The War of Two Queens (Blood and Ash 4)

Isbeth smoothed a palm over Malec’s cheek, her hand trembling as she bent over him more, her mouth inches from his dry, pale lips. “I love you now as much as I loved you then when our eyes first met in the rose gardens. I will always love you, Malec. Always.”

I shifted under the weight of the raw tide of emotion that Isbeth did nothing to shield. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving faint tracks in the pale powder she wore.

“You know that, right?” Her voice had lowered as she reached for the jeweled belt at her waist. “You have to, even now, as you sleep so deeply. You have to know how much I love you.” Isbeth’s fingers trailed down the side of his neck as she pressed a kiss to his still lips.

“That’s really disgusting,” muttered Emil.

It was.

And it was also sad. As terrible and evil to the core as Isbeth was, she still loved deeply and painfully. It would hurt even more when she realized that we had no intention of allowing her to keep him.

“Fuckboy is awake,” Kieran muttered as Callum slowly climbed to his feet. “Heads up.”

Casteel reached between us, folding his hand around mine. He winked at me, and other than proving that he could pull that off without looking ridiculous, it was a sign. It was time. Looking away from the sad scene playing out before us, I narrowed my senses until I could only feel the notam and searched out Sage’s fresh rain imprint—

“And that’s why… That’s why you have to understand,” Isbeth said to Malec’s sleeping form. “You know how much I loved our son. You understand why it must be like this. That it cannot be any other way.”

Concentration broken, my head jerked toward Isbeth at the same moment as Millicent’s. Isbeth jerked her arm up. Casteel pulled me to his side at the first glint of shadowstone. The jeweled belt at her waist had hidden a shadowstone dagger. I tapped into the eather, worried that she would turn that dagger on any number of people standing near—

Isbeth screamed—and, gods, that was the sound of pure anguish. She brought the dagger down—into Malec’s chest. His heart.

My mouth dropped open.

Isbeth had…

She’d stabbed Malec in the heart with shadowstone.

Shadowstone could kill a god. I remembered Reaver saying as much.

What we’d just witnessed didn’t make sense. Not in any realm. But she had…she had killed Malec. Her heartmate.

“What in the actual fuck?” exclaimed Casteel, dropping my hand as Millicent staggered back, her eyes going wide.

Kieran cursed as Isbeth jerked her hands free of the dagger. Her body folded over Malec’s. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she wept. “I’m so sorry.”

My arms fell to my sides. The shock of seeing the glimmering, ruby-encrusted hilt jutting from Malec’s chest rooted me to where I stood. And that astonishment rolled, coming in waves from all who witnessed it—all except one.

The golden, now-bloody Revenant.

Callum smiled.

A nearly overwhelming sense of dread exploded in my chest as Callum slowly turned his head toward me. He clasped his hands together, bowing. “Thank you.”

The essence stirred violently. I reached out, clasping Casteel’s arm.

“Thank you for doing what you were prophesied to do long ago. Thank you for fulfilling your purpose, Harbinger.” Callum’s pale eyes brightened behind the golden mask, and the eather, it thrummed through my veins. “It wasn’t exactly as foretold or how many of us understood, but prophecies…well, the details aren’t always exact, and interpretations do vary.”

“I don’t understand,” Millicent said, her wide-eyed gaze darting between Callum and our mother.

“What is it that you don’t understand?”

“Everything,” she seethed. “Everything about what just happened.”

“You mean what could’ve happened to you if you hadn’t been a failure?” Callum countered, and Malik shot forward, blocked only by Casteel, who was simply faster. “You would’ve bled for him, and he would’ve rewarded you greatly for it.”

Millicent drew back, her skin paling under the mask. Her stare hit mine, and suddenly, I understood. Mouth dry, my gaze fell to Malec. “That was supposed to be me, wasn’t it?”

“You succeeded where she didn’t,” Callum said. “And I’ve been waiting a long time for you. He’s been waiting for the sacrifice. The balance the Arae always insist upon. Waiting for the one born of mortal flesh, on the verge of becoming a great Primal power. You arrived as promised, but…” He extended his arm. “But you weren’t the only one. As long as both shared the blood of the Primal of Life and were loved, it would restore him. She just needed you—someone of his bloodline—to find Malec. We all know that Ires surely wouldn’t have done that. We’d have had to free him. And, well, he’s kind of…pissy, to say the least.”

“What in the hell?” demanded Naill.

Callum cocked his head. “I just didn’t think she’d do that. Not until she asked for him. And even then, I truly didn’t think she would go through with it, to be honest.” He laughed. “I thought it would be a fifty-fifty shot on who she chose. You. Or Malec.”