The next day we go to war.

Mor, Feyre, and I all winnow along with the legions of Illyrian soldiers until we crest the hill we'll be on for the duration of the battle. "SHIELDS." Cassian bellows and every burst of red is him, every blue Azriel's as the army obeys his command. They land before the sweeping army from Hybern and I barely breathe as I spot the distinct helmets of my three friends at the front lines.

Hours pass as battle commences and our small group barely says anything as we stare at the bloodshed. Despite the chaos, the armies keep to their lines as they work together to slice through the enemy. I see Feyre realize it the same time that I do; we haven't learned how to fight like that. Side by side, allowing those to either side of us to help us, and for us to help them. We would have been a weakness to exploit, but it doesn't stop me from desperately wishing I was out there.

I take a step forward when Cassian charges a mounted commander, then force myself to hold firm as the two approach one another. He's beautiful. Every move is practiced, precise, a dance, as I hear Feyre call it behind me.

"For him, that's what battle is. A symphony." Something clangs in me at her word, the same as what I called the first screams of the Raven's in the library. Music. My eyes don't break away from Cassian as he dispatches three soldiers that dare step in his way easily. Feyre curses behind me as I behold the truth of the soldier that had been training us both. I want to learn that. I want to be able to bestow death that well, that gracefully, that artfully, and I don't care if I have to train every day to achieve it. The dance is over when Cassian's spear slides through the man's chest before he plunges his steel right after. Hybern begins to turn and I can feel the fear rising off them like heat from a fire.

"It's over." Mor murmurs and I'm grateful despite the death that follows. I'm afraid I would see much more death to keep those I care for safe.

Afterward, it's time to move the camp again, but this time I remain there to help tend the wounded. The others see to the rest of the camp and I shake my head at stories of Cassian. No doubt they'll go to the general's head even if the facts are true. Perhaps he deserves it after battles like we've had lately. Even with no Illyrian deaths, plenty are injured and that makes for another tireless night of bandages, holding down soldiers, and fetching whatever else the healers need. I'm surprised to find Nesta alongside Mor, Feyre, and I helping out, but I dare not comment on it. We need all the help we can gather.

That night, once the screaming has stopped, I barely realize where I'm going as I stumble into a tent. I collapse onto the bed before smelling that signature scent that has come to calm me. "I'm in your bed. Where are you?" I ask Azriel sleepily over the bond.

"Unfortunately, I'm leading teams of scouts. We have to know Hybern's next move."

"But it's so much warmer and cozier in this bed." I can't resist teasing and get a low groan for my efforts.

"If I had a choice, I would be there." He says and I can hear the annoyance in his voice that he can't be.

"I understand. Come when you can." There's a soft caress over the bond that chases me into well-deserved sleep.

Four days pass and I see nothing of my favorite shadowsinger. We talk every day, but even those conversations are brief as he focuses on his task. On the fifth day, I'm getting concerned because I haven't a word from Azriel all day. I'm about to burst and mention it to Rhysand in the middle of the war-tent when the male appears of his own accord panting like he'd just flown over the world.

"Hybern has marched past us up between Summer and Autumn heading for the Winter court border." Everyone is immediately at attention at his words as he continues. "I've already sent word to Kallias and Viviane, but none of us know why they're marching there." He reports and it's clear that everyone else doesn't have a clue either.

For hours, Rhys, Tarquin and everyone else argues over what's to be done. After looking Azriel over and finding no wounds, I do my best to listen. It seems like there are equal risks and rewards to both options that people have named. Move, and we may be enticed away to whatever agenda Hybern has planned. Stay, and their army can march on to wreak havoc on whoever they please. Neither is a good option. We all seem to be at a stalemate before Varian dismisses all but the Night Court, his sister, and Tarquin. Nice to see that at least one court is our ally and trusts us.

"We march north—and we stay." He proposes with eyes coasting over all of us. "Spin a glamour—a good one. So that if anyone walks by here, they see and hear and smell an army. Put whatever spells in place to repel them from actually coming up to it. But let Hybern's eyes report that we are still here. That we choose to stay here." He says and points a finger to the map that we're all gathered around.

"While we march north under a sight shield," Cassian murmurs with a hand sliding over his jaw. "It could work." He adds with a grin to Varian. "You ever get sick of all that sunshine, you can come play with us in Velaris." He says and Varian frowns even as something glimmers in his eye.

"You could make such a deception?" Tarquin asks Rhys and we all turn to him. He nods and winks at his mate who takes a breath.

"With assistance from my mate."

* * *

What happens next is a marvel.

I watch as Rhysand, Feyre, and Cresseida construct a glamour so complex that it looks like our ghosts walk the land around us. It's more than off-putting, but hopefully it will convince our enemy as much as it has spooked me. It takes them the whole day to finish, then we're forced to move out. The sun is lowering itself over the edge of the world when we arrive to behold Hybern's force and Rhys whips the glamour of us away.

Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I watch the battle from the edge and it doesn't take me long to realize this one is going to be different. The tired act of soldiers about to set up camp to rest is just that, an act. They knew that we were coming. Cassian commands the soldiers with an iron fist while Rhys and Tarquin fight with gleaming steel. Azriel remains a few dozen soldiers away from the group and is slowly turning into more shadows than male. Mor dances on her feet and I feel the same keening in my soul to join in. My shadows leak over my shoulders and dance on the ground like flickering flames with the desire to devour.

When the skies open up and rain begins to fall, it's only the thought of the females behind me keep me fixed to the spot. Mud mixes with blood as Hybern wields magic against our side and faebane finally makes an appearance. Arrows fall in clouds like the ones filling the sky and my heart jerks as Keir's darkbringers cave under an onslaught of Hybern. "Shit." Mor breathes and I don't have the heart to glance back at her. "Shit." Hybern soldiers swarm the broken seam and flood between both sides while my fingers clench together to the point of pain.

Cassian is yelling instructions this way and that as he dodges arrows and spears while shooting towards the break. He lands in the middle of the fray and my shadows are tugging on their leash. Rhysand's power slams into one of the sides to try and shove them back, but even his wealth of power is drained. "Re-form the lines. Re-form the damned lines!" Mor growls as she begins to pace, but my heart stops when Azriel throws himself into the fray towards Cassian who is now completely surrounded.

"Mother above," Nesta murmurs with dread building behind her voice. My eyes snap to Feyre and find the same look, but slightly muted.

"They can fix this." She whispers and my eyes go back to the battle. They can. But not alone. There are more soldiers coming. The flood mounting and building threatening to drown all of us. I take a deep breath before looking back at the three women behind me. I take them in and Mor's face contorts as her mouth opens before I've winnowed away.

Directly into battle.

I winnow in front of Cassian with steel already drawn and only have a moment to look over my shoulder to take in his shocked expression before I begin slicing through the soldiers around us. I'd been watching them all this time, watching my friends most of all, and I'm confident I can at least provide another body moving against the enemy.

"The hell are you doing?" Cassian yells at me through the din of battle.

"Helping!" I shout in return as our backs are nearly pressed together with incoming troops.

"Well, don't! Get back!" He thunders and I smirk as I cut down a row of soldiers so blood falls around us along with the rain.

"When you move back, so will I!" I counter and this time he just yells incoherently as we push onward. We separate slightly and with the greater amount of room, I use my shadows as whips to slice through the flesh of Hybern soldiers. There's a commander in the near distance and I grin as he sets his sights on me. He has no clue what he's doing. Yet, as he begins moving towards me, Cassian moves into his path. My mouth pulls down at the edges as I begin fighting my way towards him with my shadows keeping the soldiers from overrunning me. They're absolutely gleeful as they cut them down.

His siphons barely glimmer and I can see his arms give slightly when the man swings his sword down. Still, it's still a shock when the male tosses mud in Cassian's eyes, then slices up with his sword. The swipe hits it's mark and feels like it's ripping through me as well as I see him fall back into the mud with a splat! A cry rips out of my throat even as I see Azriel nearing him and that spring that had been winding in me curls up, then bursts along with me.

Shadows explode out from my body like smoke to engulf all those around me. No longer am I Kaira, Rhys's sister and advisor to the Night Court, I become the Shadow of Velaris. I'm nothing but shadows, a gaping maw with razor-sharp teeth, fear-incarnate, death. Bloodcurdling screams echo from each soul I come across before I devour them whole. My true body is so hidden in my expanse of shadows that none even come close to touching it before my shadows have shrouded them in terror.

It takes me seconds to cross the field and come to a stop beside Azriel and Cassian. His guts are hanging from his body as Azriel's hands do their best to hold them in place while blood gushes out of him. "You need to take him back to camp. Now." His voice is low, but edged with fear and panic. Cassian is grunting with the pain and I almost wish he'd pass out to spare him from it. There's no time to talk about it. I make a path through my shadows until I'm kneeling in the mud next to them as soldiers move in again. "Go." He entreats and I manage one last look at him before my hand takes the place of his, then we winnow.

We appear on the hill where I vanished from and I frantically look up for Feyre or Nesta. The eldest Archeron sister is there and looks pale as death when she sees me with Cassian. "Get a healer, now!" I yell at her and she blinks with eyes focused on the blood coating my hands as it continues to flow out of his body. "Now!" I shout again and she flinches, then runs into the camp. My eyes go to Cassian's even as they shutter. "Don't you dare give up on me now, Cassian. Don't you fucking dare." I snarl and his eyes open again to focus blearily on me.

"Never." He grinds out before Nesta thankfully returns with a healer trailing behind her.

"Alright, over here." She says and my teeth grit together. We won't be able to move him.

"Go there and I'll winnow. Now." I growl and the healer frowns at me, but goes. The minute Nesta turns to me with a nod to say she made it; I winnow. It's a stroke of luck that he lands directly on the bed, but his pained grunt tells me he doesn't share my opinion.

"A sedative. This will all be over when you wake up." She tells him as I sit on a stool beside his head with his hand in mine.

"I won't leave you for a moment. Not for a second." I promise and his hand tightens on mine before steadily getting looser and looser, then his eyes shut. Still, I keep my word. I don't move an inch as the healer works except to brush Cassian's gore and rain-soaked hair back from his face as I used to do for my siblings. Azriel and Mor eventually come in and take in the sight of the three of us before moving to the foot of his cot to watch. Rhysand is last, no doubt delayed by his duties as High Lord, and it's a relief to see them even if I can't feel much of anything right now.

"You're injured." Azriel murmurs and my hand on Cassian's tightens. I'd started to feel the sting in my side and my right arm, but neither are anything to worry about while Cassian is like this.

"Kaira—" Rhys starts before my eyes cut to him.

"If you try to move me from this tent, try to remove me from this spot, then one of us will die, Rhysand." My voice is low and cool, but the promise is real. His eyes burn into mine for a moment, but then he nods. I tense when Azriel moves, but it's only to rip off a few strips of fabric from the bed. He walks over and I allow him to tie the strips around my arm, then under my breasts for the wound on my ribs. Then he returns to his spot and we all continue to watch the healer.

The gash is deep and long, cutting from his navel to the bottom of his sternum. Pain flashes across Cassian's face even though he's unconscious and the fact has me squeezing his hand a little harder. In the silence, I gather that we won. Barely. Even though this feels far from a victory. Rhys remains at the door of the tent staring as the healer places Cassian's guts back inside him while dabbing away the blood.

Ironically, I'm the one now suffering from terror as I watch my friend struggle to hold onto life.

"Where is Feyre." I barely hear Rhys ask and Mor goes still as a stone.

"I left her here with Nesta. She should be here." She replies while Rhys' face slowly pales more than it already is.

"Where." He asks again.

"I...I don't know." She breathes before Rhysand turns on his heel to stomp out of the tent.

"I'm sure she's fine." I manage to whisper, trying to give her some comfort.

"Or she's not." She responds and I have nothing to say in return to that. Time passes and silence descends on the tent as we three stare at the healer as she works on Cassian. The pinching of his face isn't good, exactly, but it's soothing to see him move. It's slow going to say the least. The healer's hands begin to glow white and I shift in place as the skin begins to stitch itself back together. I'm so focused on her work and his wound that I don't even notice when Feyre comes in with Rhys just behind her until she speaks.

"How." She rasps and I don't have the energy to respond. All my energy is focused on Cassian.

"Where were you," Mor answers as the wound closes a little bit more.

"Is he—is he going to—"

"No." The healer answers her before she finishes the sentence. "He'll be sore for a few days though." The sides of the wound now touch and begin melding with her slow encouragement.

"How," Feyre asks again and this time Mor supplies her with an actual answer.

"He wouldn't wait for us. He kept charging—trying to reform the line. One of their commanders engaged him. He wouldn't turn away. By the time Az got there, he was down." She says flatly, her voice devoid of any and all emotion. "Where did you go?"

"If you're about to fight, take it outside. My patient doesn't need to hear this." The healer snaps, but no one in the tent makes any sign of movement.

"You are, as always, free to go wherever and whenever you wish. But what I think Mor is saying is...try to leave a note the next time." Rhys says softly and I marvel at his ability to be composed right now. Marvel and loathe it.

"I'm sorry," Feyre says at last, but only Rhys responds.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You decided to take things into your own hands, and got us valuable information in the process. But...we have been lucky." His voice drops to a slightly quieter tone. "Keeping a step ahead—keeping out of Hybern's claws. Even if today...today wasn't so fortunate on the battlefield. But the cynic in me wonders if our luck is about to expire. And I would rather it not end with you." He ends tenderly and I reach for Azriel and I's bond just to make sure he's still there. He hadn't closed himself off from me as we've promised, but his emotions are muted. Not intentionally so. More than likely it's a practice gained from many battles such as this one.

"I wonder if the Weaver forgives you now." Rhys muses aloud and I nearly snap at him to shut up. Humor is part of how he deals with things. He doesn't deserve my anger.

"I don't want to know."

"Then let's never find out."

Everyone stiffens slightly as the healer's hands stop glowing and Cassian's wound becomes fully sealed. His eyelids begin to shift and flutter, but minutes pass before they open and I release a long, relieved breath. He grunts with pain and the sound is one of the most beautiful things that I've ever heard.

"That's what you get for stepping in front of a sword." The healer chides with a frown at the general. "Rest tonight and tomorrow. I know better than to insist on a third day after that, but try not to leap in front of blades anytime soon." Cassian blinks at the information before the healer turns and bows to Feyre and Rhys, then leaves.

"Kaira." He breathes scratchily and my hand clutches his a little tighter.

"Right here, as promised, you absolute dumbass," I tell him and slide a hand over his hair again so he can feel me.

"You're alright?" He asks and I swear softly.

"I'm fine. If you weren't just nearly sliced into halves, I would beat you for being such an idiot." I tell him, but the threat loses a bit of its edge since I could cry at any moment with relief. He blinks as he continues waking up and looks me over.

"You're the idiot to march into battle like that." He counters with the corner of his lips lifting. My mouth opens to chastise him all over again, but Rhys beats me to the punch.

"That's something that I will talk with her about later, but she wouldn't have needed to go in if you listened." He says and Cassian's eyes slide to our High Lord.

"How bad." He grunts.

"How bad was your injury, or how badly did we have our asses kicked?" Rhys asks sharply and Cassian blinks again. "To answer the second question, we managed. Keir took heavy hits, but...we won. Barely. To answer the first..." Rhys bares his teeth at his brother and I note Mor and Azriel taking a step back. I remain still with my hands still on Cassian. "Don't you ever pull that kind of shit again." He commands and Cass actually tries to get up before he hisses at the pain and I shove him back down none too gently.

"Your guts were hanging out, you stupid prick. Kaira and Az held them in for you." Rhys bites and Cassian's releases my hand to look at the blood still staining it along with Azriel's at the foot of the cot. My eyes flick to his face and find cold rage there as I stand with one last brush of Cassian's hair before I shakily move to Az's side for support.

"I'm a soldier. It's part of the job." He says flatly and I'm glad I moved out of slapping distance.

"I gave you an order to wait," Rhys growls, "You ignored it."

"The line was breaking. Your order was bullshit." Cassian retorts and Rhys braces his hands on either side of the soldier's legs to snarl in his face.

"I am your High Lord. You don't get to disregard orders you don't like." Cassian actually sits up this time with a few swears.

"Don't you pull rank because you're pissed off—"

"You and your damned theatrics on the battlefield nearly got you killed." And even as Rhys spits the words into his face, I can hear the panic lingering on the edges of every one. "I'm not pissed. I'm furious."

"So you're allowed to be mad about our choices to protect you—and we're not allowed to be furious with you for your self-sacrificing bullshit?" The two males stare off and I begin to think that the males are better off left alone to sort things out.

"You could have died," Rhys says, voice raw.

"So could you." Cass returns and afterward the tent is silent for a beat.

"Even after Hybern...I can't stomach it." Rhys finishes quietly and the heartache in those few words breaks my own heart. Cassian leans forward and grasps his shoulder before we all slowly slip out to leave them to it.