61. Chapter 61
Chapter 61
Lea
L ea felt Alaric before she saw him—his cruel, maniacal energy radiated through the air as if his madness were contagious. It was a low hum, a rumble beneath her feet and deep inside her chest, a nausea that worked its way from her belly up her throat. The intensity of his magic was undeniable, as was the immensity. How many had he killed? she wondered.
How many people had he stolen magic from to amass such power? The thought made her sick, but she swallowed down the nausea, the taste of bile thick in her throat. Nothing could change the past, and Alaric’s actions could never be undone. But Lea could stop him from doing more damage, killing more people, but only if she stayed focused.
Lea stopped for just a second, motioning for Evangeline to stay back. She didn’t want her any closer than necessary, and hoped Evangeline could remain hidden, keeping death at bay from afar so Alaric would never even know she was there. Evangeline had urged her to reconsider her offer as Lea had stormed toward the lake, infuriated by Eudora’s incessant taunting. She’d begged Lea to allow her to take on the burden, to pay the price for holding so much magic.
But despite the temptation to agree so that she could live, Lea knew there was no world in which she could forgive herself for making that choice. She would spend the rest of her days regretting it—hating herself to her marrow. It would consume her, just as her primary magic had once threatened to do before she’d accepted it as part of her.
Her death was something she had to accept as well. She very well may leave this world by the end of her battle. The goddess had warned her that never again would the universe allow anyone to hold as much magic as Alaric. Especially not her. Not when she’d had the chance to rid Alaric of his power already and failed. Not when she was living and fighting on borrowed time.
But if her death was what it took to defeat Alaric and end his reign of terror, Lea would go beyond the veil knowing she’d done her best, and that she would be together with Gray again in the afterlife. That had to be enough.
Lea crouched down as she approached the tree line, peering into the dark, searching for the man she was here to slaughter. She tucked her shadows around herself, shielding her body from detection, praying it would be enough to keep Eudora from seeing her coming.
“Finally found me, my Little Flower?” Alaric’s voice slithered to her ears, layered with the voices of thousands of men and women whose magic he had stolen. It hit her like a stone, an electric shock to the chest that jarred her into standing. She cursed under her breath, furious at herself for letting him rattle her so easily, so quickly.
Slowly and silently, she shifted toward the voice to her right, her stomach dropping when she saw Alaric sitting atop a makeshift throne by the water’s edge. The reflection of the enormous throne, built of narrow black tree limbs and yellowing bones, danced in the water’s reflection, making it appear larger and more imposing. Lea shivered, her heart pounding hard and fast against her rib cage. She thickened her shadows, stepping forward silently as she inched closer .
“I know you’re out there in the darkness,” Alaric said, leaning forward in his chair. His head slowly tilted to the side as his gaze swept the area around him. “I can feel you, just as you can feel me.” The throne creaked as he stood and stepped off the platform onto the dead soil of the Wicked Wood. “I can smell your fear, Little Flower .”
Lea forced her breathing to remain even and silent, easing herself around the lake’s edge in an attempt to position herself behind him. He turned toward her as if he could sense her presence, and she froze, her heart dropping into her stomach as she took in Alaric’s appearance.
He looked far from weak and broken, like she’d hoped. But the description she’d heard from the villagers had been accurate—he was taller, more formidable, and somehow even more depraved than before. The veins beneath his skin were black, spreading like spiderwebs throughout his entire body.
Lea stared back, calling his bluff. Alaric couldn’t see her, not in the pitch-black night, not with her shadows around her. But still, did he know where she was?
“I dreamed of this, you know,” Alaric said, turning away from her in a slow circle, and Lea exhaled in relief. “The things I would do to you. How I would make you beg, how I would make you confess that you are weak. Vile. Disgusting. A traitor.” He spat the words, and Lea flinched. Hearing a monster say such things about her made her nauseous. After all, doesn’t it take a monster to know a monster? But in the end, it didn’t matter. She would gladly become a monster if that’s what it took to save the people she loved.
She had lied to her mate and friends—betrayed their trust. She had already made those choices, and she would do much worse if that’s what it took to defeat Alaric.
Lea crept forward again, ensuring her footsteps were silent as she kept her eyes peeled for Eudora. If anyone was likely to spot her, it would be that witch, likely searching from above with a bird’s eye view.
“I dream of it Every. Night . Little Flower,” Alaric continued, his voice dripping with contempt. He laughed—a humorless, harsh, and violent sound. “Of how I would make you bow to me. Force you to beg for my mercy.” He sighed. “We could’ve ruled together, you know.” Alaric snapped his head to his left, lowering his chin. “You and I. Finally, a king and queen equally matched. But you fell for the weaker brother,” he sneered, stalking forward with his back turned to her.
Lea drew her sword silently, gathering her power inside her chest and preparing to strike. She extended her magic forward, readying herself to take Alaric’s and praying Evangeline was able to see her from where she hid, that she could sense her intent and would help keep death away.
“But in the end, you are the weak one. Did you think yourself to be clever?” Alaric asked, twisting to his left and staring into the darkness. “Did you think you had me fooled?” He pointed into the darkness, and Lea took another step, grateful he seemed to think she was a hundred yards in the wrong direction. “I know exactly what you are. Who you are. You are nothing,” he spat, raising his arms above his head. A massive ball of fire ignited above him, rising above the trees and spreading across the sky. The heat hit her instantly, the lakeside lighting up in a bright orange glow as he spun, his eyes pinning her in place. He smiled, never blinking as he raised a finger to point in her direction.
“Found you,” he whispered, the sound scraping up her spine and making her shiver.
Lea swallowed, jutting out her chin as she tried to hide her rage. He’d known where she was all along, allowing her to creep closer as he played with her like a cat does a mouse before killing it in cold blood. But she refused to let him see her fear. Absolutely would not let him know she was rattled.
The familiar smile that haunted Lea’s dreams crept across his face, cruel and twisted, his sharp teeth gleaming in the firelight. So slowly it was unnatural, he tilted his head to the side, the angle so sharp it looked as if his neck might snap as he examined her with dark delight.
As his smile spread, so wide it looked painful, Eudora emerged from the trees—young, vibrant, and beautiful. Not a trace of the old witch Lea had known remained in her healthy, strong body. But Lea knew exactly who she was—could feel her essence as clearly as if the old, wrinkled witch she’d met in Calir were standing before her. Lea clenched her jaw, fighting back the curses begging to burst from her throat. It wouldn’t help. She wasn’t here for a verbal battle; she was here for one singular purpose.
“So angry, Little Flower,” Alaric taunted. “Are you mad?” He tilted his head the other way, then pressed a hand to his mouth, feigning shock. “Oh—is it because she betrayed you?” He cackled, throwing his head back dramatically in forced laughter before stopping abruptly and going completely silent.
In the glow of Alaric’s fire, Lea could see his eyes—eyes so black, not a scrap of color remained in his irises. She shivered.
“You’re surprised she’d work with me, aren’t you? The true king of Desia? The most powerful Fae in the world?” His volume grew as he spoke, his voice coated with a bitter edge, and Lea gripped her sword, preparing for him to strike. “You’ve always underestimated me,” he continued, his tone laced with venom. “You, Gray.” He paused. “My mother…”
Alaric snapped his fingers, and Eudora waved a hand in front of her. A haze of fog spread through the air, and Genevieve appeared out of thin air, her hands bound and her eyes wide with fear. Blood coated her face and dress, and her mouth was gagged with a thick, once-white cloth.
“How na?ve do you think I am?” Alaric roared, throwing his hands to the side and sending flames shooting into the ground at his feet. “Did you think I’d fall for your little plan? Your pathetic trap?” He enunciated each word, the P popping in a way that felt like an explosion. He gestured to his mother. “Like this bitch would ever give up on her perfect, golden son?”
Lea’s body buzzed, her feet urging her to run, to find a way to reach Genevieve and cut her free, but she couldn’t move. Could barely even breathe.
Eudora smirked, twisting a finger in the air, and Genevieve’s arms were wrenched backward. She cried out in pain, her words muffled by the gag in her mouth.
“She deserves what’s coming to her. Just as you do,” Alaric sneered, pointing at his mother while staring Lea down. “And your death will be all the sweeter, knowing you played right into my hands.”