EIGHTY-NINE
THE REGALS
The warlands turns to dust, and the entire army falls with it. But somehow, the Seed of Yuri manages to use his power to catch those alive—every single one—and have them land in the ocean.
The creatures burn to a crisp as sparks of red lightning break out of him, electric and pulsing. They squeal before bursting, and as badly as Hassha and Korah want to see this power pouring out of him—this energy that once belonged to their dear Yuri—they don’t take their eyes off Selah.
Hassha conjures a rope and wraps it around Selah, but she breaks loose. Korah attempts to grab her, punch her, and though she gets one strike, she misses the other.
Smirking, Selah clutches Korah by the throat. Red lightning floats past them, striking the air as the Seed of Yuri unleashes all his pain, all his anger, all his heartache.
He’s lost his mate. It was never supposed to come to this.
Hassha grips Selah’s head, trying to force her to set Korah free, but Selah doesn’t relent.
“He will prevail,” Korah chokes out behind Selah’s grip.
“But you won’t,” Selah snarls just before crushing Korah’s windpipe. Then she raises her sword and plunges it into her sister’s belly.
Korah struggles to breathe while Hassha screams from both the action and the pain.
“Good luck healing yourself,” Selah growls, clutching her own stomach.
When Selah releases her, Korah’s body drifts to Blackwater. Hassha leaves Selah to catch her.
But in their wake, Caspian bolts upward and slams into the wretched Regal.
She gasps as blood pours from her mouth, but he is relentless, locking chains around her throat, slicing her with swords, punching and kicking and roaring.
Every blow weakens her. She tries teleporting to another part of the sky, but he’s right behind her, attacking again.
He’ll have her head soon. Korah knows this. She watches from her position below as Hassha places her on a patch of grass.
“Sister,” Hassha whispers, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Heal yourself. There’s more to be done.”
Korah only smiles, raising a shaking hand to cup Hassha’s cheek. “It’s time, Hassha.”
“Not yet,” Hassha moans.
“Her blood will run cold. I cannot let that happen.” Korah forces a smile. “I tried. We tried so hard, but we both know what has to be done. We won’t succeed otherwise.”
Hassha nods, though her heart is heavy. “Yes, I know.”
“I love you, Hassha.”
Hassha leans down, pressing a warm, radiant kiss to her sister’s forehead. When Korah smiles weakly, revealing bloodstained teeth, Hassha’s tears grow thicker.
“I love you, Korah, Regal of land, water, and vegetation. Regal of beauty with the most tender of hearts. You are worth more than you know.”
Korah smiles. “You’ll see my beauty again.”
She closes her eyes, and Hassha releases her to back away with silver tears lining her cheeks.
Korah lifts her hands above her chest, screaming with her last breaths until an orb of purple light appears between them.
Her chest bucks, and she screams louder as all the energy remaining is drawn out, pouring into the orb. Her body grays as the power drains, and Hassha steps back again, weeping as her sister disappears and that light produces a seed.
A seed just like Yuri’s.
She doesn’t bother reaching for it, though. She knows exactly where it’ll go. It drifts across the field toward Blackwater Manor, and when it disappears inside the castle, she flies back up to finish this war with Selah once and for all.
The seed glows in the dark confines of the castle, carrying down the stairs, passing the cellar and weaving between iron railing until it reaches the open door of the bunker.
The women inside cry hysterically as they surround Willow Austin. Juniper and Maeve kneel over their beloved, their faces buried in her chest, their hearts heavy, and their guilt suffocating all other senses.
But the seed doesn’t stop. As the two women weep, the tribe gasps, watching as the light hovers above them.
Juniper stops sniffling, taking note of the change in atmosphere, and when she looks up, she gasps too.
“Mum,” she whispers, tapping Maeve’s arm.
Maeve picks up her head to eye Juniper until she realizes the bunker is bathed in lavender light.
Before either can speak, the seed descends, slipping between Willow’s parted lips. They stare down at her body, watching that same light switch to gold.
It courses through Willow, radiating every vein and sparking her fingertips. Her hair that was once dark brown transitions to a snowy white from root to tip.
Her arms become more defined, the melanin in her skin brilliant, radiant. The gaping wound in her chest is next. Her skin stitches together like needle and thread.
Juniper stares wide-eyed while Maeve presses a hand to her mouth in disbelief.
Willow’s body pulses with gold energy as her body repairs itself, appearing much stronger than it had been before.
And when Willow’s eyes fly open to reveal striking gold halos, she inhales sharply, coming to life again.