Page 157 of The Eighth Isle

“How nice of you to do all the work yourselves,” Andya said. “We are forever grateful!”

“Your free will, human,” Raxae said, shaking her head at me. “You could have sparedallof your lives if you’d chosen to give it to us as easily as you put it in that box—but no matter.”

“We can make great use of it from there, too. End the Seven Isles, start anew with a different continent.Makeone with our magic—oh, what an exciting time ahead!” said Andya, slowly making her way to us—to Grey who was struggling to rise on his hands and knees. “We’ll make our own creatures, too—just like we made the Evernights.”

“It has always been our destiny,” Raxae said, eyes closed as she raised her head to the sky, hands to her chest like all her dreams had finally come true.

My God, I was sick to my stomach.

“Give it to me now, human,” said Andya, reaching out her hand toward me. “Don’t make me kill you quickly—we have plans for you and your little bastard. Give me the box.”

Even though I heard the words and saw and understood, a part of me still didn’t believe this was actually happening. That we’d been fooled by the sirens—again. That we’d dug our own grave when we came here, when we thought we had a plan. How ridiculous it all seemed to me now, when it no longer even mattered.

Because once they got their hands on that box, it was over—not just for us but for every creature who lived on the Isles.

No.

Fuck that.

We’d been fools, all of us. We thought we knew what we were doing and we stepped right into the wolf’s mouth willingly—but I was still breathing, wasn’t I? It wasn’tallover, not yet. The sirens were not going to touch this box, I decided, regardless of everything. I was going to do everything in my power to keep it away from them, no matter what it took.

It was a moment’s decision. Grey was barely on all fours when Raxae kicked him in the face and knocked him down again. His blood spattered all over the ground.

Valentine was right there by my side, looking at me.

I looked at him, too.

We both knew what we had to do.

My body moved on instinct, and I had no clear plan in my mind. I had nothing, just the tiniest bit of hope, but I turned around as fast as my body allowed, grabbed the box from Reeva’s hands, and ran.

Meanwhile Valentine put himself in front of Raxae’s magic as it came for me, so fast and intense it could melt the fucking skin off my flesh.

But I was running.

Trees everywhere around me, and I was hoping to find Storm, but Storm’s roars were coming at me from behind, from the lake. He must have seen Grey struggling to get to his feet and must have engaged in the fight, too, and I was glad for it. The longer they could keep the sirens busy, the farther away I could get. Find the castle. Get to the mirror room. Jump on any of the Isles. Disappear.

I’d sacrificed everything for it.Everything. I would not stop running.

Seconds or minutes passed—my sense of time couldn’t be trusted—but the woods remained the same. I had no idea inwhich direction I was going, but I didn’t dare look back, afraid of what I’d see. I didn’t dare wonder if I was going in the right direction, afraid I’d slow down or stop.

And then there was magic.

I tripped on it like one does on a piece of wood or something. I tripped over magic because it was solid, thick as concrete, and I fell forward with the box clutched to my chest with all my strength.

The laughter of the siren—Fessa, if I wasn’t mistaken—was in my ears, echoing in my head.

No, no, no…

Tears streamed from my eyes, blurring the view in front of me.

“Just where do you think you’re going, little birdie?”

Definitely Fessa.

Move!my own mind urged me. I needed to move. The box was still in my hands—and who cared that commonsense said that there was no way out? Who cared that every instinct in me knew that it was useless, that I would do better to just wait for her to come kill me, not bother to move at all?

No, I didn’t care about any of that, not right now. I just tried to get up and keep that box against my chest and run-run-run!

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