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.
