Arran said something to the Dowager—something that made her flinch. In another life, I would have wanted to know what my devious mate had thought of to gain the upper hand, even if only for a moment. But I did not reach down the golden thread of our bond, nor seek out his beast’s comforting rumble.
Whatever it was, I was grateful that it kept her from resisting as Arran adjusted the chains at her wrists and ankles to bind her to the post. When he pushed away, sending the small boat clear, the Dowager’s face was once again impassive.
Arran shifted, swimming back through the water in his beast form even faster than he’d paddled. I did not ask what motivated his shift.
A wave of her hand and Lyrena set the boat and its oars aflame.
Igraine was alone.
For several heartbeats, nothing happened. I counted each one, wondering academically whether I would reach ten, ortwenty, or thirty. It did not matter. The outcome would be the same.
I made it to six before the smooth surface of the water broke.
Whether it was the same fuath who had feasted on the fauna-gifted terrestrial at my welcome feast or one of its kin hardly mattered. The claws that rose from the black water were unforgiving, clamping down on the Dowager’s wrist and severing it from her body in one jolting motion.
“How dare you?” Igraine screeched.
She’d played along with my game, waiting to see what I intended. But even though that hand would regrow, she’d had enough. She reached for her power, her remaining hand clenching and releasing as she called to the water surrounding her.
And found that it did not answer.
“A fitting end.” I’d thought long and hard about how I would punish my mother before realizing there was nothing I could do to repay her for the pain she’d wrought. But a powerful water wielder, surrounded by her weapon of choice, unable to call upon it… there was poetry to it that I’d only ever found when killing.
The Dowager’s ice blue eyes narrowed, her mouth forming a word even as her ironclad will protested against it. “How?”
A small smile turned the corners of my mouth. “Legends and prophecies are not always what they seem. You ought to know that better than anyone.” As I spoke, I heard their too-loud footsteps behind me. Despite living among us for months, the two half-humans had not mastered the fae silence.
Half-human. But also, half-witch.
I tossed a wink over my shoulder. Percival rolled his eyes. Diana squeaked. Typical.
I turned my irreverent gaze back to Igraine. “Witches are not as extinct as you taught me to believe.”
An old witch spell had bound her power. Sealed with the right combination of ingredients in her morning wine, it would not inhibit her magic forever. But it was enough, and long enough.
She began to thrash against her restraints, turning to the strength of her physical body to save her where her magic had failed. But the movements only attracted the lake’s occupants. Another massive claw emerged from the water, snapping at her remaining hand. She twisted away, just avoiding it.
Igraine did not beg for her life. She did not look to me at all. As always, she was much too preoccupied with herself to notice as the smile on my face deepened.
A better female could not have watched.
But I was more than the monster she’d made me.
Given all possible ends, I’d chosen this one for my mother, the Dowager High Queen of Annwyn. And I watched until there was not a single shred left of her to piece back together or heal.
I did not flinch when a massive, fanged fish leapt from the water, taking a deep bite from her breast before splashing back beneath the surface. Not a tremor as leeches the size of my thumb began to crawl up her body, leaving a trail of greenish slime that mingled with the rich red of her blood.
I watched as a great tentacled creature rose from the depths of the lake, wrapping its arms around her legs and sucking so hard that holes opened up in her pale flesh.
I saw the moment the shining hatred in her blue eyes went out.
I’d expected revenge to taste different. Better, maybe. For freedom to flood my pores. But my mother had taught me many things. As I finally turned my back on her, I understood one final lesson. Freedom is not something that can be given. Only taken. And I’d taken mine from her months ago.
Arran shifted back into his fae form. Lyrena stepped to my side. I took their hands, my mate and my friend, and stepped into the void.
21
EVANDER
