Page 129 of Bound By Roses

Either?

If Abby catches that word, there’s no time for her to ask before the all too familiar click of heeled shoes sound from the open doorway.Imelda.

“You moved them?” Her voice is sharp as narrowed violet eyes that match her son’s move from him to each of us, before finally settling on Arabella lying motionless on the stone. She kneels beside her daughter and touches a hand to her now bruising throat. “Why does her heart still beat?”

The blood in my veins turns to ice. She would kill her own daughter to ensure this future doesn’t change. She’s just as cruel as she was the day she poured Jade’s blood down my throat and turned me into the beast that destroyed a kingdom. The same woman who stole my sister and let me believe that I’d murdered her.

My aunt.

I squirm against my bindings, but it’s impossible to break free.

“Oh, he really doesn’t like you,” Void muses, as if he can feel my desperation to escape. And perhaps he can. Right now, my shadow doesn’t belong to me.

“No, I suppose he wouldn’t,” Imelda says, standing and turning back to her son. “You’ve dragged this out long enough. They’ve nearly destroyed my city. The pigs are running amuck. It’s time we end this.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re right, Mother. As always.” He crosses the space between him and Abby, and I can’t help but wonder if her shadow is locking her in place, too. “Where is Terranous?”

She blinks, confused by his question.

Imelda rushes forward until her face is just in front of Abby’s. She must be held in place, otherwise she would have driven that blade in her hand right into that bitch’s neck. “Where. Is. He?” She says each word as if it’s a question all its own.

When Abby doesn’t answer, curiosity returns to Void. “He hasn’t even spoken to you, has he? It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters!” I never thought that Imelda would be the irrational one out of the two of them, but here we are. Even as a teenager, Void is far more in control of his emotions than she is. But then again, he isn’t a teenager, is he? He could be hundreds of years old for all we know. With this kind of power, he might have even existed when the Gods still roamed these lands. Though, judging by his question, he seems to think they still do.

“She has his power. We don’t need him.” He pushes past his mother and takes Abby’s chin in his hand, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. She struggles against his grip, but can’t pull away. I wrestle to free myself again, and can almost swear the smile that blooms on his face is because of my futile efforts. “We have the power to shape this world into whatever we want. Together, we can make it better. Fix what’s broken. Start over from the beginning.”

I don’t like the sound of that, and it doesn’t look like Abby does either.

“I’m not going to help you destroy everything.”

“There cannot be creation without destruction. Together, we can create a world without hunger, without war. I know that’s what you dream about, and this is how we can make that dream a reality.”

He doesn’t see himself as the villain. He sees the evil in this world, the harshness and the cruelty, and his solution is to wipe the slate clean. To kill everyone and everything, and begin anew as if the Chosen were Gods themselves.

But if that were true…

“That wasn’t the plan!” Imelda screeches. It seems she knows about as much of what’s happening as we do.

He doesn’t look at his mother. “Plans change.” He extends a hand to Abby. “What do you say?”

“Never!” Free from her restraints, she swings with her blade and drives it into his heart, just as she once did with me. Just as with my blade, his body rejects it as shadows spill from where the wound should be and send the knife flying across the terrace while leaving him entirely unharmed.

“You little bitch,” Imelda says, slapping Abby across the face with one hand and driving her nails into her chest with the other. Abby’s head arches back as a scream rips through her. Whatever Imelda’s doing, it’s more than just freezing her in place.

‘ABBY!’I try to call to her, but it only reaches her through the bond. The need to get to her fills me and I fight against my shadow’s relentless hold. All I can do is watch as the whites of her eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as her eyes roll back in her head. Void said he can’t kill her, but maybe Imelda can.

The rose on Abby’s chest glows, as do the golden vines that snake down her arms. The light she produces is enough to cut through the darkness, and my own rose illuminates in response, though it has no effect on the shadows that bind me.

And then the palace shakes. No, not the palace.Everything.

Life springs from the soil beneath me, and then in the city below. Flowers, grass, leaves. Trees grow in mere seconds, pushing their way up through the cracks in the city's stone floor. The fires glowing below extinguish as if snuffed out by the new growth pushing through the rubble.

“What is this?!” Imelda asks as a bramble forms between her and Abby. The branches snake around her legs as it grows, wrapping tightly and confining her to a prison far kinder than she deserves. Thorns cut into the skin of her face and arms, tearing through the silver fabric of her gown and speckling it in red. “Nothing grows in Lunae!”

Abby drops to the ground, as if suddenly released from both Imelda’s nails and the shadows that held her. “But it used to.” She pushes the hair from her face as she stares up at herenemies. Imelda—and Void, who seems far too pleased with this development.

“Don’t you see?” he asks, his smile turning smug. “You have more power inside you than you can even imagine. You just have to embrace it. Join us.”

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