Page 177 of Tale of the Heart Queen

But I did mean it, so I won’t hesitate. This might truly be the end, but I have to try. I could never live with myself otherwise. I’d rather be dead than live in a world without her. I refuse to let her down.

“Wait here,” I tell Morana and Khione. They whine in protest, but they obey the command as I take a step, crossing into the unknown. With my sword raised at the ready, I touch the walls, my fingers coming away coated with a layer of shimmering dust. My mind spins with the sheer impossibility of all of this, but it’s here, and it’s real.

“Lor,” I whisper. “I’m coming. Hold on, my queen. My heart. My mate. I’m coming.”

With one look back over my shoulder, I take a deep breath and plunge into the tunnel, hoping there’s the slightest chance we’re ever coming back out.

CHAPTER 62

LOR

When I wake up, the world is a bright flash of white. My head pounds to the drone of voices and the rhythmic thumping of . . . music? My hip aches from lying on the hard floor. It takes a moment to summon the strength to lift myself up. Still wearing my red dress, I shiver from a chill that skates down the back of my neck.

As my vision clears, the sight that greets me makes absolutely no sense. I’m in the biggest cavern I’ve ever seen. The rough stone walls shimmer with iridescence like they’ve been coated with fairy dust.

And the people—the people. Hundreds of them mill about on a field of shiny black, silver, and white tiles, drinking, eating, and chatting. They wear the most outlandish costumes, also in black and white and in patterns like stripes and checks, their heads and shoulders adorned with feathers and silver-plated armor and their faces painted with colorful makeup.

Some wear heads or masks that render them into animals like lions, elephants, or serpents. Dread pools in my stomach, burning like a puddle of acid. It’s both beautiful and horrific. It’s also a sign that wherever I am, I’m totally fucked.

As if the sight before me weren’t alarming enough, the fact that I appear to be locked in some kind of swinging cage churns bile up the back of my throat. I try not to hyperventilate as it pitches back and forth, making the world spin.

Suddenly, the music cuts off, and everything below me grinds to an abrupt halt. The silence sends a shiver down my back as I cling to the bars, sucking in deep breaths, trying to prevent myself from passing out.

That’s when I hear footsteps. Click . . . Click . . . Click.

A male High Fae approaches me. He wears fitted leather from head to toe, everything of the deepest black. His long dark hair falls past his shoulders, and his dark eyes are ringed with smudges of black.

He’s familiar in a way that feels distant but also much too close.

Fucking fuck. This is not good. I lurch up onto my knees, causing my cage to sway and jerk with enough force that I nearly tip over. I peer down as the man draws closer. I note his pointed ears and his devious smile that has my blood running cold. I know that face.

“Welcome,” he says as he comes to a stop below me. “I’m so glad you could join us in the Underworld Court.”

I almost choke on my tongue at that announcement, but why should I be surprised by anything anymore? I’ve met Zerra, killed my mate, and been to the Evanescence, where I’m being groomed to become a god.

Why shouldn’t I now find myself in the literal pits of hell?

“How did I get here?” I ask, trying to drag up the last thing I remember. The bonding with Nadir, searching for Willow, finding Rion in the tunnel, his dark magic, and then everything going black.

“Willow,” I shout. “Where is my sister?”

Herric’s face twists into disdain, and he gestures across the room. “You might have to ask him.”

My hands tighten on the bars as I look across the space. Rion sits at the bottom of a cage matching mine, his legs up and his arms wrapped around them. That fucking bastard took Willow. He brought me here. Our gazes meet, and I don’t understand what I read in his expression. If he did anything to my sister, there is no limit to the suffering I will visit upon him.

But I see no anger or hate.

None of that cold, brutal arrogance I remember every time I close my eyes.

There is nothing left as if he’s become only a brittle shell of the Aurora King.

“Then why am I here?” I demand, turning back to Herric.

“Ah, that is the right question, isn’t it?”

He strolls a few paces before he spins and walks back slowly, every step deliberate.

Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe.