Page 79 of Heavy is the Crown
She looks at Ciaran, who has managed to push himself up to a seated position. “Let’s go hunt your fucking brother.” He gives her a nod, but I see the hesitation in his eyes. Astrea unleashes her power, death and destruction pouring out of her in waves that drown us all, as she goes in search of revenge. The two move out of the room, Ciaran casting a look filled with grief back toward me, so much fucking grief that it almost brings me to my knees.
When my eyes finally connect with my mate’s, I know before I even reach them that Ava is gone. I know that space in my chest is truly empty, nothing but hollow pain and desperation. A void that will never be filled. I run toward them but pull up short when I see Ava’s white skin splashed with red. Tears cascade down my face as I fall to my knees, fists tearing at my hair. Shadow screams, rage and grief pulsing out of him in a tsunami that overtakes everything.
The world around us dims, and I can only see the broken body of my mate, only the failure of not reaching them in time. Shadow meets my eyes, and I know we won’t recover from this. I don’tdeserveto recover from this. The failure is mine and mine alone. Shadow sobs into Ava’s body, her name a prayer on his lips as he begs whatever gods we have to bring her back.
I’m not sure how long I sit on my knees, a broken shell of a man, watching my mate hold our heart in his hands. I throw my head back, and the sound I emit is nothing short of a broken cryas I shift back to my dragon, the pain too great to stay in my human form.
Shadows gaze cuts to mine. “Don’t you dare leave me, too,” he growls. He stands, cradling Ava’s limp form in his arms, as if my shift has galvanized movement. “Let’s go.” His broken voice echoes in my head. He opens a portal and steps through before I follow him, still in dragon form.
FORTY-SEVEN
There are creatures in our world that dream walk from one realm to another. Often seeking their mates without knowing.
-Priestess Codex
Jackson
Cleaning up Hell and the mess Oisin has left in his wake after fleeing is taking more time than I care to admit. His mockery of a palace and the city around it is nothing more than a refugee camp at this point. Bodies are still being uncovered days after the battle. I pinch the bridge of my nose as another tension headache begins to form.Clearly, Dios did not fuck the tension from me like he said he would.
The death god surprised me by not only remaining at my side even after the battle was done but following to the lake house we are currently at. I had assumed he would return to his club, but thus far, he has made no indication that he has any intent of leaving.Which is good because if I’m alone long enough, my anxiety might just finally take me under.Since the battle, andtruthfully even before that, my anxiety has begun to take on a life of its own again. My nervous tapping is now a constant movement.
The long sigh from Kallen interrupts my thoughts.
“Yes?” I ask from behind the large oak desk. This nuisance arrived shortly after the dragons disappeared with my sister, wolf-shifter mate in tow. Both covered in gore and presenting an Elker head as a prize. Dios and Harrow had arrived only moments before, the latter with her mask ripped free of her face.
“Are we going to talk about the plan moving forward?” Kallen asks, her voice taking on a hint of boredom. It takes everything in me to keep from organizing the papers strewn about on the desk in front me just to give my hands something to do.
“Astrea and Ciaran are back in Gothic Grove,” I say. After the hunt for his brother and Lady Ornate failed, he rapidly pulled his mate back to the city. I can’t fault him; he almost lost her. I would have done the same thing.But would you? Because you let Harrow stay, and now look at her.
The image of Harrow in the metal mask will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my days. Regardless of the fact it’s off now.
“The Harbinger cannot be brought back into this.” Kallen’s voice is deadly quiet. “She will lose herself to that darkness, and we do not want what will awaken from that. Let them run the city, but do not allow her back in Hell.”
Her mate looks at her with a look that I can’t quite place as he grips her uninjured shoulder. The fact that this witch defeated an Elker, that they both walked away from it, is astounding. Not many people can claim to have done that. So, her saying she’s worried about what will happen if Astrea comes back into my realm is enough to have me heeding her advice.
“Astrea and Ciaran will take over The Playground, along with Drago’s club, for now,” I say.
“You seem awfully cavalier about them taking over your sister's place. Are you going to tell us why you aren’t grieving your sister and her mates?” Demon asks. The shifter's blue eyes appraise me, his wolf just beneath the surface.
I shrug. “This is Hell. Death isn’t the same here.” It’s the least complicated answer I can give. And it’s technically the truth. Death doesn’t exist here the same way it does in Gothic Grove. So, while I worry about my sister's soul, I’m not distressed. The distressing part is her mates. Having two dragons loose in Hell won’t end well for anyone. Particularly those two dragons.
Kallen stands up. “Well, that’s not cryptic or anything.” Walking over to the bar, she grabs the open bottle of wine atop it and takes a long swig, forgoing a glass. “Now, we should talk about the plan surrounding Oisin. Do we know what he wants? Where would the little weasel hide?”
As I move to open my mouth, the door to the room swings open. It’s the scent that hits me first, the first rain of the season overlaid with sandalwood, and I don’t need to look up to know who I’ll be staring at. My heart drops to my stomach, and my chest pinches tightly. I clench my fingers into a tight fist.
“Your fucking ex-boyfriend is inmyForest.” Her voice sends shivers through my body. I slowly raise my eyes off the wood surface of the desk and lock them onto a pair of storm-gray eyes framed by long black hair.
“Little fox.” Her nickname feels like a curse on my lips, even as my whole body is begging to move toward her.
She crosses her arms over the cropped white tank top she has covering her chest, the gold bangles on her wrist ringing through the room as they hit each other. The long, smooth green skirt she wears settles around her, brushing the ground, but not before I catch a glimpse of her toned leg peeking through the slit that goes up to her hip. She’s grown up.
Her eyes are hard when I reach them again, having drank my fill of her body. “Arcanna or Lady of Souls to you,” she spits at me.
I don’t let it show that my heart cracks a little hearing that. Growing up, she had always been little fox to me. And only me. Late into the night, we would lie in my bed talking about everything and anything, until the night we took things too far, made promises we never should have, and in the end, it ruined everything.
I open my mouth, to say what, I’m not sure, but anything feels better than the silence choking me. But she raises her hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Jackson, I have no interest in whatever excuse you were about to try to soothe me with. I’m here on business only.”
“And what would that be?” Kallen asks. As if Arcanna is just now realizing other people are in the room, she turns and looks at them. Kallen smiles at her, a curling of her lips that looks slightly unhinged.
