Ophelia
Kakias’s threathung in the air between us.Now, you die.
Her words had been calm—the power she’d adapted engulfing her until her countenance was lethal ice.
And those serenely bloodthirsty eyes had one goal:me.
The only way to ensure her immortality stuck was to eliminate the key to her unnatural existence. Because all magic had a loophole, a scale to balance, and I was hers.
Her power released its hold on me, and I staggered to my feet. Black spots were starting to cloud my vision, speckling the sides.
My body was wrung out, exhausted.
But a small, curious piece of me was in awe of the impossible ritual I’d witnessed. A queen halfway to immortality thanks to some thread of power that I hadn’t even known resided in me.
It finally made sense. Her motivation for the war—it wasn’t only to grasp the Revered’s power, though that was what she’d told Lucidius. It was to isolate theChosen—the blood she needed for her ritual—and steal that power for her own. She’d oppress the entire Mystique population if that was what it took, all because she’d traded the shred of herself that would feel remorse for such a thing.
The dark power built within her, ebbing off her body like trails of ghostly shadow. The twining black tendrils reached around her like roots, reminding me of?—
“You planted the Curse in the Mystiques, didn’t you?” I gasped, lungs clenching as they fought to keep sucking down air.
Kakias’s wicked smile was answer enough. There was no sorcia. The sorceresses in the Northern Isles didn’t interfere as we’d been told. That was only another one of her lies to sow discord.
“You learned how to cast it through your deals with the dark pools.”
I’d always wondered what the Engrossians had offered the impartial sorcias in order to lure them to their side, but it had been a cover for Kakias’s schemes.
“There are endless possibilities if you’re willing to sacrifice, Ophelia.” Her sneer twisted my gut.
“Was there more of a reason to it, though?” I cradled my injured arm against my chest. The warm crimson stained my dress, pooling in the crook of my elbow. “The Curse—it?—”
“It was created to target Mystique blood and would not touch those who contained what I needed. When your family was never tainted, I had my suspicions.”
“But IwasCursed.” Or at least to her—and everyone around me—it looked real.
“I admit, that did give me doubts. I knew it couldn’t be my own, though. I’d lifted it after the treaty. After Malakai handed himself over, and I knew it was you I needed.” She crossed closer to me, tipping my chin back. I was too weak to fight her. “And once I saw you for myself, I was certain. Those eyes of yours are rather distinct…”
“Mother!” A voice carried clear across the chamber, a shadow appearing in the doorway.
Barrett.
Chest heaving slightly as though he’d run here, the Engrossian prince strode into the room. His curls were tame, his clothes not too battle worn. Only a small cut lined his high cheekbone, already healing over.
As he approached, the rings on his fingers reflected the moonlight. His eyes, though—those were darkened aggression.
The queen stiffened as her son came closer, but she quickly fell back into her facade of disinterest. Her lip curled when she spoke. “The rat has come out of his gilded cage.”
Barrett barked a laugh. “Please, Mother. The only cage I’ve ever been kept in was the one you held the key to.” His eyes flitted overme, over the blood still trickling from my wound. Catching the heaviness of my eyelids. “Let her go.”
“Why would I do such a thing?” Her gaze shifted between us.
“Killing Ophelia will not give you what you want.” Barrett stepped closer to me. Though my heart pounded behind my ribs, there was a twinge of comfort now that I wasn’t alone. The spots in my vision expanded.
“You know nothing of what’s going on here. Killing her”—Kakias grasped my jaw—“will give meeverythingI have ever wanted.”
“Do you hear that battle raging down below?” He paused, the echoes trailing up to us. “I’ve been living here for over a month now, Mother. I’ve seen how these people respect her. How they honor her. If you kill Ophelia Alabath, the entire Mystique population will rise up against you. And I promise you, their vengeance will be your downfall.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest at the certainty behind Barrett’s words. At his steadfast belief in me, his mother’s greatest enemy.
