My heart shattered as the mirror revealed Rose and another woman—someone I didn't recognize—wrapped so tightly in those murderous vines that I could barely make out their faces. Rose's skin had turned an alarming shade of gray, and fresh blood seeped through the thorns that pierced her arms and legs.The metallic smell seemed to reach me even through the magical reflection.
But it was the empty spaces that made terror race through my veins like wildfire. I scanned every shadow, every corner, every fallen beam and broken pew. "Where's Enzo?" I whispered, my voice breaking.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
If I did, they would use my vulnerability against me.
My hands trembled as I gripped the chair arms, my nails digging so deep into the velvet the fabric tore. Where was he? The questions hammered against my skull with increasing desperation. What had Marsha done to him? Was he hurt? Was he?—
I couldn't even finish the thought. The possibility that something terrible had happened to him while I sat here helpless made bile rise in my throat.
The vision zeroed in on the crumbling altar. A heart-shaped dull gray stone rested on a metal setting that resembled a gnarled tree.
The queen gasped as she stepped back. “The stone. It’s dying.” She whirled around and glared at Ari. “What did your world do to it?”
Ari pressed his hand dramatically against his chest, his eyes widening with mock innocence. "I didn't do it. Keir Rankin had it. I just stole it from him." His voice took on a defensive edge as he leaned forward. "You tell me. What's wrong with it?"
Keir once again. My stomach twisted with a sick realization. It seemed like he betrayed anyone who got close to him, leaving destruction in his wake. The thought made my blood run cold.
The queen's face contorted with pure rage, her hands clenching into fists so tight her rings cut into her fingers.
The fury radiating from her was terrifying—but familiar. I'd felt that same rage when thinking about Keir forcing Brynn towatch her parents die. Did the queen hate him as much as I was learning to? For a bizarre moment, I wondered if we had something in common: a deep, burning distrust of Keir Rankin.
When she finally spoke, venom dripped from every word. "Bastard. Just one betrayal after another with him." She began pacing like a caged animal. "The damn stone needs royal blood to reactivate it."
Ari tilted his head with amusement, that insulting smirk never leaving his lips. "If that's true, why didn't he get it from your dear brother?"
The queen whirled to face him, her eyes blazing with fury. "Isn't my brother in prison for crimes committed against the supernatural community?" Her voice rose to nearly a shriek, echoing off the stone walls.
“I see your point. So, Your Highness, it seems like if you want to save the Anchoring Obsidian stone, you’re going to have to come to my world and give it some of your own blood.”
My heart stopped. They were both wrong about whose blood they needed. The truth hit me like a sledgehammer. It wasn't the queen's blood the stone required. What if it was really Brynn's blood they needed? The rightful heir to the Whitveil throne.
The question was: did the queen know this? If she did, Brynn was in immediate danger. The queen wouldn't hesitate—she'd simply order Brynn's head cut off to extract the royal blood she needed. But if she didn't know and tried to use her own blood instead, what would happen to Brynn when the queen returned empty-handed and furious?
