The artwork above is not mine.

•༻☾☽༺•

Seren rubbed her eyes and yawned, only half listening to what Jurian, Lucien, and Elain were talking about. Her mind felt strangely foggy. "I don't know what else we can offer him," Lucien said, pacing across the room. "We've offered him everything we possibly can."

Jurian ran a hand across his jaw. "Why did you bring her, again?" He jerked his head towards Seren.

"Remember when the dread lord told us his own wife and child died?" Elain asked. "I thought bringing Seren here might touch on his sympathy."

"I'm also daemati, if that helps," Seren added.

Jurian narrowed his eyes, watching her. "It does, actually. You should speak with the dread lord and use your abilities to find out everything you can. Search his mind for a way to free Vassa, or, better yet, influence his mind directly."

"I can try," Seren replied.

"Tomorrow," Lucien said. "It's too late to do anything tonight." He crossed the room and opened the adjoining door. "Come on, Jurian." The human followed him out.

"We'll sleep in here," Elain explained. "I told Lucien you would probably feel more comfortable sharing a room with me, than with Jurian."

Seren grinned. "You're right." They both changed into their nightclothes and crawled into the single large bed. "Do you feel strange?" Seren asked, rolling over to face Elain.

"No?" Elain raised an eyebrow. "Why? Do you? Is something wrong with the baby?"

"No, I don't think so. My mind just feels murky. I feel like I'm forgetting something, but I don't know what."

Elain wrinkled her brows, thinking. "I felt that way the first time I came here too. It passes eventually."

"Why does this happen?"

"I'm not sure. Lucien and Jurian complained about it too, at first. Don't worry. The feeling will pass soon."

"Hm." Seren closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

It didn't. She couldn't find a comfortable position to relieve the steady ache in her lower back. Seren tossed again with a sigh. Elain was sound asleep beside her. Seren sparked her flames to life and began to twist them in the air. A few shadows danced around them.

Her shadow tightened around her arm. It pulled towards the door. Seren frowned at it. "No," she whispered. "Remember what happened last time I went somewhere by myself?"

The shadow pulled again. Seren dissipated her flames and ignored it. It yanked harder on her arm. Seren glanced at Elain, then slid out of bed. She grabbed Metanoia and silently crept out the door. The shadow was pulling her down a hallway. Seren followed its lead through the large manor.

An eerie feeling stole over her. Seren looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She paused beside a painting that was covered by black cloth. Seren tilted her head and lifted the cloth gently, expecting to see the dread lord's dead wife.

Instead, she saw a portrait of three people. One, she recognized as the dread lord. Only, he looked different in the painting. He looked younger and more powerful. A woman stood on one side of him. She looked slightly younger than him, with long dark hair and abnormally black eyes. Another man stood to the left of the dread lord. This man appeared to be the woman's twin. The artist had portrayed this second man as somewhat translucent. The edges of his form were blurred.

The shadow was tugging at her arm again. Seren let the cloth fall back into place and turned down a flight of stairs. With a start, she realized where the shadow was leading her.

The dread lord's office? She thought. You want me to speak with Vassa, don't you? But Elain told me that all of their attempts to see her in her human form have been blocked.

The shadow simply led her onward. They reached the office where the dread lord had first received them. Seren tried the doorknob. It was locked. Her shadow crawled down her arm and slipped into the keyhole. A moment later, the door creaked open.

A red haired woman stood near the fireplace. Her head snapped up, hearing Seren enter. "Vassa?" Seren whispered. The Queen's large blue eyes softened. She shook her head and pointed at the door. "I need to speak with you." Seren came closer.

Vassa touched her fingers to her throat. She opened her mouth, but made no sound. Seren formed a flaming hand in her mind and sought out Vassa's presence. She found the Queen, glowing like a golden star. Seren tapped on Vassa's shields. They lowered, just a fraction.

There isn't much time, Vassa said. Her voice had a sweet lilting accent. Tell them to leave. All of you must leave.

Why?

This place...it's not what you think it is. The more you come here, the less you truly know.

Why does my mind feel foggy? Seren asked. I think I'm forgetting something, but I don't know what.

Vassa grabbed her hands, not flinching at Seren's scars. You must leave! He made this place for that very purpose.

What purpose?

I can't explain. He promised that if I told any of you the truth, my curse would become permanent. All I can tell you is that you must leave at once! Never come back here. Get out and remember! Tell them to remember. Tell them to be prepared. Don't let yourselves be fooled. Get out of here!

Feet thumped on the floor outside of the room. Vassa pushed her away, a fearful gleam in her eyes. Seren winnowed just as the door opened. She crashed to the floor in her and Elain's room. Elain bolted upright.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. Elain rolled out of bed and pulled Metanoia from Seren's grasp. "You're shaking. What happened? Where did you go?"

"I...nowhere. I'm fine." Seren pushed herself to her feet. Her head was spinning. I suppose that's why Madja warned me not to winnow very often.

Elain stared at her for a few minutes longer, then set Metanoia aside and returned to bed. Seren pulled the covers up to her chin, unable to shake the feeling that they were being watched. They did not belong. They had to leave. There was something horribly wrong with this place, but she didn't know what.

•༻☾☽༺•

Where are you? Rhys' voice hovered just beyond Azriel's mental shields.

He lowered them briefly. Ironcrest. I'm watching Erebus, Osiris, and Seker.

Where is Kallon?

Azriel scanned the camp from his vantage point. Kallon was training in a secluded ring beyond the huts. He's training by himself.

Is he still acting strange?

Stranger every day, Azriel replied. He keeps talking to himself and barely acknowledges anyone else.

I heard from Lucien. They have a plan they're going to test out today. Seren is going to use her daemati powers on the dread lord.

Azriel tensed and forced himself to focus on his half brothers. He'd felt her momentary panic the night before, but it had disappeared before he could question her about it and she never reached out to him.

I'll tell you when I have an update unless you hear from Seren first, Rhys continued. And I need you to accompany Nesta and Feyre to a meeting with Eris today. Mor and I are leaving for Cretea.

Can't Nesta and Feyre handle Eris by themselves?

Yes, but I want you there just in case something happens.

Cassian could go.

I didn't know you liked watching Osiris and Seker so much, Rhys chuckled.

I don't. I'm just worried about what they'll do while I'm not watching them.

Have Devlon send some of his own spies to monitor them. I want you to go to this meeting.

All right, Azriel sighed. He closed his mental shields and shadows swallowed him up.

He arrived in Windhaven and paused abruptly. Jorah and Devlon were hollering at each other. Surprisingly, Cassian wasn't intervening. Azriel joined his brother. "What's going on?"

"Devlon wants Jorah to stop giving orders. You can imagine how that's going over. Why are you back?"

"I have to go to a meeting with Eris, Nesta, and Feyre." Azriel cocked his head, watching the sight before him.

Jorah's crippled wings flared out behind her and she stared up at Devlon. "As you have so often pointed out, we are Ironcrest Illyrians, not Windhaven Illyrians. I see it fitting that an Ironcrest warrior should give Ironcrest warriors orders! If Erebus or Kallon were here, they would be doing the same thing!"

"They would have every right to. You do not," Devlon sneered. "Females have never led Illyrians, whether it be in a camp or in battle. That will not change in Windhaven. I am the war lord here. Orders come from me alone."

"Very well. Order my people around, then. See if they listen to you. That hasn't worked out so well in the past."

"Why haven't you stepped in yet?" Azriel asked, leaning towards Cassian.

"I want to see who wins," Cassian replied. "And Jorah told me not to."

"No flightless Harpy will give orders in my camp. I have allowed all of you to remain here as a favor to our High Lord. I could always rescind that courtesy," Devlon spat.

"Our High Lord has never had a problem with me taking charge," Jorah retorted. "In fact, he personally gave me authority to help train the Ironcrest females."

"Training isn't the same as leading."

"And yet I don't see Rhys here complaining." Jorah tapped her chin with a finger. "In fact, the only person I see complaining here is you. I will give up my authority if Rhys asks me to, and not before."

Devlon grabbed her by the wrist. Jorah's eyes widened in sheer terror. Cassian instantly started forward. She held up her free hand, stopping him. Devlon's angry features became thoughtful. He leaned closer, examining Jorah's wide brown eyes. He took in the few bruises that lingered on her arms. Devlon let go.

"You crave authority to make up for the time when you had no control," Devlon murmured, half to himself.

"Wouldn't you do the same?" Jorah rubbed her wrist ruefully.

"Who?"

Jorah met his gaze. "Someone who felt threatened by me. Someone who thought they had the right to do whatever they wanted to me. Someone who held my friend's safety over my head just so they could use me. Someone like you."

Cassian and Azriel shared a look. Azriel's hand lingered on Truth-Teller's hilt. Devlon came no closer to Jorah, though. Something similar to understanding gleamed in his eyes. "Who?" He asked again.

Jorah lifted her chin, not answering. She stared at him, only cold indifference in her gaze. "What does it matter to you? You would only sing their praises. I've heard stories about what has happened in this camp." Her gaze flickered to Cassian and Azriel.

"That was a long time ago," Devlon replied.

Jorah brushed past him. "And yet, the effects of those choices still remain."

"Keep standing up to him, Little Sister," Cassian said when she reached them. "I think Devlon might consider listening to you."

Jorah looked back over her shoulder. Devlon stared at one of his hands, the one he'd grabbed her with. He spread his wings and flew out of sight. A shadow curled around Azriel's ear.

Remorse, was all it said.