Those are the same words Kara’s been preaching to me all week. How letting go is sometimes the ultimate act of love. I glance her way, and she gives me a nod. A silent acknowledgement that she understands, like she knows how much it costs me to stand beside my mate and let her walk straight into danger.
A few paces down, Jess sits in a chair the attendants brought in for her, barely holding herself upright between Brynn and Graven. I can’t imagine how hard it is for Frankie to see her like this.
The Queen sits high on the crystal dais, motioning for us to step forward when it’s our turn.
Frankie bows her head slightly. “Your Majesty, I come seeking your permission to mend the portal. The corruption is spreading fast now, and Jess is getting worse. We’re running out of time.”
The court stirs, murmurs sweeping the chambers while her words sink in. The Queen raises a hand, quieting the crowd. “I agree,” she says. “Time grows short, and that is precisely why I have summoned the witches. Their wards will shield you and improve your odds of success. They will arrive within a few days.”
Frankie’s hands tighten into fists. “We don’t have a few days. I need to go now.”
The Queen’s eyes narrow. “And what ground do we gain if you try and fail? You will wait.”
She glances at me, looking for reassurance. A part of me agrees with the Queen. It’s not just us anymore; we need to think about the twins. The thought of them anywhere near that fucking portal makes my skin crawl. The smart play is to wait, gather every advantage, take the extra days. It’s what a commander would do, what a fathershoulddo.
But her features turn from a plea to a promise. That stubborn fire in her eyes tells me there’s no changing her mind. This is the girl who faced down an overlord, who survived months of torture, who stayed strong no matter what tried to break her. She’ll do this with or without me.
I step forward, everything in me screaming not to, but I do anyway. “She won’t fail.”
Frankie’s head snaps toward me, surprise flickering across her face before a grin breaks free. It’s so bright I almost forget why I was set on stopping her in the first place. This is what my mate needs from me, what she deserves. My support.
I drag my attention back to the Queen. “She’s ready. She’s stronger than any of us give her credit for. I’ve seen what she can do. She’ll hold the portal steady.” I take a step closer, dropping my voice. “You keep her standing here while it spreads, you’re only feeding it.”
The court falls silent as the Queen’s brows draw together, clearly not used to being challenged by a demon from the Dark Realm.
I don’t look away, adding, “She was born for this.”
Frankie steps beside me now, lacing her fingers with mine, her head held high. “I’m ready.”
The Queen narrows her eyes. “You are ready when I say you're ready. If you defy my command and leave without the witches, then you go without the crown’s protection. No guard. No supplies. No sanction.”
Frankie’s stance wavers, just for a moment, like the Queen knocked the air out of her.
She’s wrong if she thinks that’ll stop us. “Then we go without them. She doesn’t need your blessing to save your realm.”
Gasps and low voices erupt throughout the chamber. Frankie squeezes my hand and lifts her chin, finding her footing again.
The Queen presses her lips into a thin line, letting the noise settle as she prepares to speak—but the floor trembles.
A low, rolling boom rises from somewhere deep beneath the castle, rattling the crystal columns. One of the smaller shards breaks loose from the ceiling and shatters against the floor as the crowd screams. I pull Frankie into my side and peer out the tall windows as another tremor hits. The ground blackens, corruption spreading across the plains. The crystal trees closest to the city are turning gray, their glow snuffed out one by one.
Frankie screams, the sound cutting straight through me, pulling me from the window. Jess’ chair is empty. Graven’s on the floor, her body limp in his arms, her head hanging back. A thin line of blood trails from the corner of her mouth.
“Jess!” Frankie screams again, but it doesn’t sound human. It nearly tears my soul apart, the bond between us snapping tight. Every ounce of her panic floods my chest until I can’t breathe. The pain claws its way beneath my ribs, shredding everything inside to get out.
Please, Gods, tell me she’s not dead.
CHAPTER 38
Frankie
She’s still in her chair, one hand gripping the armrest, the other clawing at her chest. Then her body jerks and goes slack. Graven catches her before she can hit the floor, pulling her against him. Her head falls back against his shoulder, eyes rolled back, lips parted.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The pressure in my chest is so sharp, it might split me in half. Then a scream finally rips free. “Jess!”
Suddenly I’m beside her, hands shaking hard when I press my fingers to her neck, desperate for a pulse. Come on, Jess! Come on!
Tattoos crawl up Graven’s arm, darkening when he presses a hand over her heart. The strain pulls at his muscles. He’s taking it—whatever pain is in her, dragging it into himself.
