Page 49 of Devoured

What are they doing in there?

Fingers shaking, I move to peer inside the keyhole. My pulse races, and the harder the woman cries, the harder my bones tremble.

“Vanessa, darling!”

I startle and almost piss myself from fear.

Cora appears behind me with a twisted grin bright on her lips. She sets a firm hand on my shoulder and positions me away from that door, spinning me back toward the Great Hall. “I’m so glad you’re here. I hope you haven’t thought I’ve forgotten about you in all the revelry.” Her hand shifts to a lock of my hair, and she twirls it around her finger almost affectionately. “What with one thing and another, we haven’t had a chance to really connect. Again,” she adds with a sly grin.

Connect. From anyone else, it wouldn’t sound so insidious, but this is Cora. The last time I saw her, her claws were dripping with blood. “You’ve been so busy. I haven’t wanted to intrude.” She continues to twirl my hair, smiling down at me with those horrible black eyes, and I can’t stifle the anger, the pure revulsion, suddenly thundering in my chest. “How are your wolves, Cora? You must be worried sick.” I glance pointedly at the werewolf carrying a three-tiered berry tart into the Great Hall. “Have any of them woken up yet?”

She tugs my hair, rolling her eyes slightly. “Oh, who cares about them? Look around, Vanessa. Our court is thriving.”

For just an instant, I imagine seizing her wrist. Breaking it. What would happen? If I were to unleash my claws right now—plunge them into her hateful chest—would this all be over? Would it just… end?

Cora grins wider.

“Go on,” she purrs, “I can see what you’re thinking—it’s all in those pretty purple eyes of yours. You remember, don’t you, how it felt when you looked into the man’s? Use your powers, darling. Even better—use them on me. I dare you.”

Our gazes lock, clash. Dread pricks my spine as I realize this is what she wants—not for me to kill her, but for me to know I can’t do it without her. She holds my secrets, my very existence, in her hands.

“That said,” Cora continues, “if you erase me, you’d erase Sin, perhaps my sister, perhaps Calix, perhaps even this very castle. You might even end up erasing yourself. Who knows what my existence has affected? Your powers are uncontrollable. Topple the wrong domino, and perhaps the entire world will come crumbling down. Quite finnicky, isn’t it?”

Yes, I think suddenly, roughly. But I jerk away from her hand as if I’m not afraid at all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never dream of harming you, Your Majesty.”

Cora pats my cheek with more force than necessary, condescension dripping from her words. “Of course you wouldn’t, sweet, darling Vanessa. I bet you haven’t even wondered about your powers, other than praying I won’t make you use them again.” She licks her teeth. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Before I can lie to her, before I can leave, Amethyst rounds the corner, her golden eyes wide, panicked. Two werewolves I don’t recognize follow hard at her heels. “Cora! Your—Your Majesty!” She skids to a halt in front of us, out of breath.

Cora turns away from me almost reluctantly. “Yes? What is it?”

Amethyst struggles to speak, shaking her head. “The—the forest—it’s—”

“It’s what?” Cora snaps her fingers impatiently. “Out with it. The Duchess of Cameroon will be arriving any minute now, and I don’t have time for dramatics. You”—she points to the wolf on Amethyst’s right—“speak.”

The young man steps forward with a shaky exhale. He doesn’t meet anyone’s gaze, staring at his boots. “Your Majesty, the forest is… gone. It’s gone.”

I blink at him. “What do you mean gone?”

“The Realm of Superiority forest,” he clarifies, though that wasn’t part of my confusion.

Cora stands rigid as Amethyst rushes to explain: “Some of the werewolves were pacing the perimeter, and it closed. It—it just closed on them like there was an invisible wall tightening, and they couldn’t get back to us fast enough, and then it… it slammed shut with them still inside. We can’t find them. There is no forest anymore. They’re gone,” she repeats on a strangled cry.

Cora tilts her head as if in an attempt to process this information. Then—“Show me.”

I follow as they stalk down the hall. Sin never mentioned that the realm could close on a whim—and how does a forest close at all? Sure enough, however, when we push through the nearest exit, the mundane scents of salt and sweat and sea assault our senses.

The forest has indeed vanished, leaving behind a brittle lawn, a paved road with cars speeding past in the far distance. One honks at another, and though the sound is faint, it’s still jarring. Out of place, but so familiar I can feel it in my bones. The site of the massacre—all the blood, all the death—has been wiped clean, replaced by the human world.

Replaced by my home. St. Augustine.

A cry lodges in my throat as I turn to stare in the direction of my old life. My dad is out there somewhere. My old school, my old house.

Celeste’s grave.

Cora’s lip curls. “What about the other portals? What about the beach?”

“Still intact,” Amethyst says. “But the others are afraid to patrol them now. What if they close too?”