Page 64 of A Reign of Malice
I follow her gaze to where Estee and Theo lie unmoving, their presence still commanding, even in death. Isla’s breaking apart before us, her pain bleeding into the room like an open wound, but there’s nothing any of us can say to her. No words to fix what’s been done.
I turn to Sloane. She’s still standing, still breathing, still here. And while it might be selfish, that’s everything to me.
I lift a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, grounding us both in the warmth of our bond. She doesn’t resist. Instead, she leans into my touch, pressing her forehead lightly against my chest, her breath warm against my skin.
“I was terrified,” I admit, my voice quiet but raw. “Out there, in that fight, I thought I might lose you.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “I thought I might lose you too,” she whispers. “We weren’t prepared for that.”
“No, but you handled yourself as if you were.” I slide my fingers into her hair, tugging gently until she lifts her gaze to mine. “I’m sorry I tried to shield you as if you couldn’t protect yourself. I see your strength, Sloane. I feel it in every breath you take, in every strike you made on that battlefield. I hope you can understand that my actions weren’t out of doubt or disrespect. They were instinct. Because you are, without question, more than I ever could have dreamed of.” I let my thumb brush over her cheek. “My mate. My equal.”
Her lips part slightly, and even though she doesn’t smile, I see it in her eyes. That flicker of light, of something deep and unbreakable between us. Then her hand slides over my chest, resting over my heart.
“Thank you,” she says softly. “I’ve spent too many years feeling like I had to prove my worth.”
A growl rumbles from deep within me before I can stop it, the very idea of her doubting herself making my blood burn.
It earns me a small, breathy laugh. “Easy, my mate,” she murmurs. “That’s in the past now. Once we get back, everything’s going to change.”
The reminder of home makes my hands tighten around her waist. My voice is steady, firm. “I’m going to kill him, Sloane. I hope you don’t have any objections.”
She is the only one who could stop me now. The only thing between Aeson and his inevitable death. But she shakes her head without hesitation.
“I’ll be right by your side,” she promises, her voice steady, unwavering. “I know he made you suffer. But I don’t care about vengeance, Julian. I just want him gone. So that this,” she glances at Estee and Theo, her jaw tightening, “can one day feel like nothing more than a nightmare we’ve woken from. For all of us.”
I let out a breath, pressing my forehead to hers. “No matter what happens, we end this together.”
The moment lingers, taut and unwavering, before the air shifts once more. A familiar energy crackles through the space, pressing against my skin like a slow-building storm. Then, in a flash of swirling gold, Aurora appears.
But she isn’t alone.
A young woman stands beside her, her presence an unsettling mix of mortal and divine. Hair like fresh-fallen snow cascades down her back, the strands almost too bright to look at directly. When she turns to us, deep violet eyes glimmer with an eerie, knowing light, centuries of wisdom encased in a deceptively youthful face.
If I didn’t already sense her wolf, I’d think she was Aurora’s direct descendant. Though there’s something more. Something beyond any shifter I’ve encountered before.
A low growl rumbles from Isla as she surges to her feet, her stance tight with barely contained rage. “What the hell is Elyn doing here?” Her eyes flick to Aurora then to the woman at her side, suspicion sharpening her every breath.
Aurora waves a dismissive hand, as if Isla’s outburst is nothing more than a mild annoyance. “She’s here to ensure I don’t die.”
Elyn inclines her head slightly, her attention settling solely on Isla and Asher. “This isgodmagic,” she says, voice steady, deliberate. “Something none of you are used to dealing with.”
Isla’s nostrils flare, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “But you are now?” she snaps. “I’m not in the mood for games. From either of you. So tell us the whole plan. No riddles. No half-truths.”
Aurora exhales, her gaze lowering to Theo and Estee,their still forms a silent demand. “The way they died—by the hand of another god—it complicates things.”
Something cold slithers down my spine.
Aurora lifts her chin, meeting Isla’s burning stare head-on. “I can bring them back,” she continues, “but if I do so the way I did for your mother, there may be consequences. They may look like themselves, but there’s a chance they won’t remember who they are. That their bond may not even exist any longer.”
The quiet that follows is suffocating. Isla’s breath catches, her body going rigid. I see it, her absolute refusal to accept a world where Estee doesn’t know her. Where she doesn’t feel her mate’s presence in every breath she takes.
But it’s Asher who speaks first. “And Elyn’s here because there’s an alternative?”
Aurora’s expression shifts slightly, something close to solemnity flickering beneath her usual bravado. “Correct. I can tie them to my essence,” she says, pointing at Theo and Estee. “Their lives will be linked to mine. As long as I live, so do they. If I die, they die.”
She shrugs, an edge of smug confidence creeping into her voice. “But let’s be honest. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve lived thousands of years, and I’ll live plenty more. It’s far more likely they’ll live out their natural lives, die of old age, and be reborn like normal, no longer connected to me once that happens.” Her lips curve slightly, almost wry. “While not ideal, this is the only other option.”
The tension thickens, heavy and unmoving. Isla doesn’t speak. She studies Aurora, as if weighing the goddess’s words, searching for deception. Then, finally, she turns to Elyn. “And you? What’s your role in all this?”
