Makaela trailed behind Emile and Amora as they made their way through one of the palace's courtyards. The small garden was sandwiched in between two open corridors. Vibrant trees surrounded by benches and stone tables decorated the grass.

She made sure to keep her eyes open for more Aegeon soldiers. She didn't pick up on any new scents or foreign noises. They were alone for the time being.

The trio of Shades crept into another hallway after passing through the courtyard. Despite the nature of their arrival, Makaela couldn't help but admire the palace's intricate architecture. House Aegeon's Greco-Roman influences shined through most of their structures—from the high archways to the massive pillars holding up the ceilings.

She glanced down at the polished floors beneath her. They were whiter than snow and glossy enough to reflect her face perfectly. Her eyes had returned to their normal gold hue, but she couldn't help but see the darkness in them. Faint traces of red lingered around her mouth.

She frowned at the sight.

"Where are we even going?" Amora asked as she took off her mask. She placed her hands on her hips, a bored expression painted across her face. "This place is like one big, boring maze."

"I think it's quite nice," Emile replied. He rubbed his bald head and paused for a moment. "And I was expecting to face a bit more...resistance? I figured the soldiers could've led us to Sirus, but I was mistaken."

"When is my father arriving?"

"Don't ask me."

Amora huffed and turned away from the man.

Makaela looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching them beyond a wall or a corner somewhere. She took a whiff of the air. She only strong smell she picked up was the blood outside the entrance of the palace.

"Where is everyone?"

Her stomach growled and she sighed. Apparently, she hadn't gotten her fill on those poor soldiers outside. Her inner demon was still feigning for more flesh and blood. A longing purr arose from her throat.

Feeding didn't seem to quell her thirst. In fact, it seemed to only make it more pronounced.

"I'm hungry."

Amora and Emile shared an apprehensive look.

"I'm sure we can deal with that after we find Sirus," Emile promised.

"Don't eat me," Amora warned her. She pulled down the neck of her robes, revealing the scar tissue near her collarbone. "I still have the mark from when you took a bite out of me."

Makaela subconsciously licked her lips, recalling the way the girl tasted when she sunk her teeth into her flesh that night in the forest. That night, everything changed.

It was a change for the better, though. She was sure of it. Because, this time, she was on the right side. She was determined to not make the same mistakes many of her housemates made years ago. With Thorian's drive and her power, they would return the world back to the magicians.

"Did you hear me, halfling?" Amora jabbed a finger in Makaela's direction. "Don't even think about eating me."

"I won't," she grumbled.

The demon inside her mind didn't make any promises.

"Maybe we should just call my father here," Amora said as she plopped down onto a nearby ledge. She swung her legs like a child. "This whole siege thing would be over and done with if he'd just show up already."

Emile cleared his throat while shooting the nineteen-year-old an unimpressed glance. "Thorian will arrive when he arrives. For now, we must find Sirus and do anything possible to sway the tide in our favor."

"It's already in our favor," Amora replied. She gestured around herself. Explosions sounded in the distance. "Thania is in flames. House Aegeon's forces can't match up with ours. They've lost. All that's left for us to do is snatch that gauntlet of Sirus Lombardi's dead corpse."

Makaela eyed Emile curiously as she watched a sickly yellow aura form around him. She hadn't seen that color before. The most common aura she saw on people was red; fear. She had never seen yellow before. 

"Why are you yellow?" She approached the man, sniffing the air around him.

He stiffened.

As she inhaled, a strange scent invaded her senses. Bearing her fangs momentarily, she jumped away from him like a spooked cat. "You smell awful."

Amora chuckled at her. "I think your demon senses are messing with you, Kae Kae."

"Do not call us that."

"Us?"

Makaela froze. Had she said ''us''? Her heart rate spiked. The demon inside was forcing itself out in all sorts of ways—from her speech to her actions. Frankly, it frightened her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before shaking her head. "I meant me. Don't call me that."

Amora held her hands up in innocence. "I was just teasing." She faced Emile. "Can we call my father now?"

"You don't think we can handle this ourselves?" he asked.

"Oh, I know we can." Amora hopped down from the ledge and sauntered up to him. "But I'd rather us conserve our energy for future battles. I've had my fair share of fighting for the day."

Makaela stifled a laugh. "Never thought I'd hear you say that."

Amora flicked her off before continuing. "If father was here, he would've found Sirus ages ago."

Makaela watched as Emile's aura took on a deeper shade of yellow. His features were tense, almost as if he was fighting to keep the emotion from showing on his face.

Why doesn't he want Thorian here?

It was clear to see why he was stalling. She just didn't know why.

"We're calling him."

Emile sighed, resigning to defeat.

Amora held her palm out, the purple mark pulsing fiercely. "Invocaris Thorian Thauvin." Her dark eyes glossed over, a faint purple hue coating her irises as she stared off into space. Her body went lax as she utilized the communication spell.

Makaela listened as the girl conversed with her father.

Within seconds, the conversation was over. The light vanished from Amora's eyes. She smiled sweetly at Emile. "He should be here any minute now. He thanks us for our hard work and dedication." She then narrowed her gaze at him. "Why didn't you want him here?"

"Who said I didn't?" Emile replied nonchalantly.

"I noticed that too." Makaela stepped forward, nodding. "The yellow aura I saw...that meant you were nervous, not afraid. Why were you nervous? Don't you want Thorian here?"

Emile scowled, a rare sight.

Amora pressed her lips into a tight line. "Perhaps a véirtio can give us an answer." She held up her index finger in a menacing fashion.

Emile bristled at the mention of Amora using a truthsayer charm on him. Makaela doubted the girl would be able to perform it properly, as it took extreme finesse and concentration, but it apparently was enough to frighten Emile.

"Fine," Emile said. "I'll be honest with you both. I do not always agree with everything Thorian does and says. But he is my lord and I must follow his orders. But this," he gestured around himself, "this is madness. We have entered this peaceful city, slaughtered innocent magicians just to acquire what? A gauntlet?"

Amora seethed at the man. Makaela noticed her hand slide behind her back. "I always pegged you for a traitor."

"I am no traitor!"

Makaela watched the two of them with curiosity and worry brimming in her face. The air surrounding the pair was electric—and not the good kind. She felt as if she'd be electrocuted if she got too close.

She was poised to shift at any given moment to break up a fight. She desperately hoped it wouldn't come to that, though. She feared if she shifted now, she'd end up killing both of them. And no one wanted that.

"I am no traitor," Emile repeated, a bit calmer this time. "I wholeheartedly believe in Thorian's mission. I want our kind to be rulers again just as much as he does. But I can't help but think we're doing this the wrong way. You know the things he makes us do. The things I've had to do." He ran a hand across his head before dropping it at his side. "We judge the hunters for killing our kind, but we've been killing other magicians for years. All by his orders!"

Makaela frowned. Emile's point resonated throughout her entire body like a shockwave. Thorian had essentially wiped out her entire house of magic just to get to her. He'd given the order to have dozens of Aegeon magicians killed that night. How many more would die before he got what he wanted? Would he even have anyone to rule over by the time he was finished?

Amora waved Emile's claims away. "We do what is necessary. If that means killing our own kind to save others, then so be it. What we are doing is right and it is best for us all as magicians."

She spoke with so much conviction that her face had reddened. Makaela thought she heard her voice waver a bit, though, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. But it was gone as soon as it came. Makaela wondered if she had imagined it.

"If you do not agree," Amora clenched her hand into a fist, "then you must be dealt with."

Emile squinted at her. "Is that a threat, Amora?"

"It wasn't a compliment, Emile."

The two of them stared each other down, their glares sharp enough to split an atom. They were an explosion of violence waiting to happen.

Makaela swiftly stepped in between them. She glanced at the both of them, her expression stern.  "Enough of this. We didn't come here to kill each other."

Emile nodded, dropping his glare. Amora did the same, albeit reluctantly.

"I would never dream of betraying your father," Emile said. "I will serve him until my dying breath. I just need to know my loyalties have been pledged to the right man."

"They are," Amora replied. "You'll see. They all will see."

Makaela hoped the girl was right. For all of their sakes.

The three of them stood in the corridor listening to the wind howl outside. They were just waiting for something to happen.

And they got their wish.

A pair of footsteps rushed towards them for a hall to their right. The three Shades faced the hallway.

Makaela instantly shifted, her fangs and claws appearing within seconds. Snarling, she flashed her fangs at the two men running at them. They were hidden in the shadows of the archway, their faces obscured.

The tallest man emerged from the darkness first. Makaela sucked in a breath after seeing his face. A thick, orange beard covered the bottom half while forest green irises stared back at her from the top. His flannel shirt—decorated with symbols representing House Brynjir—was ripped in several places. Veins bulged in his thick neck.

Ajax.

The other man, blond with a neatly trimmed goatee, followed behind the battlemage. He wore a blue tunic and white pants. A silver trident was gripped tightly in his hands. 

She sneered at him. Sirus.

She spotted the silver gauntlet wrapped around his forearm. Its sapphire gem glowed with light from the sea. Ajax wielded his massive battle axe.

Part of her wanted no parts in the battle that was to come. Unfortunately, that piece of her was overshadowed by the part that wanted to rip the boy's esophagus from his neck.

He had once been her friend. But she had seen the light while he was still in the darkness. Ajax and the others were fighting a losing battle. It was her job to murder them all. They were enemies, threats to Thorian's vision for the world.

As she prepared to charge at the boy, memories of Hodvekt and her short stay in the Brynjir headquarters entered her mind. She faltered after seeing Ajax's huge smile. Her heart ached when she saw Achilles—his late father.

Her inner Nightling tried its hardest to force the memories away but Makaela held onto them for dear life. Those two pieces of her soul went to war with each other, battling for dominance.

A loud whine pierced her ears, causing her to clamp her ears over them and scream in agony. She sank to her knees, conflicting thoughts and emotions ripping through her brain like gunfire.

"Makaela?" she heard Ajax call out to her. "Makaela, is that you?!"

"Stay away from her!" Amora yelled.

Even though her fractured vision, she could see them shooting spells at each other. She remained on the ground cradling her head. A series of whimpers left her lips as she struggled to hold herself together.

I can't kill them. I can't.

The other part of her insisted that she must.

She screamed again, pressing her hands harder against the side of her head so hard it hurt. But the voice in her head only grew louder. And louder. And louder. Soon, it was the only thing she could hear.

It was at that moment, she knew it wouldn't go away. It couldn't.

It was a part of her.

It was her.

Looking around the room with her teary eyes, she saw Emile and Sirus expertly weaving around each other with their vayrirs in hand. Emile parried quick strikes from Sirus' trident with his black sword. He was on the defensive, biding his time until it was time to attack.

Near the hallway from which Ajax and Sirus had come from, the former was pelting Amora's shield charm with stunning spells. Amora retaliated with a segmentis spell. A gash opened on the side of his head.

Howling in pain, he pressed a large hand to the cut and stumbled backward. Blood was leaking from his nose.

Makaela watched as the girl sprinted at the bearded magician, her dagger poised high above her head. She swiped at his face, nearly catching his cheek.

The scent of Ajax's blood overwhelmed her.

I...must...feed.

She tried to fight the temptation, but it was too much for her. Sweat trickled down her forehead as she attempted to hold onto the little bit of control she had left. But the sight and smell of Ajax's blood pouring from the gash in his face was testing her limits.

She closed her eyes, trying to distract herself.

"Ajax, go to the others! Get them to the beach!" she heard Sirus yell.

"But what about—"

"Go!"

Her eyes snapped open and she saw Ajax running down the hallway he came from. Amora had been flung into a wall, her body crumpled against a wall. Emile and Sirus were still dueling, though, the water elemental seemed to have the upper hand over the Shade.

Sirus jabbed at Emile with his trident, tearing a hole through the Shade's robes. As he pulled back the weapon and prepared to strike again, an explosion of shadows went off in between the two men.

Makaela blanched.

A pale hand gripped Sirus' forearm, stopping the attack. Sirus stared up at the newcomer, horror etched into his soft features.

Thorian, clad in his black robes and silver jackal mask, glared down at the man. Emile moved backward and caught his breath.

"It seems I am late to the occasion."

Sirus tried wrenching his arm away from the man's hold, but he failed. Makaela could see the fear beginning to consume him.

"No matter," Thorian added.

Makaela paled as she watched him with wide eyes. 

"It's about time I ended this siege."