Page 20 of A Petal in the Crown

Scorched earth crunched beneath Erik’s feet as he continued his patrol through the village. He’d taken to walking the same path through it every day, needing to observe the horrors of what had transpired here, as if giving them space could undo some of the atrocities they’d endured. They’d lost too many. Far too much.

Erik made it to the base of the hill where Lea used to live, where she had taken her final breaths, sacrificing herself to bring Gray back. Where Noah had been killed. Where Emma had almost lost her life. Where Gray had taken his final breath.

He’d walked to this place every day, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to go further. Every time he approached it, his heart would pound and sweat would erupt across his brow. His stomach would churn and his vision would go spotty, terrified that the moment his feet touched that cursed soil where the moon flowers still prospered, completely untouched by the flames, that everything would come rushing back even more vividly than they did in his nightmares every night.

But it was time. Because something wasn’t right. It had beendays, and Lea’s body had shown no signs of decay. This wasn’t completely unusual for the Fae, but Lea had been human. Or, at least, they’d thought she was partly human. But looking at her now, even in death, it was obvious this was yet another way her mother had tried to protect her. What was especially odd, though, was the wreath of moonflowers around her head. Gray hadn’t allowed them to be removed, but even after days without water or sunlight, they remained pristine and perfect. White, almost iridescent.

Sometimes, when Gray needed to eat or sleep and Erik sat vigil with Lea, Erik swore he could see the vines moving. Just enough to make him wonder if he was losing his mind, or if they were still a living, growing thing.

With a deep breath, Erik pushed down his nausea, forcing his feet to trudge up the decimated hill. He was short of breath when he reached the top, and it felt a bit like panic as he struggled to force his heart to slow.

Guilt overwhelmed him as he looked at the spot where the moonflower vines erupted from the earth. The spot where Gray had cut the mate bond from his skin as Erik held Lea back, allowing her to burn him in order to ensure that Gray could make the sacrifice required, not only to save their people, but to save Lea as well.

Erik hadn’t allowed himself to be healed for days, needing the reminder that it was because of him that Lea was dead. He hadn’t been able to save Gray, hadn’t been there when Alaric had plunged the sword through his breastbone. He’d failed his friends, and it was something he would never forgive himself for. Not when he lived, and Lea didn’t.

Erik turned toward where her house had once stood, the still smoldering remains crumbled into the backdrop of the hill. To the side was a crater, roughly the size of a wagon—the place where Alaric had disappeared into thin air like the coward he was.

A feeling of somethingotherrubbed against Erik’s skin, begging him to look closer, and he moved toward the crater, his eyes narrowed. In the middle of the massive hole was a perfect handprint. But that wasn’t what had caught Erik’s attention. It was the magic emanating from it. Embedded into the Earth like a beacon. It felt sinister, wrong in a way that sank into Erik’s bones, begging him to turn around and leave this cursed place immediately. But he couldn’t seem to look away.

All around the crater, the color had been leached from the ground. And while the rest of the hill was nothing but the scorched, ashy remains of grass, here it was simply black.

Ignoring his instincts, Erik moved even closer to the handprint, sweat now dripping down his spine.Run,his subconscious urged him.You’llfind nothing but danger here,it said, but he couldn’t turn away. Refused to fail his friends again. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but this was a clue, a hint to what had happened to the false king.

He crouched down, now only inches away from the pulsing energy of the handprint as he reached out shaking fingers and placed his hand on top of it. The pain was instant, blinding, and Erik shouted in surprise as he pulled his hand away. An image flashed through his mind, there and gone in less than a second, but it didn’t matter. As if Erik’s subconscious had recognized the importance of the vision, it had committed the image to memory.

Ithadto be where Alaric had disappeared to, where his magic had somehow taken him. There was no other explanation Erik could think of. Even better, heknewthe place he’d seen. On the far end of the castle grounds stood an old guard shack, one that had been unused for at least a hundred years. They’d played there as children, before Alaric’s heart had turned completely black. Before it had withered and died in his quest for power.

Erik placed his hand back on the Earth, prepared for the pain this time, but no matter how long he left it there, the vision did not appear again.

"Erik," Janelle’s voice made him jump, and before he even knew what he was doing, he stood and ran to her. She was crying, sobbing, and Erik’s blood ran cold at the sound.

"What’s wrong?" Erik asked, pulling her into his arms, shushing and soothing her as he rubbed her back.

"It’s Lea," Janelle said, her legs giving out as she leaned into him.

He lifted her, supporting her weight fully. "I know. I know—"

"No," Janelle stopped him, lifting her head. Tears streamed from her red eyes, and his breath caught as she smiled. "Erik. She's alive."

Chapter 12

Gray

Afew soldier’s stifled yawns or chatted amongst themselves as they gathered in the great hall. Between them were regular men and women looking around with anxious, darting glances. Gray wondered what they were thinking. They’d been roused from sleep in the early morning hours at Lea’s insistence. She’d needed to know who betrayed them, and he didn’t disagree. So long as a traitor was in their midst, none of them were safe.

Nothing could have prepared Gray for his army’s reaction as their queen walked into the room. Within seconds of her appearing, roughly half of their army had dropped to their knees, pulling medals from beneath their tunics and chanting prayers. Others took weary steps back, or simply stood, slack-jawed and pale. Gray was fairly certain a woman near the back fainted, and the sound of gasps spread like a wave crashing upon the shore.

Lea’s heels clicked against the stone floor, echoing through the chamber until she reached the front, lifting her chin as she scanned the crowd. There was no hint of what she was feeling on her sharp, angular face, not a single inkling of the thoughts running through her head evident as a makeshift throne was brought to the gathering room—an old woodenchair that was as unassuming as a daisy mixed into a field full of wildflowers. But somehow, when Lea sat in it, that is what it became. A throne.

As she lowered herself into the chair, the room quieted, the shocked gasps and muttered prayers turning to hushed whispers that rolled across Gray’s skin like thunderclaps. Their surprise was palpable, bringing a fervent energy to the air that had been missing since the battle.

Gray had wanted to warn their army, but Lea had a plan and insisted that surprising them would be better. It would put the traitor on edge, and wouldn’t allow them time to prepare for their mass interrogation—or worse, flee.

"Quiet," Lea said, her tone calm but commanding, and the whispers ceased completely. The tension in the room grew suffocating as her eyes raked over her rapt audience, Lea’s shadows snaking out in long tendrils. Soldiers shuddered as the dark fingers of her magic wrapped up their torsos and caressed their cheeks, examining them before moving on to the next nervous rebel.

Lea's jaw remained set, her chin high. Once again, Gray wished he knew what she was thinking, longed for the mate bond to allow them to communicate silently. Could she tell who the traitor was through her magic? Or was it something more?

"You might be wondering how I'm here. How it's possible for me to be sitting before you when my body laid cold in Gray’s arms only days ago," Lea finally said, her shadows continuing to thread throughout the crowd. "It was only by the goddess's mercy that I was granted this chance. Alaric must die. He must be defeated for the good of the kingdom. And he would have been, had one of you not betrayed our trust and disclosed our location."

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