Chapter 48 #2
Ethan’s eyes meet mine through the steam created by my pyre, and for the first time all morning, he looks surprised. Then he lets out an ear-splitting roar.
Death races toward me in the form of Ethan Lightbringer. His wings are impossibly large, his lethal blade thrust forward, and I know I won’t have enough time to burn him, too. If I let go of the hawthorn now, it will only give him more power.
I have to see this through.
Ethan dives, poised to strike.
Then something materializes between us, an invisible form slowly coming into focus.
Ezra.
His hand closes around his father's wrist, and the blade veers away from me. Bone snaps.
Then Ezra drives the end-all blade upward, deep into his father’s heart, impaling the king on his own weapon. A wince and a groan tear out of Ezra’s mouth, his arms straining from the effort as he brings his second hand around the hilt and drives the blade deeper.
Ethan’s eyes widen. “Son—” Blood dribbles from the King of Light’s chin, and he smirks. “Well done. You’re a winner, at last.”
Ezra’s jaw ticks. “To the seven hells with you,” he mumbles.
Ethan falls to his knees, and Willow whispers something in his ear before slicing his head clean off with her sword.
Her injured arm is coated in blood and melted metal, one of her wings stained red and missing a chunk of feathers. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her good arm trembles around the pommel of her sword as she struggles to keep herself upright.
Devi lands back upon the terrace with Damian in tow, one hand pressed to her bleeding side. The Shadow King barely spares the scene a glance before sprinting back into the castle.
Ezra is on all fours, panting in front of his father’s dead body, his hand still locked around the hilt of the end-all blade. Then he wrenches it free, and the weapon slips from his trembling fingers, hitting the stone next to Ethan with a loud clank.
That’s it.
It’s over.
I rush to Ezra’s side.
“Are you alright? Let me see.”
He promptly falls on his ass. “Hey, little fox. I’m okay.”
“You’ve been stabbed.”
“Don’t fret. I’ve known worse. He didn’t use his end-all blade.” He grins through the pain. “Not on his precious heir.”
“You—you cocky bastard.” I shove at his shoulder, only to grab hold of him instead, burying my face against his chest as relief crashes into me all at once, turning the panic and adrenaline that carried me through the fight into a hot, heavy sob.
He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, one hand stroking my hair while his heartbeat thumps steadily beneath my ear.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
Next to us, the hawthorn remains blackened and smoking, its leaves shriveled by my fire.
“Is it dead?” Willow asks, staring at the tree.
She moves to touch the trunk, and a brilliant light suddenly envelops both Willow and Ezra, bright enough to make me squint and burn my retinas all over again. As I blink away the afterimage, a halo rests atop her auburn hair.
The Crown of Light.
It remains there for only a few seconds before vanishing, but a ripple of magic cracks several darkened branches, and Ezra’s new burst of power thrums through my veins.
Ezra smiles up at his wife, looking more relieved than disappointed. “I’m glad it’s you. You know I never truly wanted it.”
Willow’s expression softens, and she pats his shoulder. “It’s ours to share now.”
“What happened here?” Devi asks, staring up at the burnt tree.
Ezra brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Max happened. She saved us.”
Devi stares at me, her gaze bordering on awe, and heat creeps into my cheeks.
“I had to do something. You guys weren’t winning this fight anytime soon,” I blurt out.
Ezra chuckles softly and pulls me closer before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “So humble.”
Devi crouches beside her father's body and reaches around his neck. “Ethan used this to destroy the jewels, I think.”
She holds up the moonstone pendant she found.
“What is it?” Ezra asks.
Devi turns it over in her hand. “No idea.”
Elio and Lori stagger out of the castle, and I can't tell who's supporting whom. Lori is curled against Elio’s side, one arm hooked around his waist, but his arm is locked around her shoulders just as tightly, holding her upright.
He put on some clothes in the interlude, dressed in one of those white cotton servant uniforms.
As if on cue, a blue light rises from Ethan's headless corpse.
Willow's fingers tighten around the hilt of her sword, then recognition dawns, and her shoulders relax as everyone falls silent.
Elio releases Lori to kneel beside Ethan’s body, and the light drifts toward him as though it recognizes its master.
Frost ripples across his skin the moment his fingers close around the soul. Ice races up his arm in delicate patterns, and the blue light flickers once before disappearing into his palm.
The dark circles under Elio's eyes vanish, color returning to his face. His shoulders straighten, and he looks whole again. Healthy.
Beside him, Lori crumples, her knees hitting the marble before the rest of her follows.
Elio's voice breaks. "Lori?"
He catches her before she can strike the ground and gathers her into his lap. "Lori!”
No response.
Panic flashes across his face.
"Little spider." His hand shakes as he brushes a dark strand of hair away from her cheek. "Little spider, can you hear me?"
For a terrible second, I think she's gone.
Then her lashes flutter.
"Elio?" she croaks.
His eyelids squeeze shut, and he presses his forehead to hers. "I'm here," he whispers.
“Step aside, Elio,” Willow says. “I think Iris is trying to kill Lori from the inside. There’s no time to dawdle. We have to take her out now.”
Ezra’s warmth leaves my side as both brothers stagger to their feet.
“Let me,” he says. “I’m the only one who should live with Iris’s death on his conscience.”
Elio catches his brother by the shoulder. “Can you do it? Truly? Can you free Lori from the dark soul?”
“I can.”
Ezra kneels in front of Lori, a pure white light blossoming in his palm. “I’m sorry, Iris. For everything,” he says in atonement, then he presses his hand over her heart.
Lori’s body arches violently, and her fingers clamp around Ezra’s wrist.
Her gray eyes flash open.
For one terrible second, relief floods Elio’s face.
Then Lori’s other hand snaps up from behind her back. A green-tinted blade flashes in the sunlight as Lori—or rather Iris—drives it deep into Ezra’s side.
My mouth opens on a horrified shriek. “No!”
The others move at once, but it’s too late.
Ezra jerks his hand away from her, and something comes with it.
A black, writhing shape hangs suspended in his grip, no bigger than an eel, its body made of smoke. It thrashes violently, twisting around itself as though trying to escape Ezra and burrow back into Lori.
The air vibrates with a foul hiss as cracks spread through the dark worm, then it flakes apart into black ash and drifting wisps, dissolving into nothingness.
Lori slumps against the ground, her body going limp, like someone flipped a switch.
I rush to Ezra.
The green-tinted blade buried in his stomach freezes my blood.
Before I know it, my hands are digging it out of his stomach, and a frosty, desperate chill raises every hair on my body.
But Ezra smiles.
“Don’t cry, little fox. Maybe...maybe it’s better this way,” he says, his voice strained and labored and not at all like him.
“No. It’s not. It’s not. What are you saying? No.” I look desperately around at the gathered Fae. “Heal him. Please.”
No one moves.
Willow's face crumples. “We can’t. No one can.”
Ezra cups my cheek, and the world narrows until all I can see are his eyes. “Remember,” he whispers. “I choose you, Max. Every time.”
A ragged wheeze escapes his lungs, and his hollow gaze slips past me.
His pupils dilate.
The hand on my cheek goes slack.
No.
No, no, no.
No.
A shimmering blue light rises from his body, edging toward me, his blood sinking inside my palm. The cold aura of death beckons.
“No!” I crawl backwards several feet, away from him, away from Ezra’s soul.
“Who are you? Why does his soul respond to you?” Elio asks in a throaty, desperate drawl.
“Stop it, please,” I cry out.
My heart is broken. My spirit is in tatters. I don’t want to consume his soul like I unwittingly did with the others. I won’t.
Elio steps between Ezra’s soul and me. The ice of the reaper king tempers the flames slithering over my skin, and the sudden shift spooks the blue light, causing it to pause.
“I’m so sorry, brother. Truly.” He moves to catch the soul, but the light shoots down through a water hole carved in the stone and vanishes.
Elio frowns. “What the—”
“Where did he go?” Lori asks, climbing unsteadily to her feet, echoing the howl in my own heart.
I wish I could burn her for what she did. Whoever it was.
Elio’s lips press together, his eyes shining with tears. “I don’t know.”