Page 135 of Burning Crowns

He grinned and so did Rose. ‘Perhaps you are a romantic after all, Shen Lo.’

‘Perhaps you set romance alight in me.’ Shen glanced through the forest, where the soldiers were still making their way back to the Mother Tree, and his expression sobered. ‘I nearly lost you twice, Rose. I’ll never lose you again. I swear it.’

Rose’s heart danced as she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. There was just one more matter to settle. ‘If we are making this official, I’ll be expecting a ring.’

Wren

CHAPTER 51

Wren hurried down to the treeline, where hundreds of weary survivors were emerging from the Weeping Forest. She met them at the edge of the forest, sharing in their bitter triumph and empathizing with their pain. She was glad of the strength that had returned to her body, relieved that her feelings and actions were her own once more. Instead of despair, hope bloomed inside her. For the first time in months, her limbs felt light, her head clear. She was free. Now that the curse had been broken and Oonagh Starcrest was truly dead, she could be the queen Banba had always believed she could be. She could be the leader her people needed. Wren finally felt equal to the task. And more than that, she was eager for it.

But first, she had to find Tor. Worry lanced through her as she searched the sea of weary soldiers stumbling out of the trees. From the corner of her eye, she watched Rose reunite with Shen, and released a breath of relief at seeing her best friend alive and well, if a little bloodied.

When Rose and Shen slipped into the forest for a quiet moment, Wren continued her desperate search. She stalked back and forth, quietly grieving the bodies of witches and soldiers alike as they were carried out of the woods and laid down beneath the great Mother Tree.There were hundreds of casualties. Wren stilled at the sight of Rowena and Bryony, who had fought side by side, and died that way, too. Feeling as if her heart was truly breaking, she knelt beside her friends.

‘Rest easy,’ she sobbed. ‘You’re free now.’

The Gevran army arrived after the others. They followed a limping Princess Anika through the trees, carrying their dead brethren and beasts out on to the moonlit plain.

Celeste ran to meet them, shouldering Anika’s weight as she guided her up towards the Mother Tree, where Lei Fan and Grandmother Lu had cast a ring of everlights to light up the dark. The rest of the witches were here healing the most gravely injured. Wren paid her respects to the fallen Gevrans, terrified of finding two familiar faces lying among the dead, but there was no sign of Tor or Alarik. There was no sign of them anywhere. She turned around, her heart hammering as she searched the masses.

Where the hell are they?

‘Don’t look so frightened, Queenie,’ said Kai, who arrived presently without a shirt. ‘I survived.’

‘I see your shirt made a worthy sacrifice,’ said Wren. ‘Have you seen King Alarik? Captain Iversen?’

‘Not for an age,’ he said, after thinking on it. ‘But if I had to guess, I’d say the king is at the bottom of the Ortha Sea. And he’s not alone down there.’ His gaze darkened. ‘Things got pretty ugly once you disappeared.’

Wren bit off a curse, refusing to believe it. She had been so attuned to Alarik’s pain for so long, surely she would have sensed it,feltit, if he’d drowned. But when she looked for the scar on her wrist, she realized it had disappeared. And so, too, had her connection to the king.

But …no. She would not consider it. Alarik and Tor were safe. Theyhadto be safe. The alternative was simply too harrowing to face. There were more everlights burning down by the forest now, illuminating the stragglers coming through the trees. Wren stalked back and forth, waiting,hoping …

And then at last, she spotted a familiar figure coming through the trees. She knew Alarik by the silver-branch crown on his head, and how he walked towards her with the ease and confidence of a king. A king who was no longer cursed to die.

Wren broke into a run, buoyed by such relief, she thought she might lift into flight. Alarik was alive. He had survived the battle, survived the curse. They had both fought their way to freedom and won. Alarik stopped when he saw her, but Wren was running too fast to slow down. She barrelled into him and they both fell backwards, landing in a heap on the ground.

‘Oops, sorry,’ said Wren, clambering off him.

‘So much for your queenly grace,’ said Alarik, laughing in relief.

‘What queenly grace?’

‘Well, quite.’

Wren looked past him, anxiously scanning the dark mouth of the forest. ‘Where’s Tor?’

‘I’m here.’ Tor emerged through the trees and stepped into the moonlight. He was cradling Elske’s body, his face so stricken Wren’s heart broke once more. And yet when he saw Wren sitting unharmed on the ground, his eyes softened. ‘You’re alive,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘Thank the stars.’

Wren sprung to her feet. ‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ she murmured to the wolf. ‘You beautiful brave creature.’

Elske lay perfectly still in Tor’s arms. Her limbs were stiff and cold and her fur was smeared with dried blood. But when Wren laid her hand on her head, Elske’s gaze flickered. With great effort, she heaved a shallow breath. ‘You’re still here,’ whispered Wren.

Tor hugged the wolf close. ‘She wanted to see you one last time.’

‘Oh.’ Wren’s eyes filled with tears. As her sadness welled, something flickered to life inside her. A familiar whisper of warmth returned to her bones. Magic. By the way it flared, Wren sensed it was yearning to be used.

‘Set her down,’ she said, urgently. ‘Let me work on her.’

---