He wouldn’t want me to give up. But fuck, it’s so tempting. I’m so fucking tired of fighting.
“You don’t want to do this, Garvan. Allarick and I have been through this. We can?—”
“You can’t help!” Garvan’s voice roars above Erin’s. “You know nothing of what I’m going through. What is at stake for our kingdom. No one does! I’m the only one willing to do what needs to be done.”
“You’re wrong! Oziel would have saved us all. Would have saved you!” Fire ignites in my blood again, the words pouring out of me before I can stop them.
“He would have gotten us all killed! That reckless fool would have led us straight to our doom.” Garvan’s voice is eerily calm, yet the quiet fury simmering beneath his words sends a chill down my spine. His restrained anger is far more terrifying than his outbursts. “I am the only one willing to do what is necessary to save the demons.” His words aren’t just a declaration; they are a promise, a warning, and a threat all at once.
“This is not the way it works, Garvan. The Nephilim will not spare you because you bowed to their whims. You are doing nothing for your people but sending them to an early grave.” Allarick takes a step forward, keeping Erin behind him, but his face is determined, locked on Garvan’s every move.
Fear settles low in my belly, and I silently thank the higher powers that Allarick is on my side…I think. I don’t want this man as an enemy.
“Don’t get any closer!” Garvan screams.
This time, the blade at my neck cuts deep, drawing my blood. I can’t see it, but I smell it and feel warm liquid sliding down my neck. I barely feel a thing though; my adrenaline is far too high.
Allarick doesn’t listen. He takes another step closer. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Courtier. You see, this is my fight too. The Nephilim are the most dangerous enemies to my people. My battle may be over, but my war is not. I can’t let you aid them.”
“And we won’t let you hurt her.” Erin steps up next to her husband. Allarick shifts slightly so his body is angled in front of her.
Even with Allarick and Erin here, they’re too far away to reach me in time. If Garvan decides to slit my throat, nothing can stop him. Not even a kraken king and his queen. But once I’m gone, there will be nothing standing in their way. They’ll take him down without hesitation.
Maybe this is why Ender brought me here—to die so the kingdom might live. A necessary sacrifice to prevent its downfall.
Oziel would have to rule alone, but that was hisoriginal plan before I ever arrived. He might grieve me, might carry the weight of my absence, but in the end, he would be the king his demons needed. Strong and unshaken.
My death will bring salvation for him and his kingdom.
Something akin to acceptance passes through me. It is true what they say about death; once you accept it, a sense of peace overtakes you. I only have one regret. And that’s not telling Oziel how I feel about him.
“The queen’s blood will be on your hands!” Garvan yells.
And this is it. The world seems to slow down; the noises around me fade away. My eyes close, preparing for the end. For Garvan to slice the dagger through my neck, and for my blood to stain my body until death claims me. I wait…
And wait…
Then a shocked gasp pulls me back to the present. Garvan’s hold on me loosens, his dagger dropping to the ground, and I take this as my chance to pull free from him. There’s no resistance on his part, and his arms fall away from me. I manage to get a few feet away before I look back.
Garvan sways from side to side, face drained of all color. It takes me a moment to realize what I’m seeing, but sticking out of the side of his neck is a dagger. Then I notice the excessive amount of blood staining his shirt.
I think it’s done. It should be done. But then he lunges for me with his last bit of strength. I hear someone yell my name, but they are too far away.
Garvan is a dying man, but he’s not willing to leavewithout taking me with him. His body collides with mine, and we tumble to the ground in a bloody mess. His hands tighten around my neck, cutting off my oxygen, even while he chokes on his own blood.
He doesn’t want to die without taking me with him. He’s about to be thoroughly disappointed.
I thrash, doing everything I can to push him off. He’s far stronger than he appears, and heavier too. Even halfway to the grave. I manage to get my arms out from under me and grab the knife at his neck, twisting it roughly. His eyes widen, and his hands on my neck loosen enough for me to break free. I push him off me with all the strength I possess, and he stumbles back.
Garvan opens his mouth once.
Nothing but blood comes out.
He takes one step closer before falling to his knees. I’m frozen to the spot, watching this play out with morbid curiosity. For a moment, our eyes lock. There’s a flicker of sorrow in his expression before the light goes out completely. Garvan tumbles forward, dead before his body hits the ground with a final thud.
“Good work, Delmare,” Allarick’s voice comes from behind me, steady and approving. “And you too, Isabelle. Are you okay?”
I nod. Maybe. Truthfully, I’m too frazzled to know if I’m truly fine. Nothing feels okay. Garvan’s dead. My husband is a statue. My body hurts.
