Page 125 of Void of Endings
Maeve whirled around to see Laurel standing across the field, a bored expression gracing her beautiful face.
She was decked in her sleek black regalia, the same stunning leather armor she wore the night she saved Maeve from the wandering souls in the Ether. Her amethyst hair was twisted back into a high ponytail that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes sparkled like black diamonds, and in one hand, she carried the Key to Oblivion. She twirled it idly, and its terrifying blade stole every shred of light it touched.
A shiver streaked down Maeve’s spine.
Laurel stalked toward them, then stopped, cocking one hip to the side, as though she’d rather be anywhere else.
Rowan muttered something about fate, and Maeve was about to ask him what he meant when Laurel tossed a hasty glance over her shoulder.
“Time to go.” She spun, raising the Key to Oblivion. It arched through the air, reopening the void.
Dark tendrils curled outward from the widening chasm like the fingers of death.
“Go? But I just got here.” Rowan nodded toward the field. “Maeve has to?—”
“Maeve already knows what she has to do,” Laurel snapped, annoyed. Then her black gaze raked over Maeve, her brows lifting with suggestion. “Time works differently when one shatters the realms.”
Maeve bristled, unsure if it was merely a statement of fact or a blatant insult.
“What was seconds for you, Rowan, was far longer for Maeve.” Laurel glanced over at her, and for a brief second, her icy exterior melted. “Have no fear, that which awaits you on the other side has not changed. Everything is as you left it.”
Confusion left Maeve dumbfounded. Had time stopped within the Spring Court? She opened her mouth to ask when Laurel shook her head.
“Really though.” Laurel nudged her closer to the void. “You have to return. Now.”
“But…”
“Go quickly!” Laurel rolled her eyes to the blue heavens, then looked back over her shoulder again. “Before we piss him off further.”
“Piss who off?” Maeve demanded.
Laurel groaned, her aggravation palpable. “Someone you’ll have the pleasure of meeting in another time.”
Perhaps it was the urgency in Laurel’s tone, or that Maeve simply didn’t want to miss her opportunity to return to Faeven, to Tiernan, to try her damndest to win the war. But she nodded, then turned, staring headlong into the shadowy void.
“Rowan?” Maeve looked over at him. “Are you coming with me?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m right behind you, Princess.”
“Good luck, Dawnbringer,” Laurel called out to her. “May the tides of fate be in your favor.”
Maeve blinked. She’d heard that before.
Without thinking, and revived with fresh determination, she leapt into the void. But then a hand grabbed hers and held tight.
Maeve twisted against the shadows, fought as they tugged her. She kicked hard, her free arm flailing as she turned. There was Rowan, reaching through the void, straining to hold on to her hand.
“Rowan?” Apprehension caused her brow to furrow, and something akin to trepidation lanced through her heart. “Come on, you have to hurry. The void is closing.”
His expression shuttered, but she saw it before he could hide it away—his intent to stay behind. He wasn’t coming back with her.
“I told you already, my fate has been decided.” Dark teal hair fell over half of his face, shielding his eyes. But even through the damp strands, she saw the lavender hue of them burn bright with one emotion meant solely for her. Love. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“What?” Maeve croaked, and the shadows holding her tugged again. She was losing her grip. Losing him, too. “But what will happen to you? Where will you go?”
“To another lifetime.” He squeezed her hand, but their fingers were slipping. “To another realm.”
Unexpected tears caused her vision to blur. They were cold as they slid from the corner of her eyes.
