Maeve contracted her fingers, like choking the air in front of her, tightening her hold on Shadow’s throat. “Because I am simply better than you.” Her eyes narrowed. Then she said. “I freed you, remember? There is an Enslavement Curse on you still. Bound to me by the blood I traded for you.” Maeve looked up at Mal. His eyes slidto Shadow. Maeve followed his gaze to the gaunt queen, who looked back at her with her own blue eyes. “Or were you hoping I wouldn’t figure that out? That’s it is my blood that chains you now.”
More of Shadow’s sharp claws lifted from Mal’s mind.
Shadow smiled. “You think I won’t have his mind if you break my hold? Go on then. See just how much life I took from him. See just how little is left of him now. There is but an ounce of Dread Magic left in him. Consider it a gift from your queen, Mal darling, that I allow you to keep it.”
She truly had no idea, no understanding of what Maeve was capable of, or planning. Mal’s Dread Magic no longer mattered. Sealing Shadow once more was the goal, and then once Mal was safe and free from her possessive enslavement, she’d give him the Dread Magic, his Dread Magic, that ran through her veins. She’d siphon out the part of him imbued in the Dread Ring on her finger and forge it with Mal’s blood once more.
“So gracious,” said Maeve sourly, groaning as she snapped two more points of hold.
Shadow swallowed hard. “I’ve absorbed the life of countless Dread Magicals, even more power than that Aterna Magic you now have offers you.” Her teeth slid together. “Which makes me question how it is you hold my mind.”
Another claw, embedded deep, shattered.
“It’s taking everything I have,” said Maeve shakily, “but my Shadow Magic is greater than yours. I understand Magic in a way none before me has, since King Primus himself. I see it down to its smallest particle. The way it molds and bends. I see your Shadow Magic, the way it flows and mixes with your stolen Dread Magic. And ironically, I learned it all through you. Through your studies.” Maeve couldn’t help but smirk, her eyes darkening. “Though you didn’t grasp half the lessons. But I did. I was always top of the class, wasn’t I, Mal?” she said, letting her eyes shift to him.
“Second place at best, Sinclair,” he said, his voice breathy with relief as the dirty Magic eating his soul like maggots fell away bit by bit.
Another chain undone. Gods, she was so close. Her arm shook, her head was heavy, but his tone gave her renewed strength. Her Aterna Magic helped dull the poisonous effects of being so intertwinedwith Shadow’s mind, but she still strained to keep a hold on Shadow as the white queen pushed Dread Magic against Maeve’s Aterna.
Shadow shook, paralyzed beneath Maeve’s hold, and the reaction to their Magic fighting for dominance. “I was chosen by the Dread King of old because I was the most powerful Shadow Magical.”
If an artist of their age could have painted a portrait embodying Maeve Sinclair, they would have chosen the moment she said:
“You were the most powerful. Only for the single fact that I hadn’t been born.”
The final claw in Mal’s mind snapped. His eyes darkened with a crack of Magic, and he collapsed, slumping forward in his seat. Maeve lunged forward as Reeve moved for Mal. She propelled herself across the table, sliding between Mal and Shadow with a speed unseen by even Shadow’s sharpened senses. Mordred hollered, bounding towards Reeve, but Reeve understood his task, and no one would keep him from ensuring something entrusted to him as precious as securing Mal was a victory. In a single slice of Reeve’s fingers, the wolf’s throat slit wide. His legs buckled beneath him, and when he collapsed to the floor in a moving pool of red, he did not rise again.
With Mal at her back, Maeve’s fist collided with Shadow’s face, propelled by pure hatred as she ripped the Dread Crown from her head. Negative emotions were indeed required to harness the power of the Dread Stone, and Electric Magic barreled down her arm, faster than it ever had beneath the weight of her animosity. The hair draped across Maeve’s shoulders lifted, dancing with static. The burst of lightning that erupted from her was catastrophic, with all three pieces of the Dread Stone at her will. Arianna’s and Antony’s rings hummed in approval around her neck, working in perfect synchronicity with the one on her finger. As the blow landed on Shadow, the subsequent explosion burst through the wall of the Throne Room, exposing the hazy green sky as she blew a hole in Castle Morana. The lightning jetted into the dark clouds, scattering them with bright blue illumination.
Shadow had been thrown from the castle through the now crumbled exterior wall. Smoke settled into the Throne Room as Maeve turned back towards Reeve.
Mal looked so frail in his arms. So gone.
Reeve’s gaze lingered on hers for a moment longer than they had.
“Go,” she said, urgency in her tone, tossing the crown back at him.
Reeve didn’t disobey. He vanished in a swirl of violet fire just as his fingers closed around the silver band of serpents, and Maeve heaved a sigh when she felt both his and Mal’s Magic move to the other side of the barrier. She stepped across the rubble of the Throne Room, scattered marble and stone smoking, some still crackling with electricity, from the surge of energy.
She reached the edge of the floor, and below was a steep drop down to the unforgiving mountains below. No such fall could kill Shadow, but nor could it kill Maeve.
She stepped off the ledge with grace, falling from the Throne Room of the castle to face her enemy below. Icy particles of air attacked her face in her descent, but the warmth of her Aterna Magic disregarded them completely.
She’d never feel cold again.
Maeve slammed into the earth, a fall that would have broken her in the past. But now, with a body made new from the gods themselves, she landed with a bolt of Magic that felt effortless.
Shadow waited for her with a look of interest, toxic air hovering between them. She jerked beneath the lingering electric Magic, wounded and down. Before she could open her vile mouth, Maeve pulled her into her mind at once, a particularly heartfelt moment between Nevian and Shadow ready for viewing. Shadow froze. Her big blue eyes held a disturbed look, like she was both uncomfortable and entranced.
Maeve’s voice was smooth. “I understand a vow forged in revenge. Especially with what they did to Nevian.”
Shadow’s eyes widened only slightly, her attention locked on the memory before them.
“Though Mal does look like your precious Prince Darius, doesn’t he?” She allowed Shadow a small moment of further shock before continuing. “I’ve seen the memories that linger in your mind. I’ve seen what they did to Nevian while you were forced to watch. And I’ve seen what you did to Darius.”
Shadow smiled, but it was cracked and bleeding with disbelief. “It is but a life that once was.”
“It is the life you were denied. That we have in common,” said Maeve.
