Chapter 36
Isabelle
Darkness is all I know. It surrounds me, pulling me deeper and deeper under its web.
I scream, or at least I try to, but no sound leaves my mouth.
It’s as if the darkness swallows it. My body is jostled from side to side, hitting my head against the hard interior walls.
My breaths come in short gasps as the beginning of a panic attack sets in.
It’s so dark.
The room is closing in on me.
My heart pounds rapidly in my chest. Is this a heartache? A heart attack?
Invisible hands wrap around my throat, and I’m choking.
If this is how my life ends, in a cramped dark box, then let my last thoughts be of Oziel.
How I wish I had more time with him. How I wish I told him how I felt before it was too late.
Two creatures that should have never been capable of love found it in each other.
Because I’m pretty sure he loves me in his own way.
Sadly, I won’t ever get the chance to experience that life with him now.
I wait for the sweet release of death, wondering how I’ll meet it.
I don’t know how Garvan plans on killing me, but I hope it’s quick.
Selfishly, I don’t want to feel any pain.
If there was any chance of fighting back, I would.
But I’m weaponless, my husband is stone, I can’t move, and Garvan possesses magic. My odds don’t look good.
The impending sense of doom takes over my body, my stomach lurching as the sensation of falling through the air consumes me.
It only lasts for a moment before the bottom of the trunk hits the hard ground with an unforgiving thud that sends pain throughout my body.
Muffled footsteps come from outside, and then nothing at all.
Silence scares me more than anything.
A surge of anticipation coils inside me. What the fuck is he doing? Panic tightens its grip as my mind races through the worst possible scenarios.
Then, suddenly, the lid of the chest bursts open, flooding my vision with the harsh glare of the outside lights. The brightness stings my eyes, forcing me to blink rapidly—once, then twice—before my vision clears.
Garvan looms over me, his face contorted in a mask of deranged rage. There’s little left of the courtier I thought I knew. No, this is the face of a man who is willing to risk everything.
Garvan reaches for me, grabbing the front of my dress and hauling me out of the chest as if I weigh nothing at all.
My body is still tightly bound, and whatever magic he used from the roses has me unable to feel certain parts of it.
The flowers in question are set next to the chest, untouched but buzzing with unused potential.
I get a moment to check out my surroundings and find he has taken me back to where I attacked him near the River Hel.
Garvan tosses me to the ground, and I crash onto my hip.
Pain detonates through me as jagged rocks bite into my skin, a fresh wave of agony layering over the bruises I’ve already collected today.
At this rate, my body will be covered in them.
Though, if I don’t make it out of this alive, I suppose it won’t matter.
Two polished black leather boots step into my line of sight, stopping just inches away. A cruel chuckle follows. “You don’t look well, my queen.” Garvan almost sounds genuinely concerned.
Rage ignites inside me, burning brighter than the pain because he doesn’t get to pretend to care but also want to kill me and Oziel.
I have never wanted to kill anyone more, and that includes James.
Fuck, his death seems like a lifetime ago.
So much has changed since I stepped through the portal and into Mescos.
“Fuck you, Garvan,” I spit, finding my words, even if my voice comes out hoarse.
My comment only makes him frown. “You know, I’m actually sad, believe it or not, my queen.
Admittedly, I didn’t want you in Mescos, but once you were here, I deluded myself that you would be good for Oziel.
I even encouraged him to make you fall in love with him.
” His last words drop an octave, like he hates he’s even admitting that.
“But I miscalculated the weakness you’d bring our king, and by extension our kingdom.
Just like his bloody parents. It was then I knew I made the right choice to align myself with the Nephilim fully.
” The bindings around my body disappear, but the effects of the roses still linger, and I feel heavy.
Like each movement takes a great amount of effort and concentration.
“The Nephilim won’t spare you,” I growl, thinking back to the visions I shared with the captive Nephilim.
How a woman begged them to stop. They wouldn’t until they reached their end goal.
Which is…? Power? To take hold of Mescos?
Whatever it is, Garvan is a fool if he believes he can trust those creatures.
I felt the pain and loss the woman in the vision felt.
I know from her just how deadly the Nephilim are.
“They will. We might be weaker, but we won’t be eradicated like the other kingdoms,” he says, voice teetering on madness.
Garvan is too far gone to talk any sense into.
“I just have to destroy the river. That’s the sacrifice they demand to reverse the curse.
I’ll do it. The demons will understand. I’ll make them understand.
Right after I poison the River Hel for the last time and destroy the roses. Oh, and kill you too, human queen.”
Destroy the roses?
“Why would you need to destroy the roses?” I demand, but my question goes unanswered. Garvan doesn’t acknowledge me—whether he’s ignoring me or simply no longer sees the need to speak to me, I don’t know.
My gaze shifts to the delicate roses resting unprotected just a few feet away. A sense of urgency grips me. More than ever, I’m convinced they hold the key to the kingdom’s salvation. If only I could get my damn body to move. My hand twitches, but even that feels like a monumental task.
Garvan pays no attention to me, clearly not deeming me a threat. All my focus is getting my body to move. Slowly, I manage to scoot myself forward, inching like a worm. It’s infuriatingly slow, but at least I’m no longer stagnant.
Despite my better judgment, my gaze wanders back to Garvan just in time to see him take a vial of inky black liquid from his coat pocket and pop open the lid. It’s the same bottle he had the other night when I caught him poisoning the river during the ball.
Every movement is agony, my battered body screaming in protest with each desperate pull forward. Pain radiates, sharp and unrelenting, but I grit my teeth and push through it, refusing to give in. Tears blur my vision, yet I don’t stop. I can’t stop no matter what.
The roses lie just ahead. The petals sway gently, mocking me with their nearness. So close. Just a little more.
I sink my nails into the damp earth, clawing at the grass and dirt, summoning every last ounce of strength to drag myself forward. My fingers stretch out, trembling, the very tips just inches from the bouquet.
Then a sound cuts through the silence. A rustling in the woods behind me.
My breath catches. Garvan’s head whips around, and his eyes land on me and my proximity to the roses. Then he jerks his head up, staring at something behind me. The subtle widening of his eyes has me on alert.
I strain my neck to look behind me at whomever has made Garvan tense. Part of me hopes, though it’s impossible, that I’ll see Oziel. Even knowing I wouldn’t see my husband, I still feel a wave of devastation.
And then confusion.
A man stands in the shadows of the forest. His features are familiar, but my brain is slow to process him. His skin is dark, the color of the tree bark around him. His locs are neatly pulled back; a few specks of gold hit the light when he moves.
But I don’t stare for long because a new figure steps out from behind him. Slender. Tall. Skin only a few shades lighter than the man’s. But, unlike the man, this woman I know well, even if she has no idea who I am. My breath catches in my throat.
Then Erin Goodwin steps into the clearing and looks directly at me.