Chapter 18
Lightning shattered through the hall, cracking into the jet of light that burst from Mal’s fingertip.
It ricocheted into the vaulted ceiling and slammed into a sculpture of an oversized serpent.
The creature’s marbled head severed, crumbling to the floor with massive force.
Debris from the hit scattered across the hall.
Light dust from the destroyed fixture plumed in the air.
Maxius fell backwards, looking at his fingers in shock. But he, and the entire present company, swiftly realized it wasn’t the young boy who fired such an extraordinary force of Magic.
The Dread King’s eyes were already on Maeve, where she stood between him and Maxius.
On the electricity bouncing between her fingers.
On her protectively fierce expression.
The air crackled with threatening Magic between the King and the one who had blocked his path of Magic.
“You are out of your fucking mind,” said Maeve slowly and carefully.
Shadow smiled from the throne, her grin so utterly satisfied that Maeve desired to spit in her face. She giggled and stood, crossing behind Mal and wrapping her pale arms around his chest.
“Didn’t I tell you, my King?” she began.
“On your feet, Maxius,” commanded Mal. “We are not finished.”
Maxius obeyed with haste, exhausted breaths rolling through him.
“Yes,” said Maeve lowly. “You are.”
She turned and faced Maxius, her eyes landing briefly on her sister. She twisted her fingers through his hair, his frightened gaze locked on hers.
Do not fear. Fear is the absence of Magic, she slid into his mind.
Maxius’ eyes widened. He nodded. Maeve smiled softly down at him as his breathing evened.
“I will not let harm come to you,” she spoke aloud this time, ensuring her promise was heard by all, and gently tapped his temple.
He slipped to the floor, his landing light as a feather, as Maeve rendered him unconscious. She would not scar him further by witnessing the scene that was about to unfold.
She turned back to Mal and Shadow.
Shadow’s pleased grin remained plastered on her face. But Mal. . .
Mal’s dead eyes and pale lips held nothing but rage. Calm and sinister rage. And every ounce of it was directed at her.
“Have you remembered what you did yet,” his cold voice began, “or do you need reminding?”
Shadow rose to the tips of her toes and planted a long kiss to Mal’s jaw.
He didn’t peel his eyes away from Maeve.
She rested her head against him and pouted.
“Look how sad you’ve made my King.” She moved back to the throne swiftly, like a madwoman, and draped herself across it.
“There’s no use fighting, now, Little Viper,” taunted Shadow. “I showed him everything.”
“That must be nice,” replied Maeve. “I seem to be the only one of the three of us in the dark.”
“An easy fix,” said Shadow with a sigh, her gaze shifting upwards towards the glass ceiling.
“There’s no point in my trying to prevent it now.
We tried this your way, and you failed. Now, we do it my way.
” She angled her head and looked directly at Maeve with a sigh, as though this was beneath her.
“Though, I will enjoy watching you realize just how much of this is your fault.”
“Enough,” said Mal, his voice ripping Maeve’s attention from Shadow.
“Apologies, my King,” said Shadow.
As though it wasn’t she who possessed him.
As though it wasn’t her power looming over all of them.
Maeve couldn’t fix her mistakes, not if she didn’t know what they were.
She wouldn’t be able to right the wrongs if she had no idea of the truth.
She begged forgiveness for the things she didn’t remember.
She prayed Alphard would understand. She prayed that the unknown would unfold itself with grace.
As though he sensed her next move, Mal spoke. “I wonder if when you break the spell if you’ll feel guilt for any of it.”
“It’s you who are under a spell,” said Maeve softly, the reality she created ripping open inside her mind with each surrendered word until she let go completely.
Magic slipped free from her, unraveling in a spiral of destruction. Pain snapped across her knees as she buckled under the weight.
Loss and gain flooded her veins. Too much, too swiftly to understand all the changes, all the rewritten memories, and the contradictions of new and old, as her spell shattered.
Verification for the things she suspected, and the things Mal showed her, hung heavy in her mind. Her father’s death and falling in love with Mal at Sinclair Estates. Maxius’ true childhood, the one she’d hidden more than once now, hit her in blooming waves.
A weight lifted from her chest, one she’d never felt before its absence, only to be replaced by the worst memory of them all: her betrayal. Her abandoning of Mal.
It was her blood that unsealed Shadow. She went to Mount Morte, ignoring Mal’s commands not to. He had tried so hard to protect her, to keep them all safe from Shadow. And she had failed to do the same in return.
Her cheeks became soaked as she kneeled in the Throne Room.
The floor between them may as well have been coated in blood. Her father’s blood. Arman’s blood. The blood she’d willingly and unwillingly spilled for Mal.
“Tears?” Shadow’s voice cut across the silent hall. “You’ll have to do better than that to sway the Dread King. Can’t you feel it radiating from him? How utterly furious he is?”
“Stop it,” she whispered, her gaze down.
“You didn’t just take his son from him,” said Shadow, sitting up in the throne, ignoring her completely.
“You broke all those sweet promises of companionship, protection. You vowed to fight for him until your last breath!” Shadow’s voice edged on something hysterical.
Maeve looked up at her at last. The Shadow Queen frowned deeply and continued.
“Meaningless words,” she muttered. “You live and breathe despite such bold betrayal.”
Maeve shifted her focus to Mal.
It was truly a horrible feeling, not being able to deny such blatant proof that she had broken every word between them. That he’d begged her not to abandon him to the wicked and vile creature that now occupied his throne.
But she did.
That she’d promised on bended knee to be his second, and fight for him.
But she ran.
“The worst part is,” began Shadow, her voice crackling with Magic, “is that if you had told him the truth, he might have understood your reasoning. I hadn’t fully consumed him yet then.
” Another bored sigh. “That isn’t the case anymore, of course.
” She straightened her back and crossed her legs. “Malachite.”
Mal turned towards her, looking over his shoulder.
“I’ve grown tired of this,” she said, her blue eyes on him.
Maeve’s blue eyes. Those were her eyes.
Something between a laugh and a cry broke from Maeve’s throat as she remembered trading her eyes for Shadow’s pale ones. The white Queen’s scowl landed on Maeve at her outburst.
“What now, Little Viper?” said Shadow, the affectionate name sounding like acid in her voice.
Maeve nodded in understanding, pressing one foot into the floor and slowly standing to her full height.
“First,” she said, swallowing hard. “You’re going to stop calling me that.”
Shadow’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at being given a command.
Maeve inhaled slowly, pulling inward every bit of Magic that occupied her soul, her veins, and her mind, and let it run wild through her. She exhaled, marveling at the expanse of it and the control she maintained.
She was awakened.
She extended her arms, electric energy pulsing across her knuckles, begging to be used. Lightning had shot from her fingertips only moments ago. Rare and destructive Magic that, with each breath, she remembered just how she’d used it in the past.
“You do not command me,” said Shadow.
“Second,” said Maeve, dropping her hands to her side as Shadow’s lips thinned into a tight line. “You are the one who failed. Not me. Though,” she held up two fingers, observing how sharp the potential in them was, “the way I’m feeling right now, I think I’m grateful.”
Shadow scowled.
Maeve looked back up at her. “When you asked for my eyes, I didn’t understand it then.
But I do now. You loosened your hold on his mind.
That’s why he broke through. There is no deception of Magic that drives him to me.
Like calls to like. You loosened your reins on his mind with the pathetic notion he’d truly fall for you. ” Maeve shook her head. “Didn’t you?”
The blade struck its mark.
Darkness swallowed Shadow’s eyes. “Since you’ve remembered so much now, then you’ll do well to remember that we had a deal. And that your son’s life hangs in the balance of that deal.”
Maeve continued her slow breaths, just as she’d been taught by her father. In and out. In and out. Each set stoking the Magic flowing freely through her.
How could she have buried such an undeniable extension of herself?
“I kept my bargain,” continued Maeve. “I stayed away. Your failure to win his heart is not my burden to bear.”
Shadow was anything but bored now. The air turned oppressive, volatile as darkness wrapped her pale body.
Maeve turned her attention to Mal.
“I did fail you, though.”
His green eyes shifted. Maybe it was just a trick of the thickening mist of darkness, but she swore a tiny fleck of hazel drifted through them.
She looked down at her chest, and the starburst scar of Magic remained. She remembered then how she had removed it. That hadn’t been an illusion, or a lie, or a trick of mind Magic. That removal was real. Her chest ached at the feeling, recalling how desperate she had been to protect Maxius.
“I won’t fail again.”
She anticipated the blow. As Mal’s Magic coiled back and prepared to strike on Shadow’s behalf, Maeve readied two fingers at her side.