Shadows Entwined (Shadows Descent #3)

1. Violet

1

VIOLET

“What?” Thorne yells over the violent noise assaulting our ears. “What did we forget?”

“The fucking Order of the Shadows Descent!” I screech as the feral wolves behind Nathaniel come into view, their teeth bared.

“Oh, fuck,” Flint snarls and moves in front of me.

“Violet!”

Frowning, I turn my head at the familiar voice that has been speaking to me in my head but is now out loud. My eyes widen as I see the statue of Morgana the Wise shimmering with magick that feels like it’s mine. Only, it’s not mine.

It’s hers.

“Fuck me,” I gasp as Caine growls at me.

“Violet! Focus!”

But there is no pulling my attention away from what is happening. The statue groans as it moves, opening up the chambers under the library. Misunderstanding, I start to move towards it, but then Morgan le Fay appears, stepping out of the statue dressed in a flowing white dress that looks grossly familiar. The growl that comes out of my mouth is from my very soul. I hiss as she comes closer.

“Thank you for releasing me,” she gasps as she takes in her surroundings. “Those bastards are going to pay!” Her vicious snarl is emphasised by her magick sparking to life all around her.

My magick responds, knowing its kin when it sees it.

“Caine!” she orders. “Are you ready to do what your Mistress demands?”

“Mistress?” he asks with a shocked look and then arches an eyebrow at me with a smirk. “Sure. I’ve got this.”

“Hurry!” I pant as the wolves are snapping and biting at the wards that Thorne and Flint are attempting to maintain with the help of Blackthorn and Aurelius. Gaida catches my eye and gives me a nod.

“The rest of you get underground,” Morgan orders.

I nod and take a step towards the gaping hole.

Morgan’s hand snaps out, and she grabs my arm. “Not you,” she says in exasperation.

“Oh,” I say, disappointed. I thought I’d got off lightly there for a moment.

“Go now!” Morgan cries as Blackthorn, Aurelius, and Gaida take a step back. “Go!”

They don’t hang around to ask questions. They know what’s coming, and chances of them being immune to Caine’s Ice Age are slim to none. The rest of the students will have to freeze, but I know in my soul that they will be okay once Caine defrosts the Academy again. Only those connected to him will be safe from being frozen. That means me and the guys.

With Blackthorn and Aurelius gone, the ward falters, and the wolves snap ferociously. Behind them, Nathaniel stands, hands behind his back, observing with a smile on his face. Another battalion joins him. This time, they appear to be feral vampires, blood dripping from their oversized fangs and claws.

“We need to hurry!”

A grating noise echoes through the library. I turn to see that the others are safe and that the statue is back in position, guarding the underground.

“Caine,” I say, yanking my arm out of Morgan’s grip. “Create the Ice Age over MistHallow and the forest. But not us. Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yeah.”

“And the other students will be okay afterwards?”

His gaze meets mine. “They will. I promise.”

“Then do it.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. With a feral grin, he slams the tip of his cane down on the ground.

The world explodes into white.

Caine’s magick crashes through the weakened wards, obliterating them in the wake of a solid sheet of ice.

A primal roar of fury tears from Nathaniel’s throat as ice crystals bloom across his skin. The wolves yelp and whine as they’re frozen mid-leap, their eyes wide with shock and fear. The vampires hesitate and try to run with their vampire speed, but Caine’s magick cannot be outrun.

The temperature plummets so rapidly that I can feel my breath crystallising in my lungs. Ice spreads across every surface, coating the bookshelves and floor in a thick layer. Outside, snow falls in a blinding blizzard.

Caine stands at the epicentre, his eyes glowing an eerie blue as he channels more power into his spell. The air around him shimmers with cold so intense it burns.

“Fuck,” I mutter as Thorne and Flint press close to me, trying to shield us from the worst of the cold. I shiver, feeling my bones ache, but as cold as I am, I’m still moving. Still breathing.

Outside the windows, I see the time-frozen forest transforming. The trees become glittering ice formations, their branches drooping under the weight. The snowstorm rapidly buries MistHallow Academy under a blanket of white.

The rumbling from below stops abruptly. The cracks in reality seal shut, frozen solid, unable to withstand the primal force of winter Caine has unleashed.

Morgan stands beside me, her wild power mingling with the cold. “It’s working,” she murmurs. “The veils are reforming.”

I nod, feeling it, too. The chaos that was threatening to overtake the world is being pushed back, contained once more behind walls of ice and ancient magick.

Caine stumbles, and then it’s done. The magick levels drop, and the library is filled with silence.

“Fuck, that was something,” I mutter.

He turns to me, panting slightly but none the worse for wear. “It’s what I do.”

“However this works, you have frozen the veils, and everything has stopped dead in its tracks.”

“Including them,” Flint gestures to Nathaniel and his army.

“How long will it last?” I ask.

Caine shrugs. “As long as you like. Unlike time, ice is my jam.”

I snort. “Yeah, no fucking kidding.” I breathe out and relax a fraction. This has given us a reprieve.

“What now?” I ask, turning to Morgan.

Her eyes meet mine, ancient and knowing. “Now, little flower, you bloom.”

“Don’t give me more cryptic crap. You are here for a reason. What is it? I think I deserve to know.”

“Before you answer that,” Thorne says, “And make no mistake that you will answer that, what the fuck is the deal with you coming out of the stone statue?”

We all turn to face Morgan, as that is a damn good question.

She narrows her eyes at Thorne. “The Order of the Shadows Descent entombed me in there.”

“Holy fuck,” I breathe. “Are you serious?”

She nods briskly. “It is why I’m so connected to this place. Why the forest is so alive here, and why you, little flower, are so powerful here.” She cups my face, and her cold touch makes me shiver inside. “My daughter. It’s good to finally see you.”

I blink at her. “Huh?”

She smiles sadly. “You are not just my heir, Violet. You are mine. My daughter.”

“I was born twenty-one years ago. How can I be yours?” I say the words, but somewhere deep down, I know they are true. It’s mind-boggling, but I don’t think she is making it up.

Morgan’s eyes shimmer with ancient power as she regards me. “Time is not always linear, especially for those of us with magick in our blood. I bore you centuries ago, but hid you away, knowing the time wasn’t right. I placed you where you would be found and raised in this era.”

“A Changeling of sorts,” Thorne mutters.

“What?” I snap. I’ve heard that word, and none of the connotations are good.

“Of sorts,” Morgan says.

“Are you saying my parents aren’t my parents?”

She shakes her head but smiles. “They are the parents who loved and raised you, but I am your mother and your father...”

“Please, for the love of all things unholy, don’t say it’s him,” I spit out, glaring at Nathaniel.

Morgan frowns with a look of distaste, which reassures me she finds him as vile as I do. “Eww,” she mutters. “No. Not him. A man I loved long ago.”

“He is dead?” I ask bluntly because why pussy-foot about at this point? Shit went sideways a while ago. Emotion went with it. Now it’s time for facts.

Morgan’s eyes darken with ancient sorrow. “He is... beyond. Lost to a realm even I cannot reach.”

I nod, processing this information as best I can. She makes it sound like he is alive, but I can’t process this just yet. We need to shove it under the mental mat for later in the day, or year or decade, even. That would be good. “Okay, so I’m your daughter, born centuries ago, hidden away until now. Where was I hidden? And how did my parents find me?”

“You were encapsulated in a time cube, a place where things remain constant. Much like this, but less ice,” she gestures around with a smile. “The magick knew when the time was right and replaced your parents’ dead child with you.”

All the blood rushes from my head to my feet. “What?” I croak. “What?”

She gives me that sad smile again. “As your friend said, you are a Changeling of sorts. But in reverse. Your parents’ infant died at birth before they even saw her. You were given to them as their own.”

“Holy shit,” I mutter, and tears prick my eyes. “They didn’t even know? They just thought I was theirs? They didn’t choose me?”

“Fate chose them,” Morgan states.

“Okay, we need to stop this conversation for a minute. This is a lot,” Flint says, moving closer and wrapping his arms around me.

“No, it’s okay,” I say, shaking my head. “I’d rather know and have the truth. I can handle it.” I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “Keep going.”

Morgan’s eyes grow distant as if looking into the past. “The Order of the Shadows Descent was rising to power. They sought to control my magick, to bind it, but really, we all knew they wanted to use it for their own ends. I knew they would find me, and you. You were too powerful, even as an unborn. I couldn’t let them get their hands on you.”

“So, you gave birth to me and hid me away,” I say softly. “To protect me.”

She nods. “To protect you and our magick. It broke my heart, but I had to.”

“How soon after did they find you?”

“Minutes. I had no time to recover from the birth before they found me and...” She glares at the statue. “... turned me to stone.”

I feel a pang of sorrow for her. That must’ve been awful. “How long ago?” I ask quietly.

“Fifteen hundred years ago.”

I nod slowly, taking in the enormity of that. “I’m fifteen hundred years old.”

“Sort of,” Morgan says with a chuckle. “You were born then, yes, but you are, in fact, twenty-one.”

“Okay, these sort ofs are sort of pissing me off.”

“I understand. But enough about this for now. The veils between worlds are weakening. The Old Ones stir, and the Order of the Shadows Descent grows stronger than ever with Nathaniel at the helm.”

I glance at the frozen form of Nathaniel, his face twisted in fury. “He wants to bring back the Old Ones, to become one.”

Morgan’s face hardens. “It would mean the end of the world as we know it. Chaos would reign. The veils between realms would shatter completely.” Her gaze sweeps across the frozen library, taking in Nathaniel and his army trapped in ice, the sealed cracks in reality. “Everything has changed. You need to face what’s coming.”

“And what exactly is coming?” Thorne asks, his voice sharp.

“The Convergence,” Morgan replies. “A time when all realms align, when the veils between worlds grow thin. It happens once every fifteen hundred years, and it’s approaching rapidly.”

“Well, that’s not a coincidence,” I say dryly. “Let me guess. This Convergence is why everything’s gone to shit lately?”

Morgan nods. “The supernatural world is reacting to its approach. Old magicks are awakening, ancient beings stir, and some, like Nathaniel, seek to use the chaos to their advantage. Your presence here, Violet, and your growing power weakened my prison enough for me to reach out to you. And now, with the veils weakening further, I was able to break free entirely.”

“So, what do we do now? How do we stop this Convergence?”

“We don’t stop it,” Morgan says firmly. “We can’t. It’s a natural cosmic event. But we can prepare for it, channel its power to strengthen the veils between worlds rather than destroy them.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Flint asks, his arm still around me protectively.

Morgan’s gaze fixes on me. “We continue what I started.”