Chapter 53 #2
In the middle stands Thorn, his silver hair mocking me with its trickery.
My eyes scan for Olin, but all I see beside the pair is the biggest wolf I’ve ever seen.
Only it’s not a wolf. Not entirely. Its body is wolf-like—four legs, a thick tail and dark red fur.
But it’s the size of a horse with a massive head and long canines dripping with saliva.
But those eyes—green and gleaming—I know those eyes.
“Is that …” My mouth gapes.
Soren’s grin widens. “Olin, yes. Quite the beast, huh?”
I swallow. “I’d say.”
Soren strides toward the group, meeting Thorn halfway. The two men embrace, clapping each other loudly on the back before Thorn pulls away and smoothes his hair. “We were in the midst of battling the king’s creatures when they suddenly vanished. Turned to shadows that drifted away in the breeze.”
My eyes shift from Thorn to Olin’s beast form.
The wolf creature winks at me before striding to my side and sitting like a dog following a command.
I take a nervous step back before the beast drops to the ground, planting his muzzle between his paws and whining.
I chuckle as I bend over to scratch between his ears.
Soren narrows his eyes at me as I pet his friend.
Thorn raises an eyebrow. “The king?”
“Gone. Dead. Packed into ice,” Soren says, gesturing to Isolde.
Thorn’s gaze shifts from the block of ice in Isolde’s arms to Arc. “What will you do with the remains?”
Arc straightens. “There’s a place in the northern part of the sea that sucks everything into its vortex, keeping it held in its depths forever. I will fly him there. His eternal resting place.”
Thorn nods, content with the answer.
“And the rest of us?” My eyes fall to the scholar, always ready with a plan.
Thorn looks at me, his eyes focused. “We know what the prophecy says. The woman would rise up as the new queen of Silverveil.”
I swallow, but a small figure in the corner of my eye catches my attention. Maeve steps beside Thorn. He tilts his head down toward her, his brow pulled together. “Ah, Maeve. Good to see you again.”
Maeve perks up. “We all know prophecies can change.” She turns to look at me and Camryn, standing side by side.
Thorn’s eyebrows arch at the girl’s confidence.
“Silverveil needs balance. A harmony of light and dark. Of dawn and dreams. Of what could be and what is. Just as daylight blankets our world, so does night.”
Camryn and I exchange confused glances.
Maeve beams. “There are to be two queens to watch over the realm. One with practicality and sureness. The ability to call light in the dark.” Her brown eyes lock onto me before turning to Camryn.
“And one to show Silverveil all the possibilities of the future. Of the serenity and secrets of the night. Two queens. Serving in perfect balance.”
Camryn and I stare at each other, mouths agape. I have no business ruling over anyone, and I know Camryn is thinking the same thing.
Clara’s voice lifts from behind me. “Not ruling. Leading. Our people need a strong leader full of light to guide them.” I turn to see her shining eyes and rosy cheeks beaming at me. I smile at her and she nods.
Soren squeezes my hand. “And I will be right here, supporting you in whatever you need.”
Arc strides toward us, and to my surprise, he lowers himself to his knee. His mouth curves into a grin before he dips his head toward the floor. “My queens,” he says.
Silence ripples over us, and my breath is stolen from my lungs. One by one, the others bow to me and Camryn, and I feel my power surge in my veins.
I take steady breaths, thinking about how much my life has changed in a matter of months. My experience shifted from an unwanted camping trip to ruling a fantasy world.
Camryn looks at me. “So what now? Do we all just live as one big, happy family in the palace?”
I chuckle and I don’t miss the flash of concern on Arc’s face as he gazes up at us.
Caelum slides his arms around Camryn. “As much as I love these people, I don’t really want to live under the same roof forever.” He leans in closer to her, but I hear him whisper. “I have plans for you. Loud ones.”
My friend blushes and I look away, heat prickling my skin as well.
“I’d like to go home to Riverholm. I’m sure we can figure the details of our queendom out at a later time.” I raise an eyebrow in question to Thorn.
Thorn nods to me. “Of course,” he replies.
Arc’s shoulders relax, relieved that we aren’t going to move into the palace.
He walks to Isolde and holds out his hands toward the frozen block of his father’s remains.
She looks at him with violet eyes, and I swear her mouth twitches as if it wants to curve into a friendly smile.
To know she’s been devoid of true happiness for so long makes my chest ache.
I turn to glance at Clara and Maeve. “We have something to do before we go home. Isolde, can you join us in the garden?”
Isolde looks at me with a face full of questions. To think she’s suspicious of me makes me chuckle. I turn, leading Clara and Maeve outside, while Isolde and Draven follow close behind.
It’s midday and the clouds have cleared. A bright blue sky greets us as we step outside. The sun beams down, and I shield my eyes as they adjust to the light.
I walk through the gardens, past the flowers and under the pergola covered in moonflower vines. When I reach the soft patch of grass just beyond the garden, I stop. Clara and Maeve arrive at my side, and we turn to see Isolde hesitantly approach us.
“What’s going on? Are you three witches conspiring to kill me?” Isolde asks.
I laugh, shaking my head. “No. I spoke to Clara and Maeve, and we think with the help of all of us, we can thaw your heart. Return it to how it was before. Let you feel again.”
Whatever she was expecting, by the look on her face, it was not that. “What? You can do that?” She swallows.
I smile warmly at her. “We believe so, yes. Is that something you want? We couldn’t have defeated the king without you. We thought this would be a small way to thank you. To let you have your full life back now that you’re free.”
She stands speechless before turning to Draven at her side. He stares at her, his deep blue eyes churning like the sea. His lips curve into a soft grin, and his hand strokes her cheek. “What do you say?”
Without turning her eyes away from the incubus, she answers. “Yes.”