Alice grabbed the gold quiver of arrows, slinging it across her back like she’d done it a thousand times. She looked even more like one of my men, especially Archer.
But could she shoot? And would Grump let her keep it?
My stomach churned. I could already picture his face—the fury, the disbelief, the betrayal. He’d see this as a challenge. An insult. And Alice would stand her ground because that’s who she was.
Which meant I’d be standing between them. Again.
I flexed my hands. They were still trembling. The memories had hollowed me out, left me running on fumes. If Grump came at her—if I had to fight him?—
I shoved the thought down.
“I thought I heard singing from this.” Alice turned the bow over in her hands, her eyes wide with wonder. “Is that what’s supposed to happen?”
I stared at her. She'd found it. Just like that. “Yeah. It is.”
She scowled. “You don’t look happy.”
Happy? I was stunned. Proud. This woman had done in minutes what others couldn't do in lifetimes. I stretched out my arm. “Can I see it?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
The moment her fingers released the bow and mine closed around it, my arm nearly ripped from its socket. The weight slammed through me—impossible, crushing—and my kneesbuckled. I hit the ground hard, the bow pinning my hand to the stone.
It didn’t want me. It never had.
But it wantedher.
The cavern wall shimmered.
No. Not now.
Grump stepped through, and my heart dropped to my stomach. Of all the moments…of all the ways this could have gone…
Alice was at my side in an instant. “Darius. What happened?” She lifted the bow with one hand, effortlessly, like it weighed nothing at all. Her other hand gripped my arm. “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer. My eyes were locked on Grump.
He’d frozen mid-stride. His gaze moved from me—on the ground, gasping, useless—to Alice. To the bow in her hand. His father’s bow. The one he’d protected like a sacred relic. The one that had rejected every single one of us.
The color drained from his face. Then flooded back, dark and dangerous.
“Has a weapon...” He had started to say as he entered, but then his voice died in his throat. Something fractured behind his eyes—grief, maybe, or betrayal—before anger swallowed it whole. His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists.
“Darius.” My name came out like a blade. “What are you doing?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came. What could I possibly say? Your father’s bow chose her. The outsider. The one you don’t trust.
This was about to get ugly.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alice
Darius struggled to push himself up, his arms shaking, his face pale. He shifted in front of me even from the ground—still trying to protect me when he could barely move.
My pulse hammered in my throat. I didn’t understand. The bow had been light as air in my hand. Why had it slammed him to his knees like he was nothing?
I set the bow down slowly onto the ground, carefully, as if it might explode.
