“I can’t touch her heart,” Max tells me, clinging to my arm. We rock back as she throws another attempt at us. “We’ll have to fight.”
“She’s invincible.”
“No, she’s not.” Max pats my chest. We stumble with another hit. “The curse was broken. She lost the connection to the dark curse. After you died, that broke your connection to her.” She grins, a Cheshire cat with a new toy. “She’s vulnerable.”
“I know what to do.” Kissing her temple roughly, I gesture to the door. “You’re going to run as soon as I lower my magic?—”
“No—”
“And stay back.” I ignore her protest. “Aoife is mine to handle.”
Another hit slams into us and we skid backward.
Max touches my chin, chewing on her ruby lip. “What did she do to you?”
Nothing good.
“It doesn’t matter,” I reassure. “I have you. And our future to look forward to. It will not taint us.”
Her deep oceanic eyes brighten, glistening with tears. “You still want that?”
I inhale her scent, hand wrapped into her locks. She is all I’ve wanted—and it’ll be the last time anyone takes her or our future away from us.
“I want you,” I say quietly. “Just you, love. And whatever comes from that, I will gladly enjoy. Now.Go.”
Shoving her back, I drop my magic. Max listens—thank fuckingBel—and runs from the exit. Aoife’s magic detonates, but I intercept, shadowy hands barricading against the blow.
It reverberates, and my arms lock. Energy runs over my nerves, on fire and yet cool to the touch. The windows blow out around us, glass slicing my cheek and her hands.
Aoife looks at me with disgust—and maybe even sadness. I want to pluck her eyes out for it.
“She won’t love you. Not the way I will.”
“She already does.” Standing, I take the center of the room. Max stays back by the doors, hidden in the alcoves. I sigh, relieved. As long as she’s safe, I can enact my revenge. “She was ready to die for me.”
Her fists shake as she screams, “How did she break it?”
Her emotions are all over. Aoife has always been cunning and calculating, but now, her control is gone. She’s lashing out, reacting to centuries worth of grief and pain.
I can use it.
“Tell me,” I say casually. “How does it feel to lose for the third time?”
Her eyes darkened to pits of coal. They’re lifeless but full of rage.
“I haven’t lost.”
“Sure, you have. You lost Kyrin.” I tick off, holding up my fingers. I watch how she grows angrier. “You lost the war. And now, you’re losing to Max. That must be quite the hit.”
“I haven’t lost!” She throws another blast of energy and I drop, letting it wash over my back. It singes but I don’t pay it any mind. I see how she sways, uneven and beside herself.
Oslo always said remaining in control of your emotions was a way to win the battle. Aoife missed that lesson.
“What will the court think when they discover you tricked everyone?That you lied—tell me, do they know of how the king died?” Standing, I tsk in mock sympathy. “I guess it didn’t seem suspicious at the time. Having gone to sleep, never to awaken.”
Too similar to what happened to my mother. It was right in front of me the entire time.
She killed them both.
