Page 27 of Crown of Wrath

Honest words. He promised that, and he’s kept that promise. “Cole, I don’t know what happened before. I felt… wrong. It was like I didn’t understand what was happening. You and the Shade were different people.”

I frown as I try to put the pieces together. “I wasn’t afraid of the Shade, but you…” I strain to find the words. I don’t understand the feelings I had, or maybe it’s that I don’t understand thelackof feelings. They seem so far away, like distant memories.

“You experienced too much loss. Your mind and soul began to splinter.”

I frown. “I don’t feel like that now. It’s like I wasn’t me? The decisions I made… They weren’t what I’d have done. I would have let all of us die, Cole.”

He nods and hesitates for a moment. “You weren’t yourself. There was too much pain all at once.”

I purse my lips and put my hand on Cole’s cheek. “I’ve missed your touch.”

As soon as my fingers brush his skin, it’s like he can breathe again, but then he stiffens and pulls back. “No. Queen Maeve, I hurt you. I tricked you. I manipulated you and forced you to take the Painted Crown.”

I’m finally seeing him for the man that he is. He’s someone just as broken as me except that he’s held it together while I fell apart.

He kneels before me, his head bowed to the ground and his voice thick with regret. “I’m yours to command, my Queen, but I don’t deserve your touch.”

Part of me wants to tell him to stop being an idiot and to stand up, but I understand how he feels. For the first time in so long, I let my mind move across the bond that still holds us together. I see that burned desert landscape that I once helped to heal.

Moving through the landscape is no longer painful. I’ve helped Cole to heal the wounds of his father and his past. The winds are still there, and occasionally there are gusts of heat, but they’re nothing like they once were.

In the center of that landscape, the obsidian tower still rises high into the sky, but it’s a broken tower. Cracks cover it. Pieces of it have fallen, leaving gaps between the bricks of black stone. Shadows ring it, occasionally lashing out against the stone and leaving jagged edges.

The only thing that’s helped him to survive is about to collapse. And it’s all because of me.

I press my hand against the stone and words assault my mind.You’ve gotten slow. Lie to me again, and you will die. I can’t love the sword that killed my cousin.

They rip through me. Angry, terrible words that cut at the soul of a male that would have given everything to save me. In the end, he was just as much a pawn as I was.

“Oh, Cole…” I say with a sigh. “This is not the way it’s supposed to be. I was supposed to heal you, not break you more than your father ever could.”

I can feel the flayed bits of my soul shiver at the feelings that roll through me. Should I even be allowed to be here when I’m the cause of so much of his pain?

I shake my head. No. This isnotabout me. This is about the anguish that Cole’s going through. I run my fingers over the black stone, the scent of fresh rain washing over me again,and power flows through me. Shadows move from my fingers over the tower, finding the gaps and filling them. Twisting and writhing over that cold stone, they seek any piece that isn’t whole.

“No,” a voice whispers over the wind. “I don’t deserve your help. Your soul is fraying because of me.”

That’s when I realize my hands are shaking, and the shadows that have flowed from me until now have nearly faded. Being here, in this place, makes me realize just how terribly I’ve treated him. My heart aches for him. Sadness destroys the shadows just as quickly as peace does.

“You deserve everything, Cole. You are not the enemy, and I’ve treated you like one. Hazel didn’t die because of you. All you’ve done is try to save people.”

I close my eyes, and I can’t will the drumbeat in my core to sound. The wisps of inky darkness that have spread over the tower fade, and the cracks and broken pieces are just as obvious as they were before.

The drumbeat of desire may not work right now, but when my fingers press against the obsidian tower of Cole’s mind, I can feel the stone below it. Below the sand and sharp glass, below the winds and pain, there’s a foundation that it was all built upon.

Red stone. Crimson, yet not the marble of the Keep of Flames. This stone is flames made crystal. It’s sharp and dangerous and terrifying, like dragon fire. This gives him strength when everything in his world has tried to break him.

Like I did in Stormhaven, I pull it upward. I can’t do it all at once. Even with as strong as I am, I can’t force Cole to accept the strength of his birthright. I can’t force his mind and soul to heal the cracks in the obsidian tower all at once.

This will take time. This will be hard, and I can’t do it by myself. Cole will have to stand in this space andwantto rebuild this tower out of crystalized dragon fire eventually. But I canstart it. I can remind him of the strength that he was born with. I can point him down the path to healing.

Red crystal covers the first foot of the tower, smothering the swirling black stone. It feels right in a way that so many other things don’t. Cole is not the Shade. Cole is not shadows. He is the Prince of Flames, and his mind should embrace it. The destructive tendencies. The fire that burns away the rot.

Cole Cyrus is the strongest Immortal I’ve ever met. In magical, physical, and emotional strength.

I will not allow him to shatter. I will not allow his future to be worse than his past.

“You deserve everything, Cole,” I say. “And I will not allow your self-loathing to get in the way of it.”

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