Chapter 41
Isabelle
I’ve always prided myself on being able to have hard conversations.
I may not always deliver the message in the correct tone, but I always get my point across.
Never once have I been at a loss for what to say, fearful of what the other person might think of me.
But that’s exactly how I feel when the door shuts on our husbands and I’m alone with Erin.
The woman smiles kindly at me, completely unaware of the terrible—yet necessary—thing I have done. Will she hate me when she finds out? Distance herself from a killer?
“Something is bothering you,” Erin says after I’ve been quiet for too long. Normally, the warm room wouldn’t bother me, but sweat coats my brow as I stare down the woman I’ve known longer than she’s known me. “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” she adds gently.
I take a deep breath, centering myself and calling upon my courage. This needs to be done, and she needs to know. So, without a preamble, I begin, “I knew you back in Grym Hollow.”
Erin’s brows knit together, and she tilts her head to the side, assessing me. “You did? I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you,” she says apologetically.
“You didn’t know me. But we had something in common.” I pause, knowing the next thing I say will hurt her. “I knew James,” I whisper.
For a moment, Erin reverts to the timid, scared woman James forced her to be. Her body shakes, and it appears she’s doing everything she can to keep her breathing even and her nerves in check. Her eyes dart around the room as if James is going to walk out from the shadows. “Oh?” she finally says.
And then I tell her everything. Everything I’ve been dying to tell her since I’ve arrived.
I tell her about Anna, my sweet sister, and the torment she experienced with James.
The hell he put my family through. How my sister became a shell of the woman she once was.
How I couldn’t save her, and how the day I found her dead in her bedroom was the day a part of me died too.
“James killed her?” Erin’s voice is unsteady as tears roll down her eyes. My own cheeks are wet with emotions I can’t hold back.
“Yes,” I explain, “not by his own hand, but it may as well have been. He led my sister to an early grave. I hated him for what he did to her. And I hated him for doing it to you too. I couldn’t let the cycle continue, Erin. I really couldn’t. He would only pick a new victim.”
Erin gives a single nod, her expression tightening.
A flicker of anticipation flashes in her eyes almost like she’s expecting the news yet still steeling herself for the weight of it.
Her shoulders tense, and she inhales slowly, as if preparing for a blow she knows is coming but still hopes won’t land as hard as she fears.
Her voice is quiet, measured. “Isabelle…what happened to James when I left?”
And there’s the question I’ve been most dreading. Not because I regret my actions. I would kill James over and over again, even though it won’t ever bring back my sister. I just never wanted him to do that to another girl again.
“I killed him, Erin. I watched his blood stain the ground and reveled in the terror in his eyes. Because I knew that’s how Anna felt every time he struck her.
I wanted him to get a dose of his own medicine, and for him to never harm another person again.
I watched the light go out of his eyes, and I regret nothing. ”
Erin is quiet, standing completely emotionless. I don’t know if I want her to yell or punch me, but I definitely don’t want her to be quiet. It’s far worse than the alternatives.
“I’m so sorry, Erin. Not that I killed him, but that you weren’t the one to do it.”
“I would have never been able to kill James,” she says at last. “I thought about it. Daily, but I knew I couldn’t take the life of another person, even one as cruel and horrid as James.”
Tears stream down Erin’s face as she reaches for me, her fingers trembling.
I don’t hesitate. My hands find hers, our grip firm as unspoken understanding passes between us.
We just stare at each other, two women forever bound by the horrors of the same man, though our suffering took different forms.
Her voice is thick with emotion when she finally speaks.
“Thank you for telling me.” She exhales, as if releasing a weight she’s carried for far too long.
I do the same, my body unburdening itself at last. “James got the ending he deserved, and I no longer have to live in fear that he’ll hurt anyone else. ”
The finality of those words lingers between us for a heartbeat. And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, we crash into each other’s arms, clinging to the shared relief, the grief, and the unspoken strength that has carried us both to this moment.
We are no longer the girls who left Grym Hollow, running from a past that threatened to swallow us whole. No, we stand with each other as queens, loved by men who truly deserve our love.
An unbreakable bond tethers us, and I know Erin will be a part of the rest of my life. I want to get to know her. The real her, and I want to finally have a friend.
Ten minutes must have passed because a knock sounds at the door just before Allarick and Oziel barge in, completely unapologetic about their abrupt and unceremonious entrance.
Erin and I exchange a glance before dissolving into high-pitched giggles, the kind that comes from a mix of overwhelming emotions and sheer exhaustion.
Our eyes are red and puffy, and our cheeks streaked with tears, but we make no effort to hide it.
Our husbands pause, scanning us with a mix of concern and bewilderment, as if we’ve completely lost our minds. Maybe to them we have—and that’s okay. They’ll never truly understand this moment—it belongs to Erin and me alone.
“Sweet Girl, Atina is waiting for us,” Allarick says gently, as if nervous to separate us.
Erin squeezes my hand one last time. “Let’s not be strangers. How about dinner soon? I can introduce you to the other girls.”
I’ve never been one to make many friends, so the thought sounds appealing, if somewhat nerve-racking. I nod. “I would love that.”
We share one last look before Erin goes back to Allarick, murmuring to him how she’ll fill him in later about what we just discussed.
She smiles politely at Oziel, who dips his head slightly in respect.
He and Allarick share a handshake, nodding at one another.
Allarick lets go and offers me a smile before heading out with Erin.
They barely make it out of the room before Oziel is on me, crushing me against his firm body. “I want to know everything, but before we start, tell me Garvan is dead,” he says, eyes flashing black.
I laugh softly, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Very dead. Dagger to the throat by Delmare. I might have helped a little too.”
“How disappointing,” Oziel murmurs. I can only imagine the type of horrors my husband would exact upon him.
“I will tell you everything,” I wrap my arms around his neck, “but first I need you to carry me to bed, strip us, and fuck me.” I don’t care that I’m tired or that my body hurts. I won’t be able to truly sleep well without feeling Oziel inside of me. I need it desperately. I need him.
Without another word, Oziel lifts me up, and shadows form around us. I grin. “Your shadows are back.” They never truly left, but they were weakened. He seems to be growing stronger, which means the River Hel is truly healed.
Oziel’s shadows curl around us, enveloping me in their cool embrace as they weave through the air like living tendrils.
Their touch is both comforting and possessive, a silent promise of protection—one I know Oziel will keep until his dying breath.
I lean into him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine.
He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
“Let’s go, Wife,” he murmurs, his voice a low command laced with something deeper. Something meant only for me.
And just like that, the world fades away until there is nothing but him.