Cronan nodded. “A choice I made once long ago kept me from it. I need to either go back and change things...or find another key throughout the universe. And then, only the diamond can make me powerful enough to link all worlds together. Into one world. One universe. And I will rule them all.”
Go back in time. Just a few days prior, he had helped Oro go back in time. With an artifact he brought with him. He didn’t remember what he was supposed to do with it, though.
All he knew now was that Cronan was clearly wary of trusting anyone. If Grim was going to stay a while, his ancestor would eventually find out anything he had in his possession without disclosing it.
Better to earn Cronan’s trust now.
“Then it sounds like you need this,” Grim said. He reached into his pocket—and pulled out a pile of threads.
Cronan’s eyes widened in unfiltered surprise. “The Threads of Time,” he whispered in awe. The entire room trembled with the energy that came off him in waves. “Where did you find it?” he demanded.
“Underwater.”
Cronan grabbed it from his hand like a greedy child, and golden light spilled between his fingers. The threads uncurled, as if reunited with an old friend. Instantly, they shot into his skin. Only one remained visible, pressed against his palm.
He turned to Grim with pure satisfaction splashed across his face. “Now all I need is the Pool of Possibilities.”
Grim just blinked at him.
“An ancient source of knowledge,” he explained. “It knows all. It has seen all. Those who are allowed to bathe within it can see every possible outcome to any choice in the past. With it, I can run through millions of scenarios to see which one would have left me with the key.” Cronan sighed deeply. The stars above seemed to breathe with him. “The pool shows us the way. The Threads of Time will help us go back and change anything needed. And the Infinite diamond...it will give us the amplification of power to shape the universe to our will.”
Grim didn’t know how to feel. The world had been cruel to him, that was certain. Did it matter to him if it ended, beyond the survival of his own people? He wasn’t sure. As he watched Cronan revel in his power, he didn’t know if he cared enough to stop him.
His entire life, he had been weighed down by duty and the fierce need for his realm to survive. Beyond care for his people...there was a void within him. He had the strangest feeling that something had been there once, something else worth fighting for.
Cronan wanted his line to continue on, for his legacy to be unstoppable. It was another way of making himself eternal. Yet Cronan was alone. Unfeeling. He had nothing truly to livefor, simply the desire to gain as much power as possible. It seemed like a sad existence.
His head snapped toward Grim. “I think it’s time for a little reunion. Bring in the Wildling.”
ISLA
Isla woke up shivering. She was soaking wet, dripping onto a familiar cold stone floor. Her eyes flew open—
And met Lark’s, across the dark cell.
“Interesting how history repeats itself, little Wildling,” she croaked, smirking. Isla blinked, frowning at the soreness of her muscles and bones. “I watched your husband throw you in here like you were no more than a sack of grain.”
Isla swallowed, pain flaring again. It all came rushing back. Nearly defeating Cronan. Summoning Grim. Then...what had happened afterward.
Isla remembered dueling Grim in the forest...and being pulled into a portal...but nothing after that. She must have passed out. Grim easily could have killed her then...
Why hadn’t he?
Isla tried not to cling to the hope of what that might mean. Especially as Lark said smugly, “He’s just keeping you alive for leverage. It’s obvious. Then he’ll be back to finish the job.”
“And that will make you happy?” Isla snapped. “Your heir, dying? Cronan, winning?”
Lark gave her a withering look. “The day you die is when I’ll feel my last shred of happiness.” She scowled. “The only death that would make me happier would be his.”
Her ancestor leaned forward, but Isla still couldn’t fully see her in the darkness. “So, now that yourhusband”—she spat the word withutter disdain—“doesn’t remember you...I imagine you regret everything.”
No. Isla had to have faith that everything would be righted in the end, and that they would find their way back to each other. She clutched the necklace with her cold fingers. The fact that he didn’t remember their memories didn’t make them any less real. Loving Grim had changed her, and that was all the proof she needed. He pushed her to be stronger, never treating her like she was made of glass. He never flinched away from even her darkest parts.
She couldn’t lose hope. He hadn’t killed her. And that had to mean something.
It wasn’t long before Grim was in front of the cell again. A million moments hung between them, like stars strung on their own galaxy, a constellation of memories. But he just looked at her like she was nothing. Lark laughed, a bitter croaking sound that echoed through the cell, as he opened the door and dragged Isla out.
There was no affection in his touch. His grip was punishing. He barely spared her a glance.
