Chapter 73 Elowen
ELOWEN
My eyes burn with tears as I lift my head and look at the witch. Hatred surges through me—hot, sharp, and blinding. It cuts through the grief and shock–through the hollow emptiness in my chest where Theron’s heartbeat should be.
“How could you?” I demand, my voice breaking. “Why would you want to hurt him?”
Grizalyn only shrugs, as though I’ve asked something trivial.
“Because I couldn’t have him,” she says lightly.
“He should have been my son. His father should have been my husband.” Her lips curl into a bitter smile.
“The Royal Family would have been lucky to have me. Oh, they were polite enough—they loved having me as Court Sorceress. But marry into the family?” She gives a mocking gasp, throwing one arm dramatically over her eyes.
“The horror. A sorceress with non-royal blood could never become queen.”
My hands clench into fists. I want to lunge at her. I want to tear her apart with my bare hands for what she’s done.
Instead, I stay where I am, kneeling beside Theron’s still body, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. I just can’t believe he’s gone…
“You could save him, you know,” she says idly.
“What?” I swipe angrily at my tears. “Why would you tell me that?”
“Because I know you won’t do it,” Grizalyn replies, giving me an arrogant smile.
“You won’t bring him back. No matter how much you love him.”
My breath catches in my throat—she’s only mocking me, I can see that.
“I can’t reverse death!” I say. “You’re just trying to—”
“Of course you can,” she interrupts smoothly. Her gaze sharpens as she looks at me and I feel suddenly exposed, as though she can see everything about me. “You hold all the elements you need to work the Time Weaving spell. I can see them.”
My heart stutters in my chest. In my grief, I’d forgotten all about the spell! Maybe I could save Theron, after all!
“Listen well, little priestess,” Grizalyn continues, her tone turning cold and deliberate. “A difficult choice lies before you. You can use your spell to go back in time and save your honor…or you can try to save the prince’s life.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head.
Her lips thin in irritation.
“Then let me spell it out for you,” she snaps.
“You can go back to the time before I cursed you and your fellow priestesses and resume your safe, quiet little life. Your blue eyes…your untouched innocence…your precious reputation—all of it restored.” Her gaze sharpens.
“But if you do that…the prince stays dead.”
My stomach drops.
“What? But why?”
“Because that is the nature of sacrifice magic,” she says coldly. “Perhaps you intended to go back to that timeline anyway. That would have worked—before I killed him. But now…” She spreads her hands slightly. “Now death has entered the weave.”
Her voice lowers, sounding almost thoughtful.
“So you see, you may use your magic to save him…or to save yourself. You cannot do both.”
I stare at her, my mind reeling, wondering if she can possibly be telling me the truth.
“You have a second choice, of course,” she goes on.
“You can go back to the moment before I killed the Lost Prince and try to stop me.” Her smile widens, cruel and confident.
“But even if you manage to defeat me—and you won’t, little priestess, because my power is a hundred times stronger than yours—even if you succeed, your life will be ruined. ”
Her gaze drags over me, deliberate and cutting.
“You will never get back your blue eyes. Never return to innocence. You will be an outcast—a half-breed Fae girl with green eyes and no husband.” She laughs derisively. “How very scandalous.”
My cheeks burn, but I don’t look away. She really is telling the truth—I’m certain of that. She’s too arrogant to lie.
“Just remember this,” she adds. “A Time Weaving can only be performed once by a magic practitioner. So choose carefully.” Her voice drops to a whisper, thick with malice.
“Return to your temple. Live your safe, dull, untouched life. Forget love. Forget desire. Let the prince lie dead and never know what you lost…”
Her eyes flash.
“Or go back and fight me. Fail. Watch him die again and live your life as an outcast forever more. Those are your options—choose wisely.”
I feel sick. The Court is still frozen around us, silent witnesses to my choice.
Grizalyn’s gaze pins me in place, certain of the choice I’ll make. So confident that I would never dare confront her again—that I’ll do anything to regain my lost honor…my lost virginity.
She already knows what she thinks I’ll do. She’s sure of me.
A small voice whispers in the back of my mind.
She’s right–you know you can’t beat her. She’s stronger than you—far stronger. You’ll only fail and watch him die again.
And after Theron dies a second time, I’ll still be ruined. Still alone…still an outcast still a half-breed girl with green eyes and no husband.
My gaze drops to Theron’s body.
His face is still, too still. The strength I’ve come to know in him is gone, replaced by something cold and empty that makes my chest ache so badly I can barely breathe.
He’s gone. Gone. The thought shatters something inside me—I can’t accept it.
I won’t accept it!
I press my hand against his chest, as though I can somehow will his heart to beat again…but there’s still nothing.
My throat tightens and tears sting my eyes.
You could have a safe life, the tempting little voice whispers. You could go back to the temple. Forget all of this. Forget him.
Forget him? The idea feels like a blade sliding through my heart.
No. Never. I can never forget the big Drake Shifter and all he means to me. I can never forget the time we spent together–the love we shared.
I lift my head slowly, my tears drying on my cheeks as something else rises in their place…resolve.
A plan flickers at the back of my mind—fragile, uncertain, probably impossible…but at least it’s something.
I can’t just let him go without even trying to get him back–I won’t do that! Grizalyn’s power might be a hundred times greater than mine, but I have something she doesn’t–a connection to something even greater than her evil magic.
Slowly, I begin to speak, the words of the Time Weaving spell spilling from my lips.
“Thread of time, unwind the seam,
Carry me through memory’s dream,
Back before the fault was cast,
Let me mend the broken past.”
The air in the huge court shifts and a hum fills the space around me, low and resonant, as the magic answers. Above my head, the four crystal globes appear—one by one—hovering in a slow, deliberate circle.
The feather…the vial of water…the gleaming purple jewel…and the living coal, glowing faintly with its own inner fire all rotate above me.
Grizalyn watches me, her lips curling into a sneer.
“Go on, little priestess,” she says, laughing. “Go back to your safe, quiet life. Go back to your pure, innocent blue eyes. Go back and serve your Goddess and never know a man’s touch…never know love.” Her gaze sharpens, certain of her victory. “Go back to the life you deserve.”
I meet her eyes calmly.
“Oh, I intend to,” I say.
Then I speak again.
“Guide my step to the fated hour,
Where wrong was forged and fed by power,
Turn the tide and break the chain,
Let me choose the path again.”
The world tilts around me. The Court begins to blur–colors smearing together as though the very fabric of reality is unraveling. The floor seems to drop out from under my feet, the air rushing past as something pulls me backward—downward—through time itself.
I cling to the image in my mind–the moment before she appeared–the time before she killed him.
My power might not be as strong as hers, but I will go back–I will find a way to stop her!
The world spins faster, the sound rising to a deafening roar, and then…
Everything disappears.