Page 119 of The Reaping Rose

“Her body is resisting it.” Rior drops down beside me, flipping her palm over. “It’s eating her skin.”

Blood dots the sheet where her hand was resting.

“We need to take it off,” Rior says.

I shake my head. “If we take it off, she’ll die. Humans can’t withstand the surge of magic.”

“She can’t withstand this,” Rior says as Letia screams again.

He’s right; I know he’s right. Either way, she’s facing death.

“We have to do something,” Rior pushes.

Do something.

That’s been my problem lately. With Elorie, my crown, my people.

I left the prison, but I never stepped forward. I never started fighting for something again.

I need to do something.

“Wilder.” Rior’s voice drops, and I meet his gaze.

“You’re right.” I touch the ring, and Letia winces. “We can try to switch it to her other hand, but we have to move fast.”

Rior nods, holding Letia in place while I grab her hand.

I close my eyes and cling to the fading remnant of hope my mate sent through the thread. I cling to the role I need to step into—the risks I need to take if I’m going to win this fight. I grip the ring, which bites at my magic as I touch it, and I pull it off Letia’s finger, while her scream pierces the stars.

Chapter 40

Callum

Music adds a joyful tune to the rowdy chatter at the tavern. Unlike the stringed instruments that are popular in the Ley Court, human music is more rambunctious. Beating drums and large brass tubes offer rich vibrations.

Villagers dance before the stage, encouraging the musicians to play even louder.

It makes listening in on conversations difficult, although not impossible, from where I sit on the farthest stool from the door. My hood is pulled up over my ears as I watch the night descend into chaos.

It’s been days since we’ve gotten anywhere close to Esen. Rumor has it that Overlord Farseth has her locked in a manor at the far end of town, but there’s been no sight of her. The other night, I scoped the perimeter from the edge of the forest, finding a steady guard on rotation.

A strange pulse emanates from the ivy-covered stone building. The void mixed with something else. It’s clear the overlord is tampering with more magic than just Esen’s, but to what extent, I don’t know.

After abandoning us at the parade, I continued to follow the carriage down the cobblestone street. Not once did Esen meet the overlord’s gaze. When he touched her, she flinched. She dislikes him, and yet, she made it clear she won’t help us. Even if she wanted to, there’s the magical tie that binds her to him, preventing it.

Elorie seems convinced we’ll figure out a way to break through to her, and I hope she’s right.

Dragging a human through the Arch won’t work. Especially when she wields the void. Her resistance will do nothing but make us vulnerable when we face Malachi. We need her on our side.

The song changes, and one group of humans cheers while another tosses peanuts at the stage. The musicians don’t miss a beat, continuing to play regardless of the crowd’s reaction.

I pull my hood back a little farther, focusing through the rattle of instruments and the conversations happening between the beats. While Elorie and Perame plot how to convince Esen to help us, I scour the town for information.

At a far table, the mention of Fae pricks my ears, so I tunnel my attention to that conversation.

“He’s paranoid; there’s no other explanation. The Arch to the Fae realms closed over a century ago. They spread this rot and left, but they have nothing to do with what happens now.” A dark-haired man at the table leans back in his seat, taking a sip of his beer.

“Brave to call the overlord paranoid. His men have been known to slaughter for less, and I hear he has spies everywhere.” His friend chuckles.