Chapter 38
LEON
Irace towards Izadella, screaming her name despite knowing I will not reach her in time. The light in her eyes, so full of pain and regret, fades. Anguish shreds my soul; grief drowns me as I slam into the ground, sliding over the stone floor, and finally pulling her to me.
Tavien is on my heels, dropping to his knees next to us to pull a weeping Nueena into his arms.
I’m too late.
Izadella’s body, pierced by two iron swords, slumps in my arms.
Dead.
Blinding agony, the likes of which I have never known before, burns me alive.
No, no, no.
How does my heart still beat? How has my body not collapsed from the knowledge that she’s gone?
The crown falls off her head, gliding down her curls and I grab for it midair, the metal scorching to the touch.
It’s finally in my hand. This crown, the very object I’ve spent a century attempting to get. Limitless magic radiates off it and up my arm, the ground shaking beneath me at the loss of its wearer.
My birthright.
Everything I sought before I knew her.
Before I knew what she was to me.
My Zemra.
It means nothing to me now. Claiming the crown would mean I risk losing my own magic, and with it, any chance of bringing her back to me.
I will not allow death to take her from me, never.
I shove the crown at Nueena, needing both of my hands for what I am about to do. She gasps but takes it from me.
If anyone can handle the uncontrollable magic it holds, she can.
Tears stream down my face. “Izadella, my love, it’s going to be okay. I love you, Strawberries. I love you. I love you.” I wrap one arm around her, her blood soaking me.
I rip the swords out of Izadella’s lifeless body, and my stomach rolls with nausea. The sight and sound of metal sliding out of her will haunt me ’til the day I die. This is a living nightmare. It slices into my soul even though I know she’s dead and can’t feel it.
I tear open her destroyed gown, and a new torment burns through me, severing my soul in half.
Her chest is ruined like mine, golden enervation scars revealing just how horrendously I’ve broken her heart. Those marks on her flawless skin are proof that my lies would have taken her life.
The suffering I have caused.
I will never forgive myself.
My deceit almost took her from me forever. I should have done more to earn her trust, and we would have both lived.
Her blood coats my hands and I press my shaking palms to the exposed, bloody skin of my Zemra’s chest, shoving my healing magic into her, demanding it save her, to heal what I have so wholly broken.
She must live.
My hands glow with an ethereal radiance, and her body jerks as my magic tries to force her body to knit back together.
My vision blurs. Every bit of magic I flow to her is agony inside me, like my body is being ripped apart with the sudden loss of so much of myself, but I will give it all to bring her back, no matter what it takes.
If I have to pass from this world to give her life again, then so be it.
My body sways as my healing power strikes her chest like lightning, flooding her body with its restorative light over and over again. Her stomach and chest gleam bright out of the places where the swords tore through her.
Every second she doesn’t breathe is torturous.
I choke on my suffocating sorrow. The thunder in my head leaves me unable to think properly, my own magic leaking out of my enervation scars. Tears pour down my face, falling onto her bloody body.
This heartache is an execution.
I scream in rage. No matter how much of my own magic is poured into her, nothing happens.
My panic overpowers every thought in my head. My magic is sluggish, running out, but I shove it into her heart, striking it again and again with bolts until my healing magic is nearly gone. Her heart must be restarted before the magic can heal any other injuries.
Holding her lifeless body is agony. If Izadella truly dies, I will have nothing to live for.
I will follow her to the soil if I cannot save her.
My head spins, relief nearly knocks me over when her precious heartbeat returns, weak, but proof that she lives. I wipe away the blood on her stomach in time to see the light fade and her skin fuse back together, not even daring to leave a scar on her perfect chest.
Those horrid golden streaks across her body retreat back into her chest as if they were never there.
She’s alive.
Not even the grave’s merciless grip could stop me from being with her.
I pull her to my chest, burying my face in her neck. Gratitude overwhelms me with her soft breath on my skin.
I didn’t lose her.
I will never lose her again.
It will take hours for her to be fully healed, but we can take her back to the Ellovian palace. She can rest in her bed with Farren while I beg for forgiveness. I close the torn fabric of her dress as much as I can.
My last drop of healing magic swirls in my finger as I run it over her dry, peeling lips. Softness follows my touch until the skin is plump and kissable once more.
I would give anything to know my lips would be welcomed as they once were.
Tavien yells as Everett appears from outside the forge. He propels a distracted Nueena out of his way, grabbing the crown from her.
“It’s mine now!” Everett cries in delirious laughter, slamming the crown on his head.
Tavien positions Nueena behind him, his fist erupting in protective blue fire and shadows around them.
For a moment nothing happens.
Everett is out of breath; his good hand pressed to his wounds gushing at his side. The crown shifts from gold to a violent crimson, glowing angrily as if it were freshly removed from the flames of the forge behind him.
His victorious smile slips away, his face twisting in pain, and his bloody hands claw at the burning crown he should never have put on.
Blood comes out of his nose and ears; crimson tears leak from his eyes. He frantically tries to remove the crown, but it’s too late. He was a fool to think he could control the magic inside, to think such a powerful keyed item would accept him.
An unworthy, evil man who had brought harm to the crown maker’s last descendant.
He screams. His pale skin turns a sickly green, the crown shining brighter as Everett is torn apart by the crown’s magic, and I am filled with pure delight at his death. The shredded pieces of him shift into brown leaves that flutter to the floor in a pile. The crown sits on top.
His death was not painful enough, not nearly what he deserved, but at least he is dead.
Nueena moves towards it, but Tavien tries to stand in her way. “Please, don't touch it.”
Transfixed, she whispers, “It calls to me.” The ground shakes as she steps closer to it.
Tavien wraps his arms around her, dragging her back. She pulls his hands off her body, slipping out of his desperate grasp as he pleads, still attempting to pull her away from it. “We don't know what it will do to you!”
“I do,” she says in a quiet voice, looking back at him. “It will be keyed to me. It has chosen me. Trust, my love.”
He sighs, no longer trying to get in her way. “I will always trust you.”
She kneels where Everett just stood, reaching out for the crown. I rock Izadella in my arms and watch in awe as Nueena’s touch returns it to a glistening gold.
More of Grayden’s guards surround the workshop as Nueena gently places the crown atop her braids. Her eyes glow an iridescent purple, and a blast of power shatters all the glass in the room as it fits perfectly on her head.
The fire in the forge winks out.
Her voice booms, echoing into my bones, power rippling through her. “Get her out of here.”
Every part of me aches but I do not hesitate, picking up Izadella, who stirs in my arms. She opens her eyes slowly at Nueena’s voice, staring between her and me in confusion. I run towards the door, and we exit the forge, rain pouring.
Lightning flashes above us as Izadella blinks up at me, confused.
“Leon,” she whispers, affection in her eyes. She reaches up to cup my cheek. “You came for me.”
No matter the agony inside my body, my heart might burst in my chest with hope for us. “Always, my love.”
She doesn’t despise me. The relief nearly sends me to my knees.
Her gentle hand moves upward towards my hair, her fingers touching the pointed tips of my ears. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers widen and a kaleidoscope of emotions pass over her face.
She settles on anger.
“You lying, deceitful asshole!” Her voice is rough. I need to get her some water. “Go back! Take me back to Nueena.”
Guilt guts me.
The only part of me she can reach is my ear and she yanks.
Hard.
“Fae! This whole time!” She fumes.
My joy at holding her, alive and angry in my arms, causes me to laugh. I hold her tighter against my body, the rain running down, down my smiling face.
“Do not smile at me, you lying piece of—”
“You’re alive!” I shout to her over the rolling thunder and rain.
“Punish me for eternity if you wish, but you live. I thought I would never see you again, Izadella. I have so much to tell you but not now.” I tuck her even tighter against me while she thrashes, and I run over downed tree branches and through muddy puddles.
“Put me down! Nueena! NUEENA!” she yells, but she immediately coughs and tucks her arm protectively around her stomach, sending my heart plummeting.
“Stop moving, my love! You are healing. Please rest and let my magic restore you. I can’t explain everything, but I need to get you somewhere safe.”
She groans, rubbing her hand over the spot where she was stabbed, probably noticing my healing magic is still working inside her. “Leon, it hurts.”
I can sense my healing swirling inside her.
“I know. I know. I’m so sorry, Strawberries. I'm so very sorry. The damage done to your internal organs was devastating. Your body will need time to recover. It will only be painful for a little while longer.’’
“How?” is the only thing she manages to get out. Her eyes flutter closed, and her body goes limp again.
“I promise I’ll explain everything.”
The forest shakes with an explosion behind us and I whip us around.
Nueena is unimaginably high in the sky, shimmering purple light pouring out of her. Lightning flashes across the sky, followed immediately by the crash of thunder.
One of Grayden’s men jumps in front of me, his sword ready to strike. I am about to twist my back and accept his attack, but he is suddenly struck by violet lightning. There one moment, vanished the next.
Nueena is high above us, one hand pointing to where the guard had been completely obliterated.
“Thank you, Nu,” I yell.
More of Grayden’s guards enter the forest, ready to fight, unaware that their leader is dead.
Another explosion of magic rolls off her and the ground rumbles again. Some kind of shield stretches for miles at the Verge, soaring upward. Lightning flashes again, followed by screams of men who have done wicked things for their king. They swore to die for him and now they shall.
Nueena has sealed off Ellova from the rest of the world, sealing us out.
“That’s Tavien’s to deal with,” I mumble aloud, “You can hate me later if you wish, but I need you alive so I can spend a lifetime earning your trust back.”
The rain drenches us, washing the gore from her in bloody rivers. Lightning flashes and illuminates Izadella. Her long hair is tangled, and her lips are in a frown with her brows furrowed, angry with me even after she has fainted.
She has every right to be.
My stomach twists at the sight of the blasted collar still on her.
I lay Izadella gently on the moss-covered forest floor.
I take a deep breath and run my fingers over it to find some sort of lock.
I do not have my glamour ring so I cannot return to my mortal form to do this.
My fingertips blister instantly against the iron.
I grab each side, hissing at the searing pain, and pull with all my strength.
My blood slicks the metal, but I rip the collar in two.
The pieces fall to the ground, and I toss them away from her.
My hands are a burning, bloody mess. Painful, but nothing compared to the pain of tonight.
Guards shout in the distance.
Scooping her up again, I pull her tighter to my chest, offering the warmth of my body. The forest is nearly black with the storm. Every direction looks the same. Rain pours down, and Izadella’s soft breath on my neck and the movement of her chest are my only peace.
I need to get her somewhere safe.
Ellova is now protected by a glowing shield, so that direction isn’t an option. Too many guards are still in the forest. It’s tempting to bring her to Kalvorn, but she will awaken just as angry as before. I will not take her against her will like Everett did.
I fear I have already done too much. The damage I’ve caused is too permanent to risk taking her away from her home once more and adding to my list of offenses.
Best to keep her close to Nueena, even if she’s a deity in the sky now.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath to block out the rain, the thunder, the faint heartbeat of the woman I love in my arms.
I feel a sudden pull in my center and I focus on it. I’ve never felt this before but it’s there, a beacon drawing me northeast towards the mountains between Ellova and Kalvorn, past the forest. Letting that tugging feeling guide me, I push myself to follow it.
“Izadella?” As I walk, I give her a small shake, but her head just limply rolls to the side. Sighing, I adjust her to face me. She smells like herself, a light, lovely scent even the rain can’t wash away.
“I’m sorry,” I doubt she can even hear me over the rain bombarding us. The occasional roll of thunder is my only company as I trudge through the muddy forest.
With every stride, I feel that pulling in my gut growing stronger, like a moth to a flame, until the sensation that tugs at me is all-consuming. Calling me to move faster.
Dark clouds roll past to reveal patches of bright stars, but we are both soaked to the bone, and she shakes from the chill.
Trees space farther and farther apart until we reach the base of a mountain as the sun’s first rays of light arrive.
That tugging sensation has led me to the base of a mountain where a wide cave is carved into the stone.
It’s hidden and away from any danger, so I carry her over the threshold.