No, no, no, no.
This can’t be happening again.
I’m ready to die. It’s right that I die, but not like this. Shoot me in the head, cut my throat, strangle the life from my veins. But not this. Not the way my father went. Not knowing that Mackenzie is going to go out there and drag my princes back into my empire.
If she gets her claws into them, they’ll never be free of her.
Too late, I see how stupid I am to let go. I haven’t set my princes free of me.
I’ve doomed them.
I try to fight, but my brain can’t make my limbs move. I draw up the images of their faces again, letting the love I feel for Noah, Gabe, and Eli swell inside me, focusing all that love on balling my fingers into a fist. And I do it! I do it! My fingers curl up, and I’ve got a fist that I can pummel against the wood, if only I can move my arm. But there are scraping sounds and faint voices. They’re preparing to lower my coffin into the grave Antony dug.
They’re going to bury me alive.
Again.
“Help, help,” I cry out, but I know my voice is only in my head. “Please, Gabe, Noah, Eli, I love you.”
I can’t die in here like this. I can’t I can’t I can’t—
The terror is so raw and hot and real. It’s not even about my horrible impending death. It’s terror for the people I love.
She’s taken my sight, my body, my ability to fight back. And now she’s going to take my family.
And I never would have fallen into her trap if I’d listened to Eli. If I’d paid attention.
I’m the tiny bird pulling out my own feathers so I can squeeze through the bars of the cage. And all this time, the door was fucking open. I wasfree. I had love that poets would envy, and I threw it away because of my own stubborn pride. And now I was going to drown in a cage of my own making.
I’ll never see them again. I’ll never be able to tell them how much I love them. I’ll never be able to bury my face in Eli’s golden hair and tell him how much I needed to hear that shit he said, even though I hated it at the time. I never should have accused him of betraying me when all he was trying to do was make mesee.
I know what real betrayal is.
I know what real love is.
The coffin rocks dangerously, slamming my head into the walls. I have no control over my body, can’t even throw up my hands to protect my face. I hear the creak of wood and a thumping noise, and then I’m hurled against the lid.
The coffin slams into a hard surface and drops again. My neck snaps back, dancing white stars across my vision. My stomach lurches and I throw up, the puke bouncing back and splattering across my face.
I land facedown in a pile of my own vomit, the coffin wood splintered around me. A faint stream of light burns through the crack.
What happened?
I can’t lift my head, can’t get a better view of what’s going on out there. I can hear footsteps, scuffling, thuds and thumps. I focus every atom of my body into my eyes, trying to clear the haze in my mind so I can interpret the shadows dancing on the other side of the damaged coffin.
Something flies from high up on the wall – from the entrance to the tunnel – and lands hard on a large lump near me that I assume is Antony. My cousin cries out as he falls hard, sliding into the grave he dug for me. The shape on top of him reels up, and familiar golden head flashes across the hole as the figure pulls back a fist, slamming it into Antony’s face.
Eli.
Eli’s here?
Of course he’s not here.I’m in worse shape than I thought if I’m hallucinating things. Because it really truly looks like my Golden Boy pummeling Antony’s face until it’s a mess of blood and bone.
“Where’s Claudia?” the Eli-hallucination yells in Antony’s face. “What did you do to her?”
Eli’s voice breaks something inside me. I don’t care if he’s a hallucination. If this is my last moment on earth before oxygen deprivation pulls me into an eternal sleep, then I want my Golden Boy with me. Even though it’s not real, I can die with a smile believing that I was loved.
The coffin shakes again. A board above my head flies away, spinning through the air. Rough hands reach inside, shaking my numb body. I’m dimly aware of my limbs wobbling, my neck snapping back and forth.
