“We will hunt him down and end his life. Now that the sleeping spell is broken on both families, we can fight Vintarys, Morgana, and all the Lemurias in earnest. We can shed their blood without repercussions. The mahrts will defeat the banshee clan once and for all.”
“No!”
Mother’s eyes widen. She angles her head to the side. “No? Oh, my poor girl. This is so much worse than I thought. He truly does control you now, doesn’t he?”
“That…that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
I open my mouth but my words won’t come. I can’t explain the warm fluttering in my chest, nor do I know what it means. In my mind, I know Mr. Blackwood is my enemy. I know our bargain was forced upon him and he only agreed for his own benefit.
But in my heart…
My heart can’t bear to hear any threat against Thorne.
Mother gives a sharp nod to my uncles, the same she exchanged with my father before he left. “Take her to the tower.”
45
THORNE
Three days have passed since Briony and I broke the sleeping spell, and only now can I safely say my mother and sisters survived. While the rest of my relatives—all twenty-seven who consider themselves Lemurias or members of Morgana’s banshee clan—have awoken and left the catacombs already, the three I care about most remain behind, tended to by healers. At first, I was certain they were dead. That the sleeping spell had done nothing but preserve their already-lifeless bodies. Despite my worst fears, the fae physicians assured me the iron had left their lungs over the last fifteen years of slumber and that enacting the sleeping spell was the sole reason they survived. Only this morning did my youngest sister wake. Then my eldest. Two hours ago, Morgana opened her eyes.
Thank the All of All the Lunar Court royal catacombs fall under King Franco’s care. Were Horus Briar a better king, he’d be responsible for them, for matters of death and the preservation of bodies are more traditions favored by humans and seelie fae. But if that were the case, my family would have been dead long ago. Or the physicians sent to attend them now would secretly murder them instead of help.
Stones, I’m thankful my mother and sisters woke at all. It’s my one consolation, the sole flicker of light in the otherwise dark shroud that has fallen over me. The only comfort I’ve allowed to soften the fissure in my heart and the self-hatred that has been my constant companion since I left Briony at Nocturnus Palace. But even the comfort of my family ends today. For there’s one last sacrifice I must make for the woman I love.
I stand outside my mother’s makeshift room in one of the numerous stone hallways of the catacombs, waiting for her current guest to leave. I haven’t seen or spoken to my mother since she regained consciousness, yet Trentas managed to beat me to it.
Shifting closer to the open doorway carved into the stone wall, I strain my ears to make out their conversation. Their voices are too low to catch more than a word or two.Retaliation. Revenge. Justice. Still, it’s enough to tell me that—despite breaking the curse—the feud between the Briars and the Lemurias is as strong as ever.
A dark feeling hollows out my gut. I know what I must do next, but I doubt it will put an end to the rivalry. I just hope it’s enough to secure what Briony values most. She’s my choice, and I’m seeing this through to the end. Even if it costs me everything.
Morgana and Trentas lower their voices further, but I catch my name amongst their whispered tones. I’m certain Trentas will relay everything he knows, including how I tried to thwart his attempt at taking the throne. Yet true to his word, as soon as Horus Briar showed his face, proving he was still hale and whole and in full possession of the crown, Trentas left, as did all the other factions. Now I suppose he must wait to see if the promised wedding takes place.
The thought sours my stomach. Stones, I hated saying those words to Briony, about her having no reason to reject Monty without me in the picture. I don’t know if there was any truth to what I said, but I had to twist my intent to serve the magic that would break the sleeping spell. If I didn’t state some benefit for my family, the curse wouldn’t have broken.
But I did.
And the curse did break.
Shattering my heart along with it.
Impatience ripples through me, making my wings twitch. They beg to spread out, to fly, to do anything but wait in this eerily quiet hall. I fold them tighter down my back.
It’s been strange staying in my unseelie form, not having to hide my wings or horns. I haven’t left the catacombs since arriving three days ago, so I’ve yet to glean whether my dual identities have become public knowledge yet. I’m still not certain how I’ll handle that.
The steady drip of water catches my attention, its sound drowning out the whispers I’m trying to overhear. I frown at the opposite wall where rivulets of moisture trail down the dark stone and drip from the ceiling. Such streams aren’t uncommon in the underground tunnels that comprise the catacombs, but this one’s presence is quite inconvenient. Though, if there wasn’t moisture, there wouldn’t be light, as the only source of illumination comes from the clusters of bioluminescent mushrooms sprouting from the walls.
I shift even closer to the doorway, but my shoe nudges an unseen rock, sending it skittering down the silent hall. The whispers cut off. Trentas speaks at a normal volume as he says, “It seems you have a visitor, Morgana. I’ll check in on you later.”
Footsteps sound, then Trentas emerges from the room. His eyes find mine at once, and he delivers a stern look. I’m about to brush past him when he grabs my arm. Keeping his voice low, he mutters, “Be careful what you say to her. She is just as fierce as ever, but she is still your mother and loves you dearly. Do not break her heart. Remember who you are.”
I pull back and lock my eyes with his. We’re the same height and we appear the same age. I stand tall, uncowed by his reproach, silently conveying that which I don’t say—that my respect for him will always remain, but I will not return to the role I once had. I can no longer be his subordinate, his foster son.
“I know exactly who I am,” I say, each word delivered with the unyielding strength of my resolve.
His eyes widen slightly and he releases me.
