No!I snapped. Stop telling me this. I wouldn’t let him go. I wouldn’t choose. I wouldn’t allow him to be the sacrifice Constantine demanded.
There had to be another way.
There had to be—
“This is pathetic,” Constantine said. “And it’s exactly why a female can never rule. You’re thinking with emotion and not practicality. Kolstov is the obvious sacrifice as the closest to death. But rather than choose the weak link, you’re making them all suffer. What a pitiful queen you would be.”
I growled. “You know nothing of the queen I will be.”
Because he underestimated the powers of the bonds, the strength of mating, the bolstering of the heart. This Midnight Fae Elder only thought in terms of practical recourse, making decisions about life and death on a whim.
No ounce of remorse.
No concern for others.
Just a need to be in charge, to lead by his own example, and never accept anyone outside his skewed view of superiority.
He was the reason abominations were shunned, the reason Lucifer had to reopen the gates to the Hell Fae Realm a thousand years ago, and why Zen had to craft the paradigm to protect the exiled Midnight Fae.
That wasn’t the mark of a worthy king, but a dictator who led the people by his own instincts alone. Never listening to his fellow fae for guidance or requesting their opinions. He merely told them what to do and expected them to bow.
He’d tricked the Quandary Bloods into his ascension, rewriting the power away from the Morte line to bolster his own, because he had a vision for his people.
A vision that cast out women.
Cast out those he believed were stronger.
Cast out those with the ability to stop him.
Then he’d forced the ascension onto me as some sort of trick of fate, to paint me as a monster to his people. When in fact he was the evildoer in this scenario, the villain who craved a worthy opponent.
And he chose me.
The Dark Source accepted me.
My mates claimed me.
“I won’t choose,” I said again, my voice stronger now. “They’re my mates. My heart. My soul. Without them, I’m not worthy enough to be queen. They’re my rocks, my foundation, my roots. I won’t destroy them. I won’t release them. I won’t sacrifice those who make me who I am because otherwise I’ll lose myself.”
“Then they’ll all die,” Constantine whispered, his words cruel. He kissed me with his power once more, the pulsing walls yanking on me with a vengeance, the Dark Source bellowing in agony at being forced to abuse the one it had chosen to ascend.
I screamed with it, my soul in tatters, my mates yelling inside my mind and heart to stop this madness, to embrace the choice.
They all told me to pick them, to sever them, to live, to survive.
But this world wouldn’t work without all four of them together.
My mates represented four branches of Midnight Fae kind, their bloodlines invaluable, their power insurmountable.
Yet I felt them all dwindling, their energy waning, their lights blinking in and out as the trial raged around me, Constantine demanding my sacrifice.
I couldn’t just forfeit or walk away.
He’d ensured that I either picked one mate… or I lost them all.
Either way, I’d lose my heart in my process.
Aflora!Kols called to me again. Please, sweetheart. Listen to me. I can’t let you do this. Pick me. Sacrifice me. I can’t live in a world where Shade and Zeph are gone. They’re dying, love. They’re… we’re all… I’m ready…. I swear to you that I’m ready, that I can do this. Just let me go, sweetheart. I’ll be with you always. You know that. I’ll be part of the source for—