Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
Seven
I’ve never seen something so beautiful.
Crymson stands before us in all her glory, the same, but not.
Before, she was beautiful, of course. Everything about Crymson is perfect, but now, she feels ethereal.
Power rolls off her in waves as she stands before us, bloody and strong.
Her bright red hair flutters around her small frame despite the dirt and leaves trapped there.
She’s different now, changed, like me. I can feel a kinship between us, but it’s vastly different. Unique. Just like Crymson.
No one moves. Even the Dead stop fighting, pausing to look at Crymson and their Dead Queen. But I’m not shellshocked by the sight of the strange Queen like the others are. She’s not my mother. But Crymson is mine, and she’s all I care about right now.
“Crymson?” I say, stepping forward.
She turns glowing eyes to me, and my hair stands on end.