They crossed the Throne Room in silence and took the two seats opposite her. The singular flame cast a red glow, illuminating half of Shadow in the otherwise darkened room.
“As I said, I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said, leaning forward to pour a large goblet of wine. Her pale white hair draped across the table, long and healthy.
“Funny thing,” said Shadow after a long sip of her wine. “You were in my head.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, the movement slow and precise.
“I was,” answered Maeve plainly.
“Please drink,” said Shadow, suddenly alert. Then her expression twisted, and her eyes landed on Reeve. “I haven’t poisoned any of the goblets.” She smiled and brought her gaze back to Maeve expectantly. “Drink.”
The second command was less inviting and more demanding. Maeve didn’t move.
“I don’t drink,” she replied.
Shadow leaned back, bringing her wine glass back with her, nearly sloshing it carelessly over the rim. “How could I forget? The Dread Viper is so afraid to be out of control.” She paused and looked to the empty seat beside her. Then her eyes snapped back to Maeve. “You weren’t very helpful in my mind.”
“No?” answered Maeve.
“No,” repeated Shadow. “In fact, I’m worried I took things too far with our dear Mal. I don’t think he’s. . . capable anymore.” Her lips puckered, and her nearly invisible white brows pulled together. “It’s not fair he gave you the heir.”
“Maxius will never wear that crown,” said Maeve with certainty.
Shadow sipped her wine, a long silence falling between the three of them. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Maeve shook her head casually. “No. Oh, that reminds me.” She rested her head against the tall back of the chair and rolled her head towards Reeve. “Do we actually have to eat?”
“No,” replied Reeve, a small smile on his lips as he took in just how effortlessly and fearlessly Maeve controlled the room. “In fact,” he said, playing into her brazen display, “you can drink that wine and not feel a thing. Might as well be water.”
The corners of Maeve’s mouth pulled up, and together they returned their attention to Shadow.
She giggled. “So emboldened, isn’t she, Mal, darling?”
As his name rolled off her tongue, the affectionate name reserved only for those he deemed worthy of calling him such, swirling black mist materialized in the empty chair at her side. In its wake sat Mal. Mordred appeared at his side, as he had been since nearly the moment they met.
If Mely’s appearance had been corpse-like, then Mal was already six feet under.
His eyes were still a sharp green against his devastatingly pale skin, but they were dull. The glow they’d once carried under Shadow’s possession was gone. His cheeks were hollowed, dippinginto sunken shadows of decay. His fingers, once a deadly weapon, sat useless in his lap. Thin skin covered each knuckle and bone.
Maeve clung to the image of him in her mind when they’d last spoken. Just as she’d promised she would. But the sight of just how close to death Shadow had dragged him allowed wrath to root inside Maeve.
Maeve’s attention slid back to Shadow, unable to waste any more time now that Mal was before her.
“I’ll make this quick today.”
Her arm jetted forward, her Magic latching onto Shadow’s mind. She dug deep, finding the claws of Shadow Magic latched in Mal’s psyche, and began disintegrating them one by one. With lethal force, she ripped the connections of poison in his mind from the beast feeding off him.
Shadow’s hands slammed onto the table between them, as she bent forward like a wounded animal. Her face of disbelief twisted into horror as Maeve successfully infiltrated her mind and controlled it. With a bang, one of the endless claws embedded in Mal’s mind released.
A wave of negative energy surged through Maeve. It was vile and turned her insides to ice.
Mordred growled in uncertainty. Maeve almost admired his loyalty. Almost. Mordred had not protected Mal from the evil woman at his side any more than she had.
She glanced quickly at Mal and wondered if the version of him before her even recalled the conversation and the plans she’d laid out to him in their connected minds.
She returned her eyes to Shadow.
“How?” Shadow seethed, all teeth and breath, fury now radiating from her at Maeve’s power. Her long, pale nails dug into the table.
BANG. Another claw triumphantly destroyed.
