Destroy the roses?
“Why would you need to destroy the roses?” I demand, but my question goes unanswered. Garvan doesn’t acknowledge me—whether he’s ignoring me or simply no longer sees the need to speak to me, I don’t know.
My gaze shifts to the delicate roses resting unprotected just a few feet away. A sense of urgency grips me. More than ever, I’m convinced they hold the key to thekingdom’s salvation. If only I could get my damn body to move. My hand twitches, but even that feels like a monumental task.
Garvan pays no attention to me, clearly not deeming me a threat. All my focus is getting my body to move. Slowly, I manage to scoot myself forward, inching like a worm. It’s infuriatingly slow, but at least I’m no longer stagnant.
Despite my better judgment, my gaze wanders back to Garvan just in time to see him take a vial of inky black liquid from his coat pocket and pop open the lid. It’s the same bottle he had the other night when I caught him poisoning the river during the ball.
Every movement is agony, my battered body screaming in protest with each desperate pull forward. Pain radiates, sharp and unrelenting, but I grit my teeth and push through it, refusing to give in. Tears blur my vision, yet I don’t stop. I can’t stop no matter what.
The roses lie just ahead. The petals sway gently, mocking me with their nearness. So close.Just a little more.
I sink my nails into the damp earth, clawing at the grass and dirt, summoning every last ounce of strength to drag myself forward. My fingers stretch out, trembling, the very tips just inches from the bouquet.
Then a sound cuts through the silence. A rustling in the woods behind me.
My breath catches. Garvan’s head whips around, and his eyes land on me and my proximity to the roses. Then he jerks his head up, staring at something behind me. The subtle widening of his eyes has me on alert.
I strain my neck to look behind me at whomever has made Garvan tense. Part of me hopes, though it’s impossible, that I’ll see Oziel. Even knowing I wouldn’t see my husband, I still feel a wave of devastation.
And then confusion.
A man stands in the shadows of the forest. His features are familiar, but my brain is slow to process him. His skin is dark, the color of the tree bark around him. His locs are neatly pulled back; a few specks of gold hit the light when he moves.
But I don’t stare for long because a new figure steps out from behind him. Slender. Tall. Skin only a few shades lighter than the man’s. But, unlike the man, this woman I know well, even if she has no idea who I am. My breath catches in my throat.
Then Erin Goodwin steps into the clearing and looks directly at me.
Chapter 37
Isabelle
Ifeel like I’m seeing a ghost. After so long of knowing someone from the sidelines and making up their mannerisms in my head, seeing them stand before you is like watching someone walk out of the grave. Besides, this woman looks nothing like the woman I saw in Grym Hollow. No, that Erin was meek and kept her head down, always dressing in clothes that hid her entire body from the world. Even in the midst of summer when temperatures hit well above one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, Erin always wore pants and long sleeves if she was out in public.
The woman standing before me is no longer the timid, fragile soul she once was. Her posture is poised, head held high with a quiet confidence she never possessed before. There’s a newfound strength in her presence. Steady, unshaken, and undeniable.
Her bare arms, once marred by bruises and the ghosts of past wounds, are now smooth and unblemished, a testament to her newfound freedom in Mescos.Even her face, which she used to hide behind a curtain of hair, is fully visible, radiant and untouched by the remnants of James’s wrath. She doesn’t justlookdifferent. Sheisdifferent. She looks like a queen.
Erin attempts to take another step forward, but the man behind her reaches out, grabbing her wrist before she can make it too far. His name finally reemerges in my memories. Allarick. Erin’s new husband. He says something I can’t hear because they are too far away. Erin’s brow furrows, but she nods once and stays by his side.
“The king of the sea,” Garvan hisses from behind me. His hot breath hits the side of my cheek. In my awestruck state, the demon behind me moved closer.
Garvan violently yanks me up by my hair, pain blooming in my skull. I scream as he pulls me back against his hard chest. Something sharp presses against my neck, the undeniable touch of a blade. My fucking dagger. The one Oziel gave me.
“You aren’t supposed to be here, Kraken King.”
Garvan is fully gone. Hysteria laces each word, and his body trembles as he holds me in an iron grip against him. I no longer recognize the courtier; he’s been replaced with this unhinged demon.
“Seems to me my husband and I came at the right time,” Erin says, voice unwavering.
I blink, still astonished by this woman before me. Strong. Fierce. Determined. Erin eyes me—not like she recognizes me, but more like she understands I’m not a demon. I’m human, like her.
“Garvan, you hold Oziel’s queen against her will.Only a cowardly man would use a woman as a shield.” Allarick’s deep baritone voice reverberates around us.
Garvan presses the blade harder against me. It’s so fucking sharp, already digging into my skin. Despite myself, I whimper.
“Please,” I beg, though I don’t know what I’m begging for. To let me go? To kill me and end all of this? The last few years of my life have been hell. Every day was a fight for justice, but never have I felt so powerless. Oziel’s absence has ripped my heart in two, leaving me feeling empty and lost without my husband’s strength next to me.
