Page 136 of The Eighth Isle

“Do it,” I told him. “Do it right now.”

Grey nodded. “Of course, my queen. We’ll see the end of this by tomorrow.”

Mama Si and Reeva had already started to talk about space and her sisters and spells, and I turned to Grey, holding onto his shirt, hopeful and terrified at the same time. “It’s the right thing to do, right?”

“Yes,” he said without missing a beat, grabbing my face in his hand. “Of course, it is—but baby, I will need to make sure that you’ll be safe first.”

“I will be okay, Grey. You heard Reeva.”

“I will check that spell myself,” he told me. “And if there’s any chance that you or our baby will be hurt?—”

“Wewon’t!” I insisted, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“If there’s any chance at all, we will find another way.”

“Grey,” I warned him, but he shook his head, then brought his forehead to mine.

“It’s non-negotiable. We’ll find another way—whichever way makes sure that not a hair on your head will be harmed. Do you understand?”

I knew that if I argued now, it would get me nowhere. We had never really fought, Grey and I, and not just because we hadn’t been together for long, but because we understood each other. He never pushed me, always knew when to stop—and so did I. I just knew.

So, I sighed and rose on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. “I understand.”

But one way or the other, if there was even the smallest chance, I was going to set myself free of Syra’s magic. She would be gone—away from this world in body and soul and magic—once and for all.

“Something’s wrong.”

The words rang in my ears as if someone beat a dong right next to me. For a good long moment, I wasn’t able to even make sense of them.

Or maybe I was, but I just didn’t want to.

Something wrong, something wrong, something wrong—there was alwayssomething wrong!

“He’s coming,” I whispered, standing on the rooftop of the Paradise, that same place where Valentine and I had talked last time. That same place from where we could see the woods that surrounded the mansion, the ocean, the sky, and the silhouettes of three Isles ahead—Dragons’ Den and Witches’ Wing, and in the middle, the Whispering Woods. We saw it because the rising sun revealed everything to our eyes.

We saw it because Storm was a big dragon, areallybig dragon, as black as the night, so it was easy to spot him against the blue of the sky. The sunlight at his side made him look like he was bathing in fire, especially when his roar reached us, and it shook me to my core.

I didn’t know Storm, not nearly as well as I knew Shadow, but that roar…

“He’s coming, isn’t he?”

“He’s…” Grey paused, like he didn’t want to say what was on his mind. Like he didn’t want to admit to himself what he already knew—because he knew Storm. They were connected in a way that nobody could really understand. He said he sometimes even knew what Storm was thinking, and Stormalwaysknew what went on in Grey’s mind. That’s how he’d heard earlier today, when Grey had come here and had released his magic to search for Storm, wherever he was in the Isles, and called him back.

Together with Valentine.

And now…

“He’s alone, Fall.”

Storm came back alone. Without Valentine. Without Shadow.

Just…Storm.

“Why?” I asked, because I didn’t want to admit it, either. “Why—is hesailingback here? Did Valentine get a boat?Whyis he alone?!”

Grey turned to look at me, and in his eyes, I saw the answer just fine—or, at least, what he suspected.

WhatIsuspected.

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