Page 195 of Tale of the Heart Queen

“Any bright ideas, Aurora Prince? Can we go back out there? Do you think this is a circle and those animals are just looping back around?”

“Let’s wait and see if they return. Then we’ll find a way to scale the other side.”

I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them as Nadir scoots in next to me.

Our surroundings are deathly quiet. There’s no evidence of the stampede at all, and I have a sick sense something even more awful is about to happen.

I look up at Nadir, and I see the same thing reflected in his eyes. I take his hand and squeeze it, understanding this has become a moment of reckoning for us both. Since the day I was taken from The Woodlands, I’ve been tested over and over, often without even realizing it. This moment is testing everything we are and everything we are yet to become. If we survive this, neither of us will ever be the same.

We huddle together and I think of Tristan and Willow. Of Amya and Mael. Of Gabriel and the others, hoping we’ll see them again. I look at Nadir, aching for the chance to just be with him. To escape the sword that’s been dangling over our heads since the day we met.

We both peer out into the canyon, listening to the stillness, inhaling the scent of a bitter, ominous wind.

That’s when the back of the cavern drops away and we tumble back.

And then we’re falling.

CHAPTER 68

RION

THE UNDERWORLD

Rion stood beside the Lord of the Underworld with his wrists bound in arcturite. Herric had allowed him out of his cage only so he could observe the spectacle happening below and bear witness to the fruits of his actions.

Rion seethed with indignant rage at Herric’s trickery, though he was doing his best to conceal it. The ark was visible tucked into Herric’s belt, and how he itched to take back his only bit of leverage.

He hadn’t been thinking straight when he’d stormed down here believing he could order the lord to do anything. The drink had dulled his senses and scrambled his thoughts. If he got out of here alive, he’d never touch the stuff again.

Despite himself, Rion couldn’t help but watch. He’d seen his son fight off a pack of bears standing back to back with the girl. Watched them comfort each other. Tend one another’s wounds. They, too, wore arcturite cuffs, but Rion knew the truth about her. Had that been a one-time occurrence, or was she truly immune to their effects?

Rion could have shared this tidbit with Herric, but after the lord had tossed him into a cage and stolen the ark, he wasn’t feeling all that amenable.

Despite Nadir’s warnings, the girl swallowed a poisoned berry, and they all cringed as she vomited it back up. Then she threw herself into the canyon full of stone spikes with barely a moment of hesitation.

All to protect Nadir.

He wondered if the girl was addled in the head. Even if Herric technically wasn’t trying to kill her, it still required overcoming a significant mental barrier to put yourself in harm’s way. But she seemed fearless. Unstoppable. And the way she looked at his son . . . even from this distance, he could see how much she cared for him.

Rion dragged his gaze towards Rachel, who sat beside him, her hands folded on her lap, her expression devoid of emotion.

“How are you?” Rion asked, settling into his seat. She turned to him and blinked.

“I’m well. Thank you.”

After Herric had freed Rion from his cage, he had also released Rachel into his care. He’d tried to coax her into speaking and share what she’d been doing for all these years, but all he got were these insipid platitudes.

He took her hand, wrapping it with his. It was cold and thin. She’d lost weight since he’d last seen her. He’d always loved her curves and the way her hips sloped. When he got her out of here, he’d do everything he could to nurse her back to health. “Rachel, tell me what happened. Why did you turn to a life of crime? You had everything you needed from me,” he pressed, and once again, she slowly turned to him.

“I don’t remember,” she said. The same answer he’d gotten numerous times already.

“Did you think of me?” he asked, verging on a flimsy line of desperation. He’d spent his life pining after her, and he needed to know he’d figured into her existence in some way.

She tipped her head, studying Rion from head to toe. “I remember the smell of butterscotch,” she said, and a feeble hope flared in his chest. She did remember him.

“Yes. Do you recall that week we spent in the Cinta Wilds? My father had taken ill, and I’d finally pushed through the bill to conscript the low fae to the mines. We decided to get away for a short while.” He continued talking, describing the cabin and the sound of the wind howling through the trees and the patter of rain. The feel of sunshine on their skin. He remembered every detail like it was yesterday.

When he stopped, he stared at her, willing her to react.