Page 31 of The Fallen Kingdom

Her expression says everything. She’s giving them an opportunity to switch sides. To save themselves. They’re taking their place in a war they never started, one that began thousands of years ago.

Aithinne is the kinder monarch. She’s the better monarch. He’s just the stronger one. The one meant to live.

None of the fae answer. Their composure never falters; they’re ready to die if necessary. Kiaran must have trained them well. Apparently he never lost his ruthlessness.

A faery at the front slides her blade out of its sheath and the others follow. They’ve declared their allegiance. The female soldier charges toward Aithinne like a damned fool with a death wish.

Aithinne doesn’t hesitate. She grabs the soldier around the neck like an errant child and holds her effortlessly in place. I wince at the gargled choke the soldier makes.

“Last chance,” she tells the others. “Choose my side and live, or die right here. Right now. As your king’s cannon fodder.”

Their silence is her answer. When none of them steps forward, Aithinne tightens her jaw. “Fine.”

She snaps the soldier’s neck and rams her sword into her gut. Then she lunges for the other fae. Aithinne is spectacular in battle. She cuts one down, whirls, cuts another.

I take my place alongside her. And it’s like I’ve come home.

Death is in my blood. I breathe it in like oxygen. The darkness inside me roars in response, powering each thrust of my sword, forcing my blade through sinew and bone. Their energy fills me, one right after the other. I feed on every kill. Each one makes me stronger, more powerful.

The battle happens so quickly, it’s as if time is suspended. Derrick wanted me to become the creature I was in the forest, but with my memories I’m something different. I’mme, only faster, more efficient. I kill with the speed of a brush fire through a forest. Nothing can stop me. They never even have the chance to scream.

The darkness inside me grows. Each thrust of my sword makes it roar in response, makes it scream. The Cailleach’s power is a battle cry in my blood, in my bones. My heart is singing.

I have the last faery in my sight, the blade at her throat—

“Aileana!”

Something about that voice makes me pause.

“Aileana,” she says again, slowly. Carefully. Like I’m an animal in the wild—a deadly one.

I’m breathing hard as the darkness clears from my vision.

It’s Aithinne I have pressed against a tree. Aithinne who I’m about to kill. Aithinne I have at the end of my blade with a stream of fresh blood down her neck—a reminder of how close I came to killing her.

“It’s all right,” she says when she sees the look on my face. “It’s all right. You’re all right.”

No. No, I’m not. I almost killed you and I almost killed Derrick before and I’m not all right. I’m not—

A searing pain bursts through my temple. I stagger back. The oxygen leaves my lungs, and suddenly I can’t get in enough air.

“Aileana!”

I’m on the ground, fingernails digging into the dirt as I come back to myself. It takes a moment for my blurred vision to clear.

A sudden wetness crosses my lips. I dart out my tongue and taste the overwhelming coppery tang of blood coming from my nose. “Aithinne,” I breathe. That’s all I can manage. Fear speeds up my pulse.

I can bring you back to life, but eventually my powers will kill you.

It’s started. I can feel it. The way my body is weakening. Now that the darkness has left and my power is contained, I’m trembling from its use, tired. So tired I can’t move.

What do humans do best? They die.

Aithinne crouches next to me and gently lifts my chin to get a better look. “You’ll have to be more careful when you search for the Book. Use your powers sparingly or they’ll rip you apart.”

I pull away from her touch. “How long do I have?”

“That depends,” she says carefully. “If you keep using them like this, not long. If you don’t, you might have more—”

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