s why people fear us—our powers are as unpredictable as they are formidable, and we are not bound to one type of magic. If you decide to accept this alliance, we can also help you unlock your magic."

Before I could respond, he stood and gestured for Sylvain to enter. With a dismissive wave, he motioned toward me. "Syl will take you back. Think about it, Little Light. Consider this as that debt you owe me for being wrong."

Sylvain appeared at my side, her ever-mischievous smile softening the tension. "Close your eyes," she said, gripping my hand.

I hesitated but obeyed.

The next thing I knew, I stood in Crescent City’s courtyard. Gasps rippled around me as guards drew their weapons, startled by the sudden plume of black smoke that heralded our arrival. Nearby, Allyster and Hawke froze mid-conversation at the top of the marble stairs, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern.

Sylvain and I stood in the clearing, the portal shimmering faintly behind her. She turned to me with that ever-composed expression, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and judgment that I had come to expect.

"Before I leave, keep the dress," she said, her tone casual as though she were commenting on the weather.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What? Why?"

She arched a perfectly shaped brow, the corners of her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smirk. "Because it looks better than the rags you stumbled in wearing."

My jaw dropped. "Rags? That was a perfectly fine dress!"

Sylvain tilted her head, examining me with the precision of someone appraising a particularly questionable piece of artwork. "Was it? I could have sworn it was held together by stubbornness and poor decisions."

I gaped at her, spluttering indignantly. "It was not! It was practical!"

"Practical?" she repeated, her tone dripping with doubt. "If by practical, you mean utterly unfit for traversing the dark realm and shredded beyond recognition, then yes, I agree. Very practical."

"It wasn’t that bad!" I protested, smoothing the front of the dark gown I now wore. It was soft, elegant, and, unfortunately, infuriatingly comfortable.

Sylvain’s smirk deepened, and she gave a graceful shrug. "Keep telling yourself that, Little Light. But I insist—this dress suits you. It says, 'I might survive this realm after all.'"

I narrowed my eyes at her, crossing my arms over my chest. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

"Immensely," she admitted without hesitation.

I let out a dramatic sigh, shaking my head. "Fine. I’ll keep the dress. But only because it’s functional."

Sylvain chuckled, the sound as smooth and sharp as a blade. "Of course, functional. It has nothing to do with the fact that it looks exceptional on you."

My cheeks flushed, and I quickly turned to hide the redness creeping up my neck. "Goodbye, Sylvain," I muttered.

"Goodbye, Little Light," she called after me, her voice laced with amusement. "Try not to ruin this one. It’s far too nice for your usual escapades. I’ll be back in two days for an answer."

I rolled my eyes as she stepped through the portal, muttering under my breath, "Dark fae and their ridiculous fashion critiques. Unbelievable."