My knees lock up mid-stride as a splitting sensation tears through my skull. It rips at the bond, and I clutch my head as if to hold us together. The pressure builds, and I scream as the space once filled with her warmth is torn from my mind. All that’s left when the pain subsides is an unending void, and I collapse under its weight.
Reagan’s hands wrap around my arms, holding me in place, but I barely feel them.
Color fades from the world until only shades of gray and the red of the blood pooling beneath Grace remain. Her vibrance no longer exists in my mind, telling me she’s near or if she’s alive or dead.
The complete absence of her is deafening.
As her blood spills down the porch stairs, the air behind the house shivers and flakes away, floating on the breeze like ash from a fire. The ground groans beneath us as the first drop of blood hits the dirt. And the once-wooded area behind her house fills with crumbling stone buildings and towers.
A pulse surges from the city’s center, bringing the once-stagnant air of the human realm alive with energy—with magic. The familiar tingling sensation washes over my skin, raising goose bumps on my arms.
As magic returns to Esmarae, the trees sway on the invisible current, transforming.
The leaves become greener, more alive. The grass becomes fuller. It’s as if the world lets out a joyous sigh at magic’s return.
The borders surrounding our cities are down for the first time in a thousand years, and the small part of my mind that still functions wonders if this is the beginning or end of everything as we know it. Humans will once again know fae exist, that we never left, and that the once-lost capital of the continent still stands.
The buildings of Anaeris are woven amongst the trees, some even built around the trees themselves. And running through the middle of the forest is an ancient cobblestone road that leads to the massive decaying castle. The banners of House Anaeris that once flew may be long gone, but the storied white marble walls of the castle remain.
I watch with numb horror as Niethal kneels next to Grace’s motionless body and caresses her cheek fondly. Without looking away from her, he lifts a hand, and a male joins them on the porch. The male’s hands hover over her heart as he chants, and a faint white light shines on the wound.
Hope flutters in my chest.
Maybe it’s not too late. Perhapsthere’s a chance the healer can save her. But my eyes linger on the ever-growing puddle surrounding her… there’s so much blood.
Niethal leaves the healer and Grace on the porch and strides across the field to join the kings. I lunge as he approaches, but he easily dodges and beams at me, wagging his finger. “There will be none of that, Isiah. Grace knew what she was doing. She made a choice: your life for possibly her own. Now, I promised her I would let you live, and I intend to keep my word.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder toward the porch and stares at Grace for a long moment. Then as if remembering himself, he shakes his head and brushes a hand through his hair. “But now that the borders are gone, there will be no more hiding, even for those cities unwilling to join us. So, do you stand with us as a king or fall with your crown? I may have promised to allow you to live, but you will not rule without agreeing to my terms. The choice is yours.” He laughs as he walks away from me. “It would seem Grace taught me mercy after all.”
He and the kings chatter about what lies ahead, but their words mean nothing to me. I only stare at Grace, willing her to live, pushing whatever magic I can through where the bond used to be. But it’s as if the magic falls into the endless void, with no sign she receives any of it.
The muscles in my arms quiver, longing to strike Niethal.
Damn him and the other kings.
I’d sacrifice every one of them if it brought her back.
Black shadows drip from my fingers and curl around the irons, crackling on contact. I rip open the pit in my soul where the pain of the last few days has festered. My mother’s death and how she was left on the floor to cool in her blood. My father, whose last grimace of fear will haunt the rest of my days, and now Grace, the only good thing to come out of my hundred and four years of life. She was a light in the darkest of my nights, and now she isgone.
Rage smolders inside me, and I allow it to burn me to ash.
Magic flows wildly from me, and I grin, hearing the satisfying crack of the iron cuffs. The kings take notice, and Niethal’s eyes flare as darkness explodes from me, casting everyone into a complete and starless night.
A chorus of baying howls sounds inside my mind—no, not from my mind, but the field surrounding me. The scars on my shoulder throb as the claws and teeth of the monsters once only in my mind tear from their restraints.
The Ossano serve the blood of Anaeris and her darkness, and I am that and more.They heeded my call and somehow traveled through my shadows. Now that the blood magic surrounding Anaeris has fallen, they are free to return home, but only after they take vengeance on those who harmed Grace.
Niethal and the other kings shout orders and curse as the Ossano attack. Shouts come from every direction where guards fight back. And soft, wet, crunching noises sound from where the creatures have slaughtered.
A flash of Reagan’s light whip draws my attention to where he and Niethal fight back to back. The whip cracks the side of one beast, and a pained yip sounds across the yard. Illuminated by the brief flash of light, I watch as Niethal slices the neck of another Ossano, severing its head in one swing. Black blood sprays and coats the front of Niethal’s tunic and face, and the bastard smiles.
Gripping my sword, I stalk toward him. My only desire is to slide my blade into his heart and have his blood coat the steel.
I sidestep an Ossano fighting one of King Briar’s guards, briefly making eye contact with the beast, seeing intelligence there. The beast lunges and bites the male’s arm with a sickening crunch, and he shrieks. I grin and keep moving.
Once I reach them, Reagan steps in front of me, his gaze flashing to my hand. “Don’t do this. Just wait.”
Wait? There is nothing left to wait for. The only thing holding me together is the singular purpose of killing Niethal.
I raise my hand and call the nearest Ossano to me. No need to say anything out loud because they’re in my mind.