She was the one who would either stop him or fail.
Of course, that didn’t explain her dreams. In them,shewas the one who wielded the axe, the ice princess with a deep-seated rage. But perhaps those had been nothing more than figments of her own imagination, or ways for the Ruin to trick her into believing his mistaken beliefs.
Whatever it was, she’d moved past it now. She knew what she had to do.
Two streets past the battle, Lorcan finally lowered Reyna back onto her feet. She took a few unsteady breaths, her head spinning. Somehow, her heart still beat. She still breathed. She could still move her legs. In truth, she should have been dead by now.
Footsteps thundered through the city. By now, the wood fae army would have been alerted of the battle raging in the square. Soon, warriors would stream through the streets, blocking the path to the castle. If she and Lorcan were going to make it there alive, they would have to be quick.
“I don’t like this,” he murmured as he pulled her into the shadows of a nearby alley. Reyna knew he did not mean the fighting.
“I can’t say I like it either, Lorcan, but it’s what I have to do.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I think it’s what I’ve been meant to do my entire life.”
There had to be a reason the Ruin had dogged her all her life, a reason it had locked its gaze on her instead of on anyone else. It had interpreted the visions poorly, same as she had. Now, she knew the truth of it all. She had a role to fulfill.
“There must be something else we can do.” He pulled her to his armored chest, and she could feel the steady thump of his heart against her cheek. She breathed him in. Leather. Smoke. Steel. It was her favorite scent in the entire world. “This feels too much like the end of everything.”
“Not everything,” she whispered as a tear slipped down her cheek. Just her.
Suddenly, her deal with Seelie made horrible, twisted sense. The god of light had been testing her, just like she’d always thought. But for a different reason than she’d ever anticipated. Seelie had wanted to know if she would do the right thing when the time came for her to finally face the Namhaid. Would she cower away from her fate or would she embrace it? Could she find it within herself to do the one thing she knew would destroy her if it meant the world could be saved?
Seelie hadn’t forced her to part with Lorcan. He’d never been controlling their separation. None of it had been a punishment for accepting his power. It was theresultof it. This was always going to lead her down one path: the day she had to use the Ruin against the wood king.
It would be the thing that would part them forever. Because she didn’t think she would survive it.
Shut up, the Ruin hissed.Stop thinking these things. You are the Namhaid, Reyna Darragh. You’re the destroyer, not the savior. You are meant to end the world, not save it like you think. You’re terrible and wicked and cruel. You are—
“Except I’m not,” she said out loud, no longer concerned if Lorcan heard her talking to herself. She pulled herself out of his arms and stood a little straighter, fighting tooth and nail against the weariness trying to knock her down. “I’ve made mistakes. I’m not perfect. But I’m not the fae you say I am.”
Your mind will be twisted by Unseelie.
“You’re wrong,” she said, fisting her hands. “I’ve stared Unseelie in the face, and here I am. I’m nothing like what you’ve said I’d become, but you know who is? Ulaid Molt. He feasts on blood and bone. Unseelie’s power fuels him and his warriors. They’re ripping this city to shreds, and then they’ll move on to the rest of the continent. The other kingdoms will fall, and then what? Will he stop there?Heis the Namhaid. You’ve been wrong this entire time.”
NO.The Ruin shouted the word. It rang in her head so loud that she winced, covering her ears. And then suddenly, he fell silent. She could feel his rage churning beneath her skin, alive and writhing like a thousand snakes, but his words had vanished like wraiths.
Lorcan frowned, running his hands up and down her bare arms, like he was desperately trying to keep her warm. “What’s it saying?”
“It doesn’t believe me,” she muttered. “The Ruin is an imperfect magic created by an imperfect Fomorian. Logic isn’t its strong point. Destruction is.”
His frown deepened. “What if it refuses to attack the wood king?”
Reyna’s heart pulsed. Would it? She’d never seen the Ruin spare anyone. That was the one thing she’d always been able to count on with its magic. Wherever it went, nothing would survive.
You’re wrong. I spared those children, it whispered.
Those children. “In the Ice Court village? Didn’t they survive by hiding from you?”
They stared me in the face and begged me not to kill them. I saw them for what they were. Innocents.
“But then…” Frustration poured through Reyna’s heart. “Why do you kill everything else? You’ve never spared children before.”
Because…sometimes I cannot see who is who.The Ruin’s voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper.Sometimes, I see nothing more than silver. When they stood amidst my storm and stared up into my face, I could see that they weren’t you.
“So, youcanreason.” She fisted her hands. “Which means that you can understand that I am not—”
The Ruin roared. It screamed into her mind until its voice broke, shattering like ice glass. The writhing beneath her skin ceased. All went calm and still. Her hands shaking, she clutched onto Lorcan’s strong shoulders and peered up at him.
“It’s angry. We need to go now before…”
