Page 102 of A Petal in the Crown

"I'll see you on the other side," Thomas said with a sad smile before charging forward to fight to protect Emma—even in death—just as he had promised her.

Chapter 67

Gray

Flashes of fire flickered in the distance, lighting up the sky again and again in bright orange bursts of immense power. With every flash, Gray’s heart stuttered, wondering if it had been aimed at Lea. If she had dodged it. Or if… No. He couldn’t even think the words. She had to be okay. Surely he would feel it if she were hurt. That his body would echo her pain.

The clatter of swords made Gray pause, and he dodged left to avoid a group of soldiers locked in battle, their fighting spreading to where he fought the fenrir. The giant wolves fanned out, just as determined to keep the soldiers away from Lea as they were to keep Gray from getting to her.

He used the chaos to his advantage. Again and again, Gray sliced through their necks, desperate to get to Lea, blood spattering across his face and clothes until he was certain he looked as if he had bathed in it. But still, they continued their attack, just as desperate to stop him. His shadows fought alongside him, pushing the wolves back until a gap appeared between them.

He raced toward it, a smaller, tan wolf snapping at his heels. He grabbed it by the scruff of its neck with his shadows and ripped it away,venturing on as more soldiers appeared, taking his place and continuing the fight.

"That way!" Janelle called, catching his attention. He scanned the battleground, his soldiers locked in intense fights with the fenrir all around him, until he saw a flash of purple hair sticking out in the chaos. "Around that way!" she said again, gesturing to her right.

Gray wasted no time. He surged forward, dodging the fighting and slipping into the trees, somehow avoiding detection. Another bright flash of fire lit up the sky, and in the flicker of light, a lake appeared in the distance. He raced toward it, certain that if he could just make it to the fiery battle he was witnessing glimpses of, he would find Lea.

His heart raced as he got closer, his skin prickling with electricity, confirming that his mate was near. He could feel her fury—her power. She was alive.

The trees thinned as he neared the lake, and through them, Gray saw a wall of fire towering at least thirty feet high. Gray shot his shadows forward, pushing them through the massive flames, reaching out with all he had as he searched for his wife. His everything.

"Lea!" he roared, his heart hammering so hard his ribcage hurt, but he didn’t stop. He pushed more magic into his shadows, commanding them to part the flames. Through a gap in the fiery wall, Lea appeared, Alaric's sword pressed against hers as he pushed it down toward her neck, and standing over them was Eudora, her mouth moving in an incessant chant as Lea crumbled beneath the weight of Alaric’s force.

“No!” he screamed, panic surging up his throat as he tried to close the distance, but he was too far to reach her. "Lea!" he screamed again, his voice amplifying as it spread over the lake. Eudora’s head snapped toward him, her eyes flaring with fury as they met his. As if they were nothing, she shoved his shadows parting the flames away, snapping the wall of fire closed once more.

Chapter 68

Lea

Lea’s back arched as she fought for the strength to push back against Alaric. She was nearly drained, her whole body in agony, but still she reached inside, desperate to find shadows lingering in her chest to fight off Eudora.

She searched her chest—between every rib, in every vein, but there was nothing left. The pain was too much, and her head swam, her vision going black as she fought to stay awake. To fight.

And then, so suddenly it shocked her searing lungs into taking a deep, sharp breath, her pain eased. Lea kept fighting, pushing back against Alaric’s sword, wondering if this was what death would feel like this time around—if her pain would ease until she faded away into nothing. It didn’t matter. She would fight until her final breath, and then, she would continue fighting.

Once again, Lea sent up a prayer to the goddess that Emma had taken the potion in time, that she was safely hidden away and tethered to the other side.

Alaric pushed down again, somehow harder than before, but this time, she was able to gain ground, the cool metal of the sword leaving her throat. Her pain eased further, her strength growing as adrenaline pumped through her body.

She pushed back again with a surge of strength, and the sword flew out of Alaric’s hand, soaring across the circle and disappearing into the ring of fire. Alaric's face went pale as Lea dragged herself to stand, her movements growing less shaky by the moment. Eudora's eyebrows furrowed, and her words became strangled, but Lea ignored her. There was no time.

She reached inside Alaric once more, grabbing the final scraps of his power. He turned to run, but Lea grabbed his hair with her shadows, yanking him backward and holding him in place. She pulled on the last thread of his magic, bracing herself for the surge of agony that would follow as she severed it from Alaric’s body, but it never came.

Alaric fell to his knees, throwing up into the grass as he grasped at his chest. “You— You fucking bitch!” he shouted, struggling to get to his feet. “I’ll fucking gut you—”

Lea didn’t hear the end of his threat as Eudora collapsed beside her with a thud. Blood spurted from her nose and ears, bubbling from her mouth as she continued to chant. She met Lea's eyes, and Lea sucked in a sharp breath as she took in the fear and desperation in them. Blood seeped from between Eudora's teeth as she ended her spell, and with those final words, Lea's pain faded away completely.

It was as if she was looking into a mirror for the first time, seeing herself and the worldaround her with absolute clarity. Suddenly, everything made sense. Her heart ached as she looked down at the witch. The one who had deceived them all, but not in the way Lea had thought. Eudora wasn't fighting against them, wasn't helping Alaric, or trying to weaken her or prevent her from taking Alaric's magic. She was taking it for herself.

Lea had no time to ask questions. To confirm her suspicions. As Alaric fought against her hold, she wrapped her fingers more firmly around her sword and threw Alaric to his back in the mud. She spread hershadows out, pinning him down at the wrists and ankles, and stalked toward him like the queen she was—head held high, body covered in blood, mud, and ash, and vengeance radiating off of her in waves. A petal fell from her crown, dancing away in the wind, but she didn't care. Didn’t need more time before the last, and final petal still in her crown fell. She was ending this. Now.

Without ceremony or final words, she plunged her sword into Alaric's chest, blood spurting from the long wound with every beat of his black heart and splashing against her already crimson-soaked clothing. He roared in pain, in fury, and then, he began to laugh.

Lea's blood ran cold as his laughter grew maniacal, blood trickling from the sides of his mouth in a caricature of a frown.

"You think you can kill me?" he laughed again, but even through the laughter, his voice was low and full of menace. Lea shivered as he cackled again, then stopped abruptly, meeting her eyes. "I have no soul left to kill," he said. He tried to sit up, the sword still in his chest, but Lea kicked him back down. With a strength she hadn’t thought possible now that he’d lost all his magic, Alaric fought back, pushing himself upward. The blade slid deeper and deeper into his flesh, through his bones and out his back, but still, he fought, as if he no longer felt the burden of pain.

"Iamdeath," he said, blood flying from his mouth as he used both hands to grip the sword's blade. His fingers were sliced to the bone as he pulled on the sword with inhuman strength and slowly drew the blade from his chest, inch by inch. “And death,” he pulled again, another sliver of sword sliding free, “cannot be killed!”

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