The sound of boots crunching against the earth pulls my attention behind Garvan’s lifeless body. I lift my gaze just in time to see a tall, older man step out from behind the tree. His salt-and-pepper hair is tousled,streaks of silver standing out against the darker strands. He’s bare-chested, his toned physique on display, and clad only in dark pants that blend into the shadows. A sword hangs at his hip, its hilt well-worn, and several daggers are strapped to his belt, their metal edges catching the light.
His gaze lands on me, and he bows slowly. “Queen Isabelle, a pleasure to see you again.” The strange man knows my name. It should unnerve me, but then I remember he accompanied Allarick to the meeting with Oziel. A hand rests against my shoulder, but because I’m on edge and not paying attention to my surroundings, I nearly jump out of my skin.
“I’m sorry!” a feminine voice answers. I turn just in time to see Erin take a hesitant step back. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you knew I was behind you.”
“Why are you here?” My question comes out harshly. Angry. I don’t mean for it to be. Shame instantly heats my face. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“There’s no need to apologize, Isabelle,” Allarick says, coming up behind Erin. She leans into him at the same time he puts an arm around her waist. Not in ownership, but rather as if every moment not touching her is agony. Their love is evident and effortless. A pang of jealousy darkens my mood.
“We were already on our way to meet you. You requested to speak to my wife, and she was eager to meet you.” He smiles at Erin, and she returns it. They share a whole conversation with no words. “We tried to get into contact with Garvan, but he stopped responding to my messengers. I feared something might have happened, soI came here myself. Where I go, so does Erin. Where Erin goes, Delmare goes.”
“For the most part. Sometimes we actually do spend time apart.” Erin laughs good-naturedly.
Delmare crouches down next to Garvan’s lifeless body. He reaches for his dagger, lodged deep into his throat. “I told you Queen Hettie’s axe-throwing classes would come in handy, my king.”
“So you did,” Allarick says, amused. “Good work, old friend. However, I still don’t believe you’ll be able to beat my sister in darts.”
Delmare sighs, as if agreeing with his assessment. “Then I shall practice some more,” he says before pulling out the dagger and wiping the blood off on Garvan’s clothes.
I stare down at the fallen courtier, searching for even the faintest trace of sympathy or remorse. But there’s nothing, only a hollow indifference. He doesn’t deserve my pity. Not after what he did to our people. To Oziel.
His betrayal was calculated, ruthless, and nearly successful. And, despite his death, the curse still lingers. If I can’t find a way to cleanse the River Hel and save the demons, his treachery may claim its victory after all. Nephilim could overtake demon territory if I fail.
No fucking pressure.
“Now that we’re here, we want to help you,” Erin says, and both Allarick and Delmare nod in agreement.
“We can’t have even a single kingdom fall to the Nephilim,” Allarick says gravely, a tense silence settling over us. After a moment, he continues, “You are queen, Isabelle. I’m guessing something has happened to yourhusband, for I know he would have never let Garvan capture you. At the moment, you’re the only ruler of this kingdom, so you must decide our next move.”
Once again, no fucking pressure.
My time of giving up has passed. Allarick’s words ring true. Without Oziel here, I’m the only ruler of this kingdom. I won’t let it fall simply because giving up would be easier. It’s not what Oziel would want. Hell, it’s not whatIwant.
But the question remains—what is our next move?
As the thought takes hold, my eyes land on the roses scattered across the ground where Garvan dropped them. Their petals seem to pulse with an unseen energy. An inexplicable pull tugs at me, silent yet insistent, drawing me toward them. I don’t understand it, but resisting feels impossible. The magic calls to me. Not malicious or dark like it was for Garvan, but, rather, it carries a healing quality to it.
I inhale sharply, steeling myself. Whatever this force is, whatever it means, I know one thing: I have to follow it.
Lifting my gaze, I meet the eyes of my three new allies, a newfound determination settling over me. “I have a plan,” I say, my voice firm. “But I can’t promise it will work.”
Chapter 38
Isabelle
Delmare leaves to round up guards back at the castle. Everyone seems concerned by the fact I don’t have a fleet of guards following me wherever I go. That seems dreadfully suffocating, though I admit it would have helped out when Garvan kidnapped me and tossed me into a chest as if I were nothing but an old blanket to be discarded at will.
“I'm usually with Oziel or Garvan. Even when I walked the castle, Oziel usually knew where I was. He has a freaky connection to the castle,” I explain.
Erin seemed to understand, but Allarick didn’t look convinced that was the best choice, which is why he sent Delmare to bring back a fleet. I wonder if he fears there will be more attacks. If the River Hel isn’t cured, what will become our new reality?
As we wait for their guard to return, I take the opportunity to fill Allarick and Erin in about the roses and the start of the curse in the kingdom. But keeping my gazeon Erin for too long is nearly impossible, weighed down by the crushing secret I’m keeping from her.
Every fiber of my being screams to confess—to spill the truth about what I’ve done, but I force myself to stay silent. The warmth in her eyes only intensifies the turmoil twisting inside me, making it even harder to hold my composure.
Now isn’t the time to lose focus. We’re not safe yet.
And Oziel… Oziel is lost to me.
