Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“Then I would too,” I whisper.
“Yes. And if you trek to those holy waters together and solidify your bond so that it may never be undone, so that your lives are inextricably bound together, both you and the male wearing the crown may take the throne—together but never apart. In this way, the crown and its power are worn by two but never truly divided. Having Prince Ronan’s Seelie blood on the throne along with mine would bring the courts back into balance.”
I don’t move, but I feel like I’ve been knocked back three steps.
Mab turns her gaze on Finn. “As her tethered, I trust you’ll support whatever path she chooses. I trust you’ll grant her the power she needs to follow through with her choices.”
Finn’s shoulders straighten and his jaw hardens. “Of course. It will be my honor.” When he turns, there’s a hollowness in his eyes that I haven’t seen since he told me about Isabel dying in his arms. He’s spent his entire life preparing to take that throne, and now he has to give it up to Sebastian. And he has to give me up too.
I graze my fingers across his wrist. “Finn.”
“We should go.”
“You go,” Mab says, nodding at him. “But I need to speak with my child for a moment.”
Before Finn can do anything, she waves a hand and he disappears.
I gasp.
“He’ll be there when I’m done with you.”
“What do you need?” I ask. I’m still trying to process everything she’s told me—trying to wrap my mind around what my future might look like. It’s not as if I can turn my back on this kingdom.
“You crave mortality.” She cocks her head and narrows her eyes. “Or . . . you did. You’re changing quickly. Perhaps you no longer care that you already carry the answer you hoped for.”
“Don’t speak in riddles. Tell me how to save the court.”
“Save the court. Is that what you want most? More than a short human life in your cruel mortal world?”
The question feels important. Heavy and fragile at the same time. “Saving the court is what I want most.”
She nods once, with a finality that makes me feel as if some major part of my fate has been decided. “You are not ready to rule.”
I nearly cry out in frustration but bite my lip. “I will do what I must to save the court.”
“But you will fail if you don’t accept the darkness in you. Why do you refuse it?”
“Refuse what?”
“Your shadow self.”
My breath catches. My shadow self. Images flash through my mind. The mutilated corpses of the orc guards around the fire. The bloody knife glistening in the flames. The locks of Juliana’s hair on my nightstand.
“It’s a weapon that lies in wait, and you refuse to wield it. Loving Abriella. Devoted Abriella. Caring, dutiful Abriella. There’s another side of you too. Your shadow side. And she has power. All you have to do is be willing to accept the parts of you that you pretend aren’t there. Accept the darkness, and she will wake, and she will serve you.”
“I don’t need her.”
“Yes, you do.” Mab smiles. “She holds the parts of you that are wicked. That are jealous and angry. The selfish parts that will take what you want for once.” She cocks her head and narrows her eyes as if she can see right through me. Her lips twist, and I can’t tell whether she’s amused or disgusted. “Just remember, if you think to sacrifice Prince Ronan so that you may be bonded with your tethered match, you’ll need to find another way to balance the power between the courts. Kill the queen, or watch her destroy the shadow court.”
“I won’t sacrifice him.” I shake my head. “I’m not that selfish.”
“I know,” she says, her voice turning melodious. “And so does the queen. That’s why you need your shadow self. Because she isn’t so tenderhearted. She isn’t afraid to use the tools at her disposal.”
“What tools?”
“Finnian, son of Oberon, is more powerful than his father and his father before him. You can use that power. With access to his magic, you’ll never be powerless.”
“And risk his life?”
“Loving Abriella. Devoted Abriella. Caring, dutiful Abriella,” she repeats, and there’s no missing the mocking lilt to the words. “Your court needs wicked Abriella, maleficent Abriella.”
“You have me confused with my sister. I am not goodness personified.”
“Of course not,” she says.
Just as suddenly as he disappeared, Finn reappears by my side. Gone from his expression is the reverence for this ancient ruler, and in its place is a barely restrained glare that says he has no tolerance for being separated from me.
“Go now,” she says. “The monsters have come out to play, and they would like nothing more than to destroy your portal before you can reach it.”
Horror snakes through me at the thought of being trapped here. “Can’t you protect it?”