Page 103 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“She won’t beg for you, Ric.”
“Oh, but she will. Because she hates you, hates your mother—hates herself—much more than she hates me.”
Another bolt.
My thoughts fragment into broken flashes of her laugh.
Random memories fill my brain. The way she rolls her eyes when she’s pretending not to care. The brush of her hand. The taste of her kiss. Until I’m nothing but charred flesh and shattered breaths.
And when the black finally takes me, it’s a mercy. My last thought is of Devi—and how I failed her. Because no matter what she said, no matter how Alaric’s speech fed my fears, she sure as hells isn’t marrying that demented king of her own free will.
I cling to that fleeting hope to keep despair from pulverizing all the little pieces of my heart.
Chapter 32
Caged
DEVI
Percy ambushes me the moment I return to my bedroom, bouncing off the mattress. “What happened?” he asks.
My command for him to stay here quietly and wait has expired, but I stare at my feet to hide from his disappointment. “I told Seth it was over.”
He hovers closer, bracing both hands under my chin to lift it. “What is going on with you?”
The numb ache from before has spread through my entire body. “Maybe I’ve reached the end.”
I was always swimming against the current, always pretending to be some indomitable force. Strong. Untouchable. A queen, even after they exiled me from my court. But the truth is, I was just good at posing. Good at hiding the cracks beneath the crown.
Now, I can’t even pretend. My limbs are heavy and unwilling. Every breath is borrowed. There’s no magic left in me—no clever scheme waiting to be deployed, no spark to chase.
I feel…estranged from my own body.
Like someone scooped my soul out and left the hollow shell behind to fester.
The dark thoughts I’ve nurtured in exile haunt me. They scream through the silent room, cruel and familiar. I killed my mother. I abandoned my people. I lost my power, my pride, my essence.
I’m nothing.
I used to drown that dark little voice in whatever distraction I could find. Lovers. Drama. Friendship. But there’s nothing left to fight for. No crown worth the hassle. I’m not powerful, or cunning, or brave. Not anymore.
I’m truly worthless.
The door creaks open, and Alaric strolls in with a genuine smile on his face. He deposits a show-box sized cage on the mattress, and I blink at it a few times. His proximity makes the little voice echo even louder.
“Here. It’s for your pet. You can get him back after the wedding.”
The birdcage is made of sleek lyranthium bars, welded close together—the kind of old-fashioned design you’d find in Spring, meant to catch a singing bird.
Alaric hands it over, and I fumble with the latch for a second before opening the small door.
My Faeling crouches and snarls, digging his boots into the mattress.
My throat bobs. “Please, Percy. I don’t want to fight with you.”
The words feel foreign on my tongue. I don’t usually beg.
“You want me to get in there?” he barks, eyes wide.
