Chapter 56
CARWYNN
The offer was . . . sweet. In a barbaric, bloodthirsty kind of way. But still sweet.
A rasp of a laugh scraped up my throat, shaking my head at the formal gesture. I pulled him up to stand.
“As tempting as that thought is—it’s not that simple. Unfortunately.” Matters of the heart never were.
Alvar studied me, then nodded. “I understand.” He silently looked at the Trefoil Castle in disapproval.
Breaking the silence, I jerked my chin toward blondie bitch.
“Who’s spider lady?”
“Witch from Hallow Land.” His eyes scorched into her as if he could burn her at the stake right then and there. “And Vinterland’s newest prisoner. She has many grave crimes to pay for.” Something in his voice twisted. An immeasurable cold, ancient, weight.
“Did—” I hesitated, unsure if now was the time. “Did she kill the Vinter King?”
“She played a large part in his disappearance.” His neon gaze pierced straight through my soul. Then whipped toward a distant corner of the gardens. “Guards are coming. I must go.”
He hoisted her limp body over his shoulder like a light rucksack.
“Wait!” I said, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in my dress. “You should work with us—with Luckland. I mean, we can figure out a way to stop the Skell King. Together.”
How? Not a freaking clue. But we needed help. And I had to try.
A large smile shot across his face. “Am I not working with you already?” An eyebrow arched up. “You’ll be at the Eostre Trials, yes?”
“Yeah , I will,” I said slowly. “How did you know—”
He gave me a telling look.
“Right. Seidr. Vision-seer,” I mumbled, circling two fingers over my throbbing temple.
“See you in Eostre Land, Carwynn,” he rumbled, adding a wink.
That accent killed me. I bit back the twitch in my lip.
His feet thudded away, louder with the added weight. But then he paused, looking back. “And Carwynn . . .”
I bit harder. Then stiffened at the look on his face. His voice dipped, hard as granite. He gestured toward the Ball. “Need I remind you—you are your own master. Make them pay.” The grin he gave me was a shot of fiendish adrenaline. An electric shock giving my soul life again.
Then, he disappeared into the night.
Cryptic bastard.
I grinned, as something oddly different curled inside me. A dark warmth glided across my skin. I felt the power awaken within. Stirring, stretching, readying.
Nice of you to finally show up, I scolded it.
It came easier than it ever had before. My skin lit with radiant wisps of light and shadow, dancing together like life and death itself. I could feel souls nearby. Their soft whispers passed through me, clear as day.
My power blasted, uncaged and cooperative. I raised my arms. The entire garden lit up like I was a beacon at its center.
Be who you were born to be . . . it whispered, that voice that wasn’t mine.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but they’ll meet the wraith within me, I answered back.
I turned toward the castle.
Dress disheveled, blood splattered, wounds freshly exposed, I glided forward.
My chin lifted, refusing to let my childhood scar—the darkest parts of me—be hidden away any longer.
I was a ghost dragged from the grave. Battered, broken, and terrifying enough to curdle blood. But I didn’t care. Not anymore. The darkness inside elated.
I reentered the ballroom. The boisterous world around came to an abrupt stop.
Gasps rippled like a wave throughout the crowd. The music screeched to a halt. One by one, people stepped back, clearing a path as if a demon was unleashed.
My hair lifted, hovering from the charge of my energy, glowing in wisps. I fixed my gaze on the one person I was looking for.
Lochlainn.
He and a few other Luckmen were crouched down, surrounding a large figure who looked as though he’d passed out or taken a tumble. Finley. A hand clutched his chest as he sat up, heaving, catching his breath.
What happened to him? The stabbing flicker of something profound twisted my ribs—but I quickly removed that blade and tried again.
Better question—did I actually care?
How odd. My worry, my concern, had been muted. I gave zero fucks seeing him so indisposed.
Lochlainn took note, rising. He strode my way, then stopped. There was a slight hitch in his breath as he took me in.
Good. Be afraid.
I held out my hand.
“Coin.” My voice was a frosted knife, commanding with serrated edges.
He carefully dipped a hand in his pocket, extending it gently to place it in my palm. His eyes didn’t leave mine. Not until they dropped to the scar at my throat, the mark of a child who was deemed not worthy enough to live.
“Are ya—” he froze as my eyes shot blades at him. He knew I didn’t want to hear any words of concern. Not from him. “Who did that to ya?” Lochlainn’s whisper turned lethal, gaze trailing my neck once more.
I tilted my head like a predator.
“Who do you think?” Then I turned and walked toward the dais.
A familiar connection prickled the back of my head. Someone watching—an asshole who could go fuck himself. I fixed my sights straight, unstoppable. Rejecting the urge to look at him.
David’s voice suddenly boomed. “Move!”
The room illuminated with a blast of light. People screeched. David’s wings appeared—radiantly splaying wide. His sword hummed with power.
Wyatt violently shoved people aside as they charged their way toward me.
“Carwynn!” David yelled, frantic, face torn with grief. “What’s happened?”
Wyatt scanned me, tracking the newly torn flesh and blood-painted gown. He paled. “She’s been attacked!” he shouted, flagging down nearby guards.
Faelad’s voice barked orders as more armed men dispersed.
I kept walking.
“I’m feeling much better now,” I said aloud to David, though, it wasn’t exactly me. The voice of something other. Stronger. “Needed to remember who I was—who I am.”
A hand reached for mine and my body recoiled.
Vines exploded from my arms, wrapping around with sprouting thorns. They pierced the flesh that grabbed me.
Finley winced, retracting. He looked ashen, as though he had just been as close to death as I had. Blood trickled from his hand. Though his eyes were more pained than the wound itself.
“Fucking fates! Are ya all right?” he said, voice raw and broken. “What—” Words halted, butchered in half.
“I told you to never touch me again!” My voice viciously cleaved through his. “Do it again, and they’ll be poison-tipped,” I spat through clenched teeth.
Finley faltered back, eyes glistening as though I’d lashed him, cutting deep. Maybe now he’d see what horror I’d become. What I was.
My throat tightened and I turned away. I couldn’t look at that face any longer. It was sweet paradise . . . laced in high radiation.
I climbed the dais, feet barely sounding on the floor.
Above, the wishing well shimmered, calling to me. Gold pulsed in my hand, growing a life of its own, coaxing me forward.
“Wait!” Breena yelled with Aine right behind her. They immediately flanked to my sides. Profound sorrow and fury etched their features, but they didn’t say a word.
David and Wyatt reached the base of the stairs.
I paused to look at them. Neither were terrified by my haunting appearance. If anything, warm eyes embraced me as they ran to the step below mine.
“Carwynn,” David’s voice broke. Tears slipped—the remnants of my shattered emotions he, no doubt, now carried. But not me, I’d vaulted them out. “Tell me what happened! Where are they?” he growled through the agony. An aura of electric energy blazed around him.
“Not now,” I said emotionless, and held up a hand. “It’s taken care of.” I knew vengeance was eating him alive.
The anger that drew in Wyatt’s brows loosened. He gave me a small, encouraging nod. “After then—when the Cherubs tend to you.” It was a gentle command but a command, nonetheless. They’d allow me this moment, but after, all paternal restraint would be untied.
And David—David saw everything. He nodded too. “Okay, ma cheri. After.” A fierceness lit his eyes—ferocious love and strength.
I ascended the stairs again, my two immovable rocks behind me.
Aine waited at the top. She reached out, taking my hand without hesitation. The vines withdrew, recognizing her immediately.
Breena clasped my other and the thorns retreated again.
The three of us stepped up to the sparkling wishing well. Iridescent light painted our bodies like sparkling armor.
“Together?” Breena asked, squeezing my hand.
“Together,” Aine said firmly.
My sedated emotions flickered, waking in an overwhelming rush. Tears pooled as I held both their hands tighter.
“Together,” I echoed with a slight tremor, but not from fear.
Maybe, just maybe, a sliver of hope had survived.
I extended a torn, blood-slicked arm. A slow, knowing smile curled my lips.
Pain transformed to power.
I opened my palm, and the world went ablaze.