But that doesn’t explain why she looks like me.
“What do you want?” I ask, taking a few steps back.
I glance behind me, hoping to find Louie or Ezra. Hell, I’d even take Iain at this point. But the entire forest seems to have fallen into a hushed stillness, as if time has stopped.
Oh, good. The air just got murder-silent. That’s always a great sign.
“I bring a message, Last Daughter:
When shadow entwines with flame, the thrice-born queen shall rise.
Her light blazes in the endless night, yet it must flicker and fall.
Blood shall stain the Earth, and the underborne will rise from darkness to stand as one.
She will be their voice, their fire, their reckoning,
And in her wake, the war will begin—man against monster, light against light.
Beware the velvet queen, cloaked in sweetness and shimmering stagnation,
For her bargains are struck, and the cost will be steep.
As the shadow mourns, the flame will smolder low,
And only then shall the world know the cost of salvation.
This will not be our last meeting, thrice-born warrior queen. I shall see you again … after the fire.”
“Wait! Can you repeat that so I can write it dow—”
But I never get to finish.
The wind slams into me as the Morrígan shatters, her body exploding into a storm of feathers. The treachery takes flight, spiraling back into the sky, their caws ringing in my ears.
I should go find Louie. Or Ezra. Tell them what I saw.
But the words press against my ribs, stealing the air from my lungs.
I already know how Ezra will react. He’ll growl. He’ll snarl. He’ll suffocate me with promises of violence, promises that I’m not alone.
And maybe that’s what scares me most.
He won’t stop. Not until I’m safe.
Even if that means locking me in a tower and burning the world around it.
And that?
That doesn’t fucking work for me.
Because if I’m going to save the underborne … save my family and friends?
I can’t let a silly little thing like a death prophecy get in my way.
A sharp gust of wind whips through the clearing, snapping me back to the present.
I blink, my breath hitching as I take in the silence that follows.
