Chapter 76
Fenris’s rough voice answers, a snort of resignation in his tone. “If the Witte Wieven want her, we can do nothing to stop them.”
Raiden’s chest rumbles beneath my cheek, his anger barely contained. “She’s so cold,” he mutters, his arms tightening around me protectively.
Two wet noses push against me. ‘Mother?’
‘I’m okay. I just can’t move yet.’
Their warm heads nuzzle against me. Though I can’t move, I’m not scared. More than anything, I’m relieved the pain is over, and I know what our next step is.
“The Witte Wieven wouldn’t hurt her,” Nix assures as I feel her land on my knee. “The Guardians and the druids are closely related. It doesn’t make sense for them to wish her harm.”
“Everly is in danger, now more than ever,” Fenris growls.
“What do you mean?” Tristan questions, and I hear him move closer.
“She is the key to releasing the Shadoweaver from his prison. A lot of fae won’t want that to happen, and the only way to truly prevent it . . . ”
“Is to kill her,” Raiden finishes.
“Exactly,” Fenris agrees darkly.
Their words send a shiver down my spine, and I want nothing more than to curl in on myself, to shrink away and make myself small. It’s the same instinct I felt all those years growing up in foster care, back when I learned that hiding could keep me safe, unseen.
"I will fly her back," Raiden's voice cuts through my thoughts, firm and final. I don’t hear a response before we’re airborne. My stomach drops as we ascend with each powerful flap of his wings, and though I can’t open my eyes, I can imagine the ground swiftly shrinking away beneath us.
"You really gotta stop leaving your bedroom, Everly," he quips, half-amused, half-scolding. "I’m going to need to put a bell on you."
I wish I could get my mouth to work to reply, but every muscle in my body is locked in fear. Being unable to move is terrifying. Still, I push the panic down. Raiden's got me, and I trust him with my life. Whatever happens, I know he will keep me safe.
Back in my room, I feel the faintest stirrings of movement returning to my limbs, like a slow, tingling current.
Raiden gently lays me down on the daybed, his touch careful, as if I might shatter.
I’m vaguely aware of a blanket being pulled up over me, its weight a soft, comforting pressure that anchors me as my senses start to clear.
I think about everything I just saw and what the Witte Wieven told me.
That verse has been burned into my brain.
The verse seems straightforward, almost deceptively so, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time here, it’s that nothing is ever simple.
Every word, every phrase, could have layers, like hidden traps waiting to be sprung.
I turn the verse over in my mind, again and again.
With a soft breath, my eyelids flutter open, and the relief I feel is immediate.
It’s like my body was so overloaded with what the Witte Wieven had done that it shut down momentarily.
The door to my chambers opens, and I hear Zaria whispering to Raiden. I turn my head to the side and see her worried expression.
“Is she okay?” Zaria whispers harshly.
“I’m okay,” I croak, trying to sit up, but my head protests the movement.
Zaria’s warm honey brown eyes land on me, and relief softens her features as she quickly crosses the room and helps me sit up.
“Oh, thank Morrigan. I was worried when the others said you were unconscious.”
At the mention of the goddess’s name, a strange feeling surges through me—an odd, fluttering jolt I can’t explain. I’ve heard of her, and Valric mentioned her once when he spoke of the funeral rites. But there is no reason for her name alone to have this effect on me.
Zaria opens her mouth, but I hold my hand up, magic washing over my body, and I abruptly stand.
The world around me fades and shifts. Suddenly, I’m standing at the elegant fountain outside my castle at the Evergreens.
Water laps playfully around my hand as I skim it across the surface.
I catch my reflection only to see the five-year-old version of me.
Another memory? A vision?
I sense someone’s presence, a subtle warmth that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle, and I turn, glancing over my shoulder.
A beautiful woman stands there, a soft, serene smile on her face.
Her honey-brown hair cascades down her shoulders, impossibly long and glittering like spun gold, and her amber eyes radiate a kindness and wisdom that draws me in, making me feel oddly safe.
“Who are you?” I whisper, unable to tear my gaze away.
The woman steps forward, her movements as graceful as the wind. Reaching out, she traces a gentle path down my cheek with her fingertips. Her touch is warm and soft, and a profound sense of calm settles into my bones.
“I’m Morrigan,” she answers softly.
A flicker of recognition surges through me. “Hi, I’m . . . I’m Princess Vera,” I manage, suddenly feeling small under her gaze.
Her smile widens, warm and knowing. “I know, Vera. I am the one who blessed your life in your mother’s womb. You are destined to do great things, my child. But there is one thing you must remember—it’s very important.”
I stare completely entranced by her presence as her words settle over me like a protective veil.
“Trust your heart, you can do no wrong if you follow your heart.”
I tilt my head, the weight of my golden hair cascading over my shoulder. A soft smile graces Morrigan’s lips as her hand reaches out, fingers like feathers gliding through my hair, the touch light and ethereal.
“And one more thing,” she whispers, her voice gentle. “If you try to do it all by yourself, your heart will crumble into dust. There are allies everywhere—people willing to stand by your side, some even willing to give their lives to help you fulfil your destiny.”
A pang of fear twists in my chest. “But I don’t want anyone to die,” I object softly.
Morrigan’s eyes soften, a gentle sadness mingling with her wisdom.
“Death is not the end, Vera,” she murmurs, her words filled with a promise I don’t quite understand.
“Those who choose this path understand its cost. Remember, they will find peace in purpose, and their spirits will always walk beside you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your birth stirred something ancient and dark. The Shadoweaver, long bound in slumber, felt the ripple of your magic echo through Faerie. It awakened her. Drawn to your power like a moth to flame. She knew you were the one that could free her, and she has been hunting you ever since. Your mother understood the danger that your presence posed, not just to you, but to all of Faerie. That’s why she made the impossible choice—to send you away, to hide you beyond the veil of this world, far from the Shadoweaver’s reach.
It was the only way to protect you. But the moment you returned to Faerie, everything changed.
Now, her gaze is fixed on you. Whether you find and free your prince or not, she will not stop.
Not unless you face her. Because even if you win this battle, there will be another.
The Shadoweaver will keep coming, again and again—until she claims the crown that was never meant to be hers. ”
A cold rush of realization washes over me—I haven’t even considered that. Every ounce of my focus has been on getting Maxon back. But that’s just the beginning.
She wants out.
And she won’t stop until she’s free.
My mind trips up for a second as the word slams into me. “Wait. She?”
Morrigan nods and leans down, pressing a light kiss to my forehead, and I feel warmth blossom there, spreading through me like sunlight. “You are not alone. Trust your heart, and trust those who choose to walk with you.”
As she pulls away, her form begins to fade, dissolving like mist.
Then I’m standing in my chambers again with Zaria’s big brown eyes filling my vision.
“Seriously, Everly. You must stop doing that!”
“Sorry,” I reply, rubbing my temples.
“What did you see?” Raiden gently takes my hand, guiding me over to the sofas, his touch steadying. I sink down, feeling a comforting weight settle over me as Zaria drapes a blanket around my shoulders. I smile up at her, grateful.
“I’m going to get you some tea,” she murmurs softly, brushing a hand over my shoulder.
“Thanks,” I reply, watching her go before turning back to Raiden.
He sits beside me, his silver eyes meeting mine, their usual calm replaced by a storm of emotion swirling within them, flickers of worry and something deeper.
I can tell he’s been holding back his own anxiety, and I give him a half-smile, trying to lighten the tension.
“Sorry, Batman.”
Raiden sighs, shaking his head, his tone softer now. “It’s not your fault.”
I take a steadying breath. “Should we wait for the others before I tell you what I saw . . . and what the Witte Wieven shared with me?” I ask, searching his face for guidance.
He considers for a moment before nodding. “Probably, unless there’s anything you don’t want them to know,” he replies, his voice gentle but curious.
“No, we’ll wait.” I pull my legs up, crossing them beneath me, and tighten the blanket around my shoulders, feeling both anticipation and a sliver of dread settle over me.
A few moments later, Nix bursts into the room, her energy loud and brash, exactly as expected. “Do you know what time it is?” she shrieks, crossing her arms and fixing me with a look that would intimidate anyone but me. “How are we supposed to get any rest when you keep disappearing all the time?”
“Nix,” Raiden growls, his voice rumbling through the room, instantly silencing her outburst. There’s a protectiveness in his tone, and his eyes flash with warning.
I sigh, looking down as guilt coils around me. “She’s right,” I admit.
My friends are here trying to protect me, and I am making it hard for them. Although, admittedly, not on purpose.