Elara's POV
The knife pressed against my throat felt like ice.
"Again," Commander Vale said, her voice flat as winter stone.
I twisted left, ducked right, slammed my elbow into her ribs—or where her ribs would be if she were actually trying to kill me. She wasn't. This was just another test. Another chance to prove I was ready.
The blade disappeared. Vale stepped back, nodding once. "Better. You might actually survive."
Might. After eighteen years of training, I still only might survive.
"They're ready for you," Vale said, gesturing toward the white doors at the end of the training hall. The doors that led to the Luminous Council's chamber. The doors I'd been waiting to walk through my entire life.
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my face calm. Spies don't show fear. Spies don't show anything at all.
I walked forward. Each step echoed in the empty hall. Behind those doors waited the five most powerful people in the Radiant Capital. Behind those doors waited my future.
Behind those doors waited my freedom.
The white doors swung open without me touching them. Magic. Everything here was magic and light and cold perfection. I'd lived in this facility since I was eight years old, and I'd never stopped feeling like an outsider. Like something dark that didn't belong in all this brightness.
The Council's chamber made my eyes hurt. Pure white marble floors. White columns. White walls that seemed to glow with their own light. And seated on white thrones at the far end—five figures in white robes with golden masks covering their faces.
I knew who they were. Everyone knew. High Chancellor Theron Vex sat in the center, his mask decorated with rays of golden sunlight. The others I'd never spoken to. Never been important enough to address directly.
Until now.
I dropped to one knee and bowed my head, just like I'd practiced a thousand times. "I am ready to serve."
"Elara Thorne." High Chancellor Theron's voice rolled through the chamber like thunder wrapped in silk. "You have completed twelve missions for the Luminous Council. Twelve successes. No failures."
My hands wanted to shake. I forced them still.
"You have earned what we promised you eighteen years ago," Theron continued. "Your freedom. Your citizenship. Your life."
This was it. Finally. After eighteen years of training, fighting, bleeding, killing for them—I would be free. I could leave this place. I could have a normal life, whatever that meant.
"But first," Theron said, and my stomach dropped, "you must complete one final mission."
Of course. There was always one more mission. One more test. One more chance to prove myself.
"Tell me," I said, keeping my voice steady.
Theron leaned forward. Even through his golden mask, I felt his eyes boring into me. "You will infiltrate the Dark Lord's castle. You will gain his trust. And you will kill him."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
The Dark Lord. Cassian Nyx. The monster who'd ruled the Shadowlands for fifteen years. The tyrant who'd killed my parents and destroyed my village when I was eight years old. The man responsible for thousands of deaths in the endless war between light and shadow.
They wanted me to kill him.
"You have six months," Theron said. "We've created a cover identity for you—Dr. Elara Ashton, a scholar specializing in ancient languages. The Dark Lord is seeking someone to catalog his library. He'll accept you."
Six months. Six months to get close to the most dangerous man alive and drive a knife into his heart.
Six months to avenge everyone I'd lost.
"If you succeed," Theron continued, his voice dropping lower, sweeter, "you will have your freedom. True freedom. A home in the capital. Money. A life. Everything we promised."
Everything I'd dreamed about during the long, cold nights in my training cell. Everything I'd fought for. Everything I'd killed for.
All I had to do was kill one more person.
The most evil person alive.
The man who'd murdered my family.
"I accept," I said. The words came out strong and clear.
"Excellent." Theron stood, and the other Council members stood with him. "You leave at dawn. Your handler, Mira Ashwood, will provide your documents and final briefing. Do not fail us, Elara Thorne. This is your last chance."
I stood, bowed again, and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Elara?" Theron's voice stopped me at the door. "We'll be watching. Always watching. Remember that."
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold chamber.
I walked out, my mind already spinning with plans. Six months. I could do this. I would do this. For my parents. For my village. For every person the Dark Lord had hurt.
The training hall was empty now. My footsteps echoed as I walked back toward my quarters. Almost there. Almost free.
"Elara!"
I turned to find Mira running toward me, her dark curls bouncing, her face bright with excitement. My best friend. My only friend, really. The only person in this cold place who'd ever treated me like I was human instead of a weapon.
She grabbed my hands. "Did they tell you? Did they give you the final mission?"
"The Dark Lord," I said. "They want me to kill the Dark Lord."
Mira's smile widened. "Perfect. You'll do it, El. I know you will. And then we'll both be free."
Both? "What do you mean?"
Her smile flickered. Just for a second. So fast I almost missed it.
"Nothing," she said, squeezing my hands. "I just mean I'll be so happy for you. That's all."
But something in her eyes looked wrong. Something that made my trained instincts scream that she was lying.
What wasn't she telling me?