It would be a lie to say I wasn't a bit relieved when my boots hit solid land once more, the heat in my body returning to make my hands glow dully. The power is always there, surging, begging. I swallow hard and push it at bay, watching as Phoebe's appearance melted away to what I'd grown accustomed to over the last year. Returning to the edge of the lake had been slower than departing from it, and a gnawing part of me worries that war had already struck.

Lendon waited for us, perched on a rock with his ankles crossed, silver magick flowing through his fingers in that casual manner he liked to play. "Took you long enough," he teased, as though his eyes weren't hardened. Seeing how this affected him made the pang of guilt surge through me once more. Was it so selfish of me to ask all of their help in defeating Nova? She is just one lone person...but somehow more powerful than Parallax had been.

"You travel to the bottom of the ocean, then critique me." I replied with a raised eyebrow, he raised his palms in defeat and summoned a portal for us. "How did the others do?"

"They have yet to return," Lendon replied, voice grave, before we stepped into the Mortis Atrium. It was a dark and cool change, my breath catching at the drastic change of scenery, and of what was before me. Some people were gathered, Beckett stood before his army–which felt small in comparison to the thousands of unkillable SkinWalkers Nova held at her disposal. We stood outside Beckett's court, the looming tower, and I blinked repeatedly as I walked to his side to adjust my eyes. From the neon lights of the Oceanum Atrium, to the bright shades of the Lacus Atrium, now to the macabre darkness of the Mortis Atrium–my eyes were beginning to ache.

Men and women, vampires, fae, wolves, shifters, all alike–bore black fighting leathers as they looked ahead to Beckett. He debriefed them on what we were to do, the challenge we faced, and they listened intently. They would, he was their King–Parallax's son, the deadliest weapon. None of them knew, of course, that he was not violent. Not when he wore this dangerous mask of pure power, his eyes shining with vigor.

The people of his court were darkness as well, evil, cunning, but they would abide by their King's will–if only in fear of his power being unleashed on them. They live under the precedent that he keeps it at bay, if only just barely, and fear what would happen if they stepped out of place. Beckett had allowed them to stay unholy, if only to each other, and left the humans out of it. Looking at them, sharp canines bared, claws sharp, the fae bearing lethal weapons; I could only hope they'd turn that malice to the enemy.

I reached my love's side, his voice carrying like the sound of looming thunder over his army. Beckett's dark hair was stark against the paleness of his skin, with black leathers tight against his skin, his body strapped with his fighting knives. While we were gone, it seems, he made a new plan. He told them of the invincible monsters, of the powerful sorceress who held an innocent captive. I noticed he did not mention her name, that it was his sister being held, and her occupation as a Defender.

Standing on the boulder, overlooking his army, I let some of my newfound fire rise slightly, letting it scorch my skin and eyes. I knew my eyes glowed a deep red right now, showing them my inner burning, rather the holy brightness of the stars they'd been raised to fear. Trying to force the mask of darkness, trying to copy Beckett's cold demeanor, I looked over them all with a slight downturn of my lips.

Beckett's eyes were that icy rage I'd fallen in love with, the sight of them bringing a shiver to my spine. As much as I'd grown to distaste Blair, I could acknowledge her intensity as well. She glared over the army, nodding at Beckett's command, her purple hair standing on edge and giving the show of rage.

Vampires, real vamps, not the one's Parallax had conducted, beat on their chests and cried out in determination as Beckett raised a fist to the air. Werewolves howled, their skin shifting to fur as they shifted into their large beastly forms. The fae mounted their horses, large black beasts that raised their front legs and snorted as their reigns were pulled on.

Over the hollers of preparation, ready to fight and die for their king, I whispered to Beckett from the corner of my mouth. "The others are not here yet?" He shook his head slightly. "Then we are not ready–Varys said his troops would be here soon but–"

Beckett turned to me, his eyes cold with his anger. "I do not wish to stand here idly when she has Ember still." He hissed at me, his voice rising with what I presumed to be fear.

"I know, but the plan was to gather as one large group. I fear if it is just your army we won't even make it to the volcano where she keeps Ember." My voice hitched with my nervousness, but it was Phoebe behind me–her voice sharp like the jagged rocks of the sea, who made genuine terror slide into my body.

"We go, now. Die or not, we are getting her." I turned accusing eyes to the mermaid, the siren, she was supposed to agree with me–

"The warlocks aren't even here yet!" Lendon argued, his eyes wide as saucers as he realized what Beckett was about to do.

"Beck, do not-" I was not able to finish my plea.

"For the Mortis Atrium!" Beckett hollered, putting on the front it was for his court's protection, riling his army–and mounted his horse. Upon the steed my love looked more powerful than I'd ever seen him, his fingers crackled with a sage power, sparking with energy, his voice the fierceness of one hundred men as he ordered them to charge. Above us, in the dark sky, green lighting flashed along with Beckett's rage. Was he more powerful than I had been led to believe this last year? I blinked, then, without a parting glance my way, Beckett ordered his horse to begin it's run.

Blair hollered her approval, whipping at the reins so her black stead began the pounding run towards their neighboring court. The army followed, bellowing their challenge, running in vamp speed, or making their horses follow, or fully shifting into wolves.

The intense power made me gasp, my eyes water, as I looked back at Phoebe in Lendon. The warlock's own eyes watered, his mouth slightly agape.

"It's going to be a bloodbath." He murmured as the army's pounding charge ceased from our ears. Beckett, he hadn't listened...he would die out there. I couldn't let him go there without me, I couldn't let him die–

"I'm going." I told my friends, "I won't let him die out there." He was being rash, stupid and rash and irresponsible–but he was acting out of fear and love and I couldn't let him go alone.

"Astra, please-" Lendon begged, but I shook my head as the army became specks in the distance–traveling at superhuman speed.

"I won't let him die alone, Lendon." I wailed, my voice horse. "Please, get me over there–and then get the warlocks. We will need all the help we can get."

"I'm going with you," Phoebe told me, her eyes wild. I didn't even argue, seeing no point. We didn't have time, they were charging to a volcano full of unkillable creatures, creatures only I could kill.

Lendon nodded, grabbing the sleeve of my jacket for a long moment. "Please don't die, Astra. I've really grown to like you." I almost smiled, tears stinging in my throat, but a portal appeared and a determined Phoebe grabbed me and pulled me through it.

The portal brought us to a small mountain side, looking at a wide open space of dead earth–where Beckett and his army were coming into contact with thousands of SkinWalkers. So many that I couldn't count, their thin pale bodies moving in disjointed waves down the mountain side, bright in comparison to the dark brown of the ground. I could hear their hungry screeches from here, even this far, despite not even being able to make out the faces of those fighting.

At impact my breath left my lungs, a tear falling down my cool cheek. Beckett had been at the front of the line, I'm sure about it. With a cry I let my yearning power build, let it grow and churn as it had asked so many times to do. I felt it reach a point of powerful tension, burning at my shoulder blades, with another battle cry I released my phoenix. My power soared up from my shoulder blades, my boots leaving the ground from the intensity of the wave, I opened my arms broadly and my bird took flight–it shrieked as it built in a cluster of flames.

My phoenix took off down the side of the sloping hill, scorching any living grass in its wake, it banked as it reached the cluster of fighting Shadow Creatures–the flames missing our people and searing the Walkers in its path. Another shriek released from my bird, as the cries of the dying Walkers bellowed from beneath it. The flames slowly died down until my bird was no more, but over the field I could hear the calls of glee as they made it through the first hoard. The relief only lasted a lingering second, one where Phoebe patted my arm with a grin on her lips, until we saw another hoard begin its descent down the mountainside.

"We have to get over there," Phoebe told me, mirroring what I'd just been thinking. My hands were still flames when I turned to look at her. I was able to conduct my power without becoming the phoenix myself, but Phoebe–

"We? Phoebe, you don't have to become this-" Phoebe smiled at me sweetly, no longer the girl who'd been forced to feed me Love Tonics. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she swallowed them, and smiled even broader.

"They're getting slaughtered," she said. It's true, their cries rang true as the second hoard leaped on them. Beckett...I had to focus all my nerve on not running to him now. "Tell Ember I loved her." I opened my mouth to object, but my skin began to sizzle with the natural instinct to fight, as Phoebe transformed into the siren before my very eyes.