“This won’t be the last time we see each other.” It was a promise as much to myself as it was to him. Slowly, I pushed up on my toes and brushed a kiss against his lips. He remained uncharacteristically stiff, almost as if he didn’t trust himself to move.
As I lowered myself back down on my heels, my skin prickled again. Another huge spike of essence was flaring somewhere in the woods—too close for comfort. Octavian must have felt it too, because he finally moved.
“Someone’s near,” he rumbled, suddenly the warrior once more. He scanned the trees on all sides before his eyes snapped to Alastor. “If it’s Mordren—”
“It doesn’t matter who it is,” Alastor interrupted. “Marigold will be gone by the time they reach us.”
Octavian didn’t answer. But I could see the question in his eyes—even now, part of him still wondered if his brother had intended to take Mordren’s bargain.
“I came here of my own free will,” I told Octavian. “To make a bridge and go home. Before that, I offered to give myself to Mordren so that one of you might get your powers back, but both your brothers refused to even consider it.”
Surprise flashed in Octavian’s eyes, but his shoulders loosened.
The golden orb of light was larger now, almost big enough for me to squeeze through. I could feel its insistent tug on my skin, calling me home.
I glanced back at the brothers. Both were watching me, despite the ever-nearing howls of the vulgen.
“If Radven—” I cut myself off, not even wanting to suggest the possibility that he’d fallen. “Tell Radven goodbye for me. And—”
There was another huge surge of essence, much closer than before. Even Octavian jumped.
“Go.Now,” he told me. To his brother, he said, “We need to lead them away from here. Buy her some time to get through and close the bridge from the other side.”
Now that this was happening, it all felt too quick. Alastor turned back to me, pressing the Safarian pearls into my hand. I started to protest, but he gave a sharp shake of his head.
“You might need them,” was all he said.
I hadn’t noticed until this moment, but there was still a flower petal tangled in his dark hair, a remnant from the circle of blossoms I’d put on his head hours ago. I reached up and plucked it out.
“Looks like you still have a piece of your crown,” I said with a sad smile, placing it in his palm. “You should keep it safe.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t clap back with something surly. He just looked at me with those dark, unreadable eyes and said, in his usual flat tone, “Take care of yourself, Marigold.”
“We need to go.” Octavian was on high alert, but when his eyes met mine again, something flashed in them.
In a single stride, he was in front of me. Grabbing me. His lips crashed down on mine in one desperate, final kiss that stole the breath from me.
But it ended as abruptly as it began. When he pulled back, his eyes burned into mine.
“This isn’t forever,” I reminded him again—but I could already feel the lump rising in my throat. There was a terrible finality to this, a sense that when I crossed the bridge this time, it wouldn’t be so easy to find my way back.
I can’t think like that, I told myself. I had to believe I would see these brothers again. That this wasn’t the end.
A loudcrack!cut through the air, at the same moment I felt another spike of essence, and even with the pearls now clutched in my hand I knew this was bad. If Mordren had come for me—
I didn’t get the chance to finish that thought. Octavian shoved me—hard—through the portal, and I was swallowed by golden light.
49
Homecoming
Itumbledbutt-firstontothe grungy taupe carpet of my apartment, missing the coffee table by inches.
In seconds I was on my feet again, reaching for the golden circle of light that had spit me here, but it was already shrinking, folding in on itself.
“Wait!” I said, reaching inside myself for whatever power I’d used to open it in the first place. But it didn’t listen to me. The portal just kept getting smaller and smaller, giving me no glimpse as to what might be happening on the other side.
Octavian and Alastor—and Radven, if by some miracle he was still alive—were probably fighting for their lives. Not only did they have a pack of vulgen to contend with, but also whoever—orwhatever—had been causing those increasingly large spikes of essence nearby.
