Hesitantly, I take it to study, astonished Amell would hand over a weapon to be used against his queen. It can’t kill her, but if he’s telling the truth, it could weaken her enough to give us the advantage we need.
My gaze moves back to Zora, who looks shaken. I forget about the lariat, handing it to Carrick without a backward glance as I move to my sister. “Are you okay? Did Amell do something to upset you?”
Zora smiles. It’s forced and without an ounce of truth in it. She even attempts a joke. “You mean outside of showing up and trying to talk me into going back to the Underworld?”
“You never have to go back there,” I say adamantly.
“I know,” she replies softly, gaze dropping to the floor as she takes a breath. When she looks back to me, she seems more in control. “It’s fine. It was just awkward, and there were mixed feelings.”
“Mixed feelings about what?” Maddox asks, a hint of ice in his tone. He may not know the details about Zora and Amell having been intimate, but I’m thinking he’s figuring it out now.
Of course, Zora doesn’t understand things like jealousy, so her expression turns confused.
I don’t have time for a lover’s quarrel that might erupt—although it might not because, like Zora, Maddox has insisted this is just casual—so I redirect the conversation.
Turning back to Carrick, I nod at the lariat he holds. “He wants us to try to contain her versus kill her. Maybe he’s pushing that because he’s feeling guilty for providing us information. He didn’t tell us much we didn’t already know, but, to him, that’s a betrayal to his queen and if Amell is anything, he’s loyal to her.”
“We can’t trust what he says,” Carrick says gravely.
“No, you can’t,” Zora agrees bitterly. And I know she’s referring to the fact he lied to her about her heritage, making her believe she was an orphan instead of someone who had a family who deeply loved her.
“We’ll bring the lariat and use it to help dampen her powers,” Carrick muses. “But the end goal is still the same. We destroy Kymaris in our effort to stop the prophecy.”
“Agreed,” I reply.
“Agreed,” Zora adds. More than anyone in this room, Zora has the most to hate Kymaris for. If she wants the queen dead, I’m going to happily do everything in my power to ensure it’s done.
CHAPTER 25
Finley
The morning of October 7th dawns strangely bright and sunny for the prospect of doom in the coming hours. Carrick and I stay in bed, ignoring the world and all the problems waiting outside our door. Tonight at midnight, life changes. It’s possibly our last day together, and not even a full day at that since we’ll be starting preparations for our battle tonight.
Carrick wakes me up with a slow kiss that feels like the sunrise and all the hope and freshness one normally brings. It turns deep and possessive, and I’d let it continue for eternity but we must stop because it’s not just about us. I curl into his body, skin against skin, pressing my nose into his chest and inhaling deeply. He smells of comfort and strength, devotion and eternity. When I’m reincarnated, I wonder if I will inherently miss this, since I know what it feels like now?
Carrick’s hand idly strokes my shoulder, his breathing steady and even. He’s abnormally quiet, and I know his heart is heavy with what might happen to me in mere hours.
“If I die,” I murmur into the quiet between us.
Carrick sighs, but doesn’t try to stop me. We talk about death and our future almost every day. It’s not taboo, but I know I’m interrupting his simple pleasure of laying here with me.
“If I die,” I repeat again, pressing my cheek to his chest. “Promise me you’ll keep battling on. You won’t give up.”
“You know I won’t.” I actually hear the words in his chest where they sound low and gravelly, but they’re coming directly from the heart. “And I’ll protect Zora, Rainey, and Myles. I’ll take them to another realm if I have to.”
“And you’ll find me again,” I say, a simple validation that I believe in our destiny together.
“I will most certainly find you again,” he agrees, his arm tightening around me.
My hand comes up, my fingers gliding over his sternum and down his stomach. A lazy stroke—the pleasure of touching him a gift. Profound sadness wells within me, that life as Carrick and I know it will change very soon. These good days are done.
I’m sad for the pain Carrick will feel when I die, whether it’s in trying to stop the prophecy from coming true or in the ensuing days, months, or, if we’re lucky, years that Rune might choose to give us.
There’s no sadness for me, though. I accepted I have many potential fates coming my way, all of which end in death.