Page 96 of Queen of Serpents and Shadows

He laughed. “You think you know him better? I created him. Everyone always thought the minotaur was my monster, but my greatest monster was my son.”

I glared at him, letting all the hate I felt for him seep into me, filling me like a dark creature, hungry for blood. Gritting my teeth, I worked to hold the shadows back, to let them build without the king knowing what I was doing. I wished I could make him explode the way I’d done with the vampire back in Konos but I couldn’t even sense the faintest thread of my own magic.

“Lochlan,” the king bellowed.

A soldier rushed into the tent, his head bowed so low I wasn’t sure if he even saw that the king had a woman pinned to the ground.

I started to slowly move my fingers, working at the little pouch to access the contents.

“Send a messenger to the palace. Tell them that if Ryvin wants his mate back, he’ll surrender to me before the sun rises.”

The round object was cool to the touch as I fished it from the bag. I tightened my fingers around it, careful not to let it roll away.

“Yes, your highness,” Lochlan called with another bow. He quickly retreated.

The king turned his attention back to me. “I should be thanking you right now. You’re going to get me everything I ever wanted.”

“I am nobody’s pawn,” I hissed. Fury swirled, makingmy vision narrow to the man in front of me. I was done being used by the men around me while they strove for power they didn’t deserve. It was time to do things on my terms.

With a scream, I let the shadows explode, sending all the anger and frustration and hate and fury toward the Fae King.

He was thrown from me, letting out a surprised scream as the shadows sent him across the tent. I reached out, ordering the shadows to catch him, preventing him from knocking the tent over.

Guards burst through the door and I shoved them away with more shadows, letting the darkness wrap them in cocoons of death.

The king was stammering, struggling to get words out. “H-How?” His eyes were wide as he took me in. And this time, he wasn’t looking at me like a prize. Like someone below him. Now he was looking at me with fear in his expression.

I approached slowly, then turned to launch more shadows at two more soldiers. They were smothered by the power I wielded, their bodies vanishing in the embrace of darkness.

“It’s impossible. Ryvin would never give up his power,” the king said.

“He didn’t have to.” I hardly recognized the snarl in my voice. “He’s not you. He’s not the monster you think he is.”

“You’re wrong. You can’t change him.” The king’s nostrils flared. “You can’t kill me with his magic. It won’twork. He tried once when he was young. Did he tell you that? He tried to kill his own father. Succeeded in killing yours. That’s the man you defend?”

I stopped in front of the king, staring at the man who’d taken so much from my people and still wasn’t satisfied. I pinched the little ball between my forefinger and thumb. Without hesitation, I shoved it into his mouth, then sealed his lips with shadows.

I wasn’t sure what the object was or why I knew I was supposed to shove it into his mouth, but it was instantly clear I’d made the right choice.

I stepped back, my eyes widening, unable to hide my disbelief as gray streaks spread from the king’s mouth, expanding like spiderwebs across his cheeks and down his neck.

Startled, I lost control of the shadows and the king fell to the ground. He landed on his knees and clutched at his throat. Gasping and choking, he struggled for breath even though the shadows no longer bound him.

His eyes widened in terror and he dropped his arms, his fingers digging into the dirt as he clawed toward me. The streaks were spreading down his arms and across his hands. He stilled, one arm outstretched, reaching forward as if trying to grab something. He looked up, his eyes locking on mine showing nothing but fear. His whole body stiffened and the streaks of gray seemed to continue to grow, expanding until his whole body was the color of stone.

No, not the color of stone. He was stone.

It was impossible.

The king stared at me with solid gray unseeing eyes. His lips were parted in a frozen attempt at a last breath. His one hand was still on the ground, fingers curled into the dirt, as if reacting to pain we couldn’t see. His other arm was outstretched, forever frozen in a last attempt to reach his killer.

My hands were trembling as I moved closer to him to investigate. Slowly, I touched his elevated hand, then drew back in surprise. I gasped.

It was solid stone.

I knew what had been in that bag. I knew why my mother insisted I not open it until I needed it.

My mother had given me a medusa stone. I thought they were a myth. The stories said they were given by a gorgon and could only be used by women who were in danger. Only the bearer would be unharmed by the stone. If I’d opened this around anyone else, it would have been catastrophic.

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