Every moment, every word…it was never about leaving me. It was about choosing me.
The stubborn idiot had never chosen power. Never the crown.
His choice had always been…
Me.
A laugh bubbled up, broken and wet, as I shook my head, heart cracking open. The ground swallowed my mate. The earth sealed shut.
And it was over.
I turned back to my siblings, eyes burning with tears but spirit strangely still.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m—”
I never got to finish.
Because a giant hand tore out of the ground and dragged me screaming into a deeper Hell.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Melinda Thymes
Faye
The first thing I saw when my eyes opened was a golden ceiling and a massive crystallized chandelier. Somewhere nearby, I heard the trickle of water, and a wondrous energy danced across my skin—like a long-overdue greeting. A gentle, radiant embrace.
I hadn’t felt this harmony in so long. The kind that flowed through my bones and made everything feel light again.
Immediately, I lifted my hand and studied my fingers.
My light.
Tears blurred my vision, sliding into my hair. My skin was no longer wrinkled. The long beige dress I’d worn for so long was gone. In its place: light, gilded flesh. I shimmered like my brothers and sisters again.
I touched my cheek, then rose. Three figures stood nearby—the ones who had plucked me from Hell and brought me home.
One of them smiled.
“Welcome home.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, pushing aside a golden silk sheet and standing.
A flicker of something not-gold caught my eye. I turned toward the males quickly. Well. I couldn’t say I was surprised.
I laced my hands in front of me, studying the small dim glow in the center of each of their chests.
Home is different for everyone.
They would understand soon enough where they belonged.
Then I remembered why I was returned.
My skin went clammy.
“The Reapers…”
“It’s over,” one said gently.
