Her fingers curled so hard into her palms, her nails broke her skin.
And suddenly the image of herself atop Ydren was back, every soul and wyvern in the same place as before,the sounds of war reaching her over the roaring water again.
This was real. But… so were the other images.
Even the one right now—the one where she looked like the dark queen the gods didn’t want.
Lessia moved her eyes to Auphore’s apologetic ones.
What was it he had said?
To forge a new path, you must leave what you know behind: shed it like snakes shed their skin in the summer, or wake up from it, wake up from what you thought was a nightmare, and realize it was true all along—but that not everything unknown is evil.
Wake up.
She needed to wake up and realize… it had all been true all along.
Aixle’s words followed Auphore’s.
Sometimes we must accept what our reflection tells us… even if that reflection is one of shadows and darkness and a life we’ve never wished for.
The memory of that thing possessing Kerym flashed in her mind, and what he’d told her right before he’d told her the gods had warped their own gifts.Your mate was right when he once told you magic is but a power to be molded by its wielder. It’s a gift from your soul. From the earth. From darkness and light. From the source you need. A gift that you should cherish and respect. Don’t fear it, child.
Do not fear it. Her lips parted, and when Lessia stared at Merrick’s parents next, she knew why they’d asked her to find the one who clung to life.
Five queens. There must be five queens awakened to save them all.
They hadn’t asked her to go to wake another queen.They’d asked her to find another queen to realize… she hadn’t awoken herself.
Her eyes burned into her golden ones before her, the warm sensation going through her like it always did when she compelled someone, and she wasn’t sure if she spoke out loud as she forced herself to admit:
She was half Fae.
She was half human.
She was the daughter of two amazing parents, and the niece of an evil king.
She was the mate and wife of Merrick.
She was enough.
She was accepted.
She was loved.
And if she must be queen?
Then she would become a queen.
Power surged within her, flying through her bonds, and she could feel every single one of the souls—dead and alive—tethered to her so fiercely that she started atop the violet wyvern. But she didn’t hesitate as she felt her friends—the strongest links, sealed within her heart and soul even without a formal bond—and somehow, Lessia forced them back, until one by one, the shadows behind her disappeared.
Raine first.
Then Amalise.
Zaddock.
Ardow.
