Page List

Font Size:

No Lessia.

Even before he lifted his blurred vision to the scene that didn’t just break his heart but snapped his entire soul in two, he knew.

Somehow, he could feel it in his bones.

Sure enough, a violet reflection with a smaller golden one atop it—stark against the light blue horizon—raced toward the wave and the ship behind it.

As if in a trance, Loche stumbled across the deck, his eyes never leaving the wyvern and the woman riding on it, watchingas they swam closer and closer to the armada—led by the gilded ship, where they could now make out Rioner standing in the bow, his dark green cape flowing behind him and hands raised above his head.

Loche didn’t know what to say as he took the spot beside Merrick.

The Fae whose skin usually glowed subtly golden looked like a wraith, those dark eyes that intimidated even Loche at his worst moments so empty and full at the same time, as if he didn’t know what to feel.

“She told me to let her go,” Merrick said in a monotone.

Loche’s stomach turned at the torment darkening the Death Whisperer’s face.

“Where is she?” It appeared as if the rest of them noticed the world was no longer the same, because the silence that followed Frelina’s scream… it had Loche swerve, and he pretended that he placed a hand on Merrick’s shoulder to comfort him, but really, he needed it as much himself.

“Where?” Lessia’s sister cried. “Where is she?”

No one responded, but Loche heard the group behind them approach, and he’d never felt anything like it when they silently took the places around them: Zaddock, Amalise, and Iviry by Loche’s side. Kerym and the sisters by Merrick. Ardow and Venko holding on to each other as they sidled up by Zaddock.

And finally, Frelina sprinted up to the railing, her scream echoing across the bay. “No! Elessia! No!”

The redheaded Fae came up behind her, and he didn’t react as Frelina fought the arms he placed around her waist, holding her back from diving into the sea.

As if she’d be able to catch up with her sister, who was now mere moments from reaching the ship.

“No, no, no,” Frelina cried, her fists slamming against the railing. “Please! We have to do something!”

“Little…” Raine winced as he caught Loche’s eyes after watching Merrick, who appeared to lose all hope beside him. “Frelina… there is nothing we can do to stop her.”

“What is she doing?” Zaddock breathed when they saw something red glint in the air by Lessia’s hand as she used the wyvern’s spikes to climb higher, almost settling herself by the creature’s head.

“She is killing the king.” Merrick had begun rocking back and forth, and the movement shifted Loche as well as he kept his hold on the Fae’s shoulder. “She is killing him. And she is killing herself.”

Kerym had stopped his wailing, but a low cry began building again in the Fae warrior’s chest—one that didn’t belong there—one that Loche knew he’d have nightmares about for the rest of his life.

The sisters joined in, hums of sorrow whirring in their bodies.

Then Amalise started sobbing, her tears running freely.

Then Ardow broke apart, falling to the deck as Venko tried to hold him together.

Iviry was quiet beside him, but Loche felt the fear rolling off the Fae, and he didn’t recoil when her hand brushed his.

Still, Loche didn’t know what terrified him the most.

Merrick’s face—the rage and fury and sorrow and love and pride that didn’t seem to be able to decide which emotion was strongest—or how small Lessia looked as she repositioned herself on that wyvern.

The world around them quieted, almost as if the entire realm held its breath.

And… perhaps it did.

The strange Fae above them stopped throwing their rocks, only watching the lone half-Fae and her wyvern rushing toward one hundred Fae ships.

The people on the vessels around them stopped their fleeing—the humans and rebels unable to tear their eyes away from the golden-brown-haired woman with the most beautiful amber eyes who carried all their fates as she rushed toward an entire army.