Page 148 of The Reaping Rose

I am not only human.

I am not only Fae.

For so long, I’ve feared that by claiming one side of myself, it would mean I couldn’t be the other. I worried that by being Wilder’s queen, I could not care about Lyrichia. That by being Fae, I would not be my father’s daughter.

That’s not true. I can be both.

I am both.

Where I find weakness, I also find strength. Maybe I forgot that in the Ley Court, surrounded by extraordinary powers. Maybe I forgot that here, being stripped of what didn’t always exist. But with the dagger in my hand, I’m reminded that it is not my magic in my veins that makes me strong. It is what I choose to do with it.

And I choose to fight whether my magic burrows or flourishes. I choose to fight and never break for anything.

Deep in the black chasm once lit by thousands of sparkling threads, something warms. A path opens, surprising me. A golden spark of emotion floods my heart.

Since being in the Mortal Realm, I’ve sent Wilder my frustration. My fear. My loneliness. Finally, a responding message comes through. And it is not that of worry or dread. It is a calming caress of love that settles in my bones.

A whisper in the depths of our bind, calling out to me.

“I sense your fear, Starfire. But you have nothing to be afraid of. Fear is only for those who step in your path. Show them how bright you burn.”

My fingers wrap the handle tighter, and Callum’s gaze drops behind me in time to catch the glint of the blade at my back. Our eyes connect just as Esen eases the void ever so slightly, allowing me to breathe deeper.

Overlord Farseth’s eyebrows pinch, but Callum is too quick. Even with our magic muted, he burrows into the depths of what he has. He moves with lightning speed, flashing across the room until he is in front of the overlord.

Callum’s hand grips the overlord’s wrist that is holding the knife to Perame’s throat, stopping it from slicing into her. He manages to pull it away, and she stumbles to the ground.

Every part of me wants to go to her, but I can’t. Not yet.

I move quicker than I ever have as I aim for Overlord Farseth’s other hand. Gripping his wrist, I slam it against the wall behind him and shove the blade through three of his fingers. The ring that binds Esen to the overlord clatters to the ground in a mess of flesh and bone.

The moment the connection breaks, the void lifts.

The weight dissipates.

Esen pulls off her own ring, tossing it aside, while the overlord struggles against Callum’s grip. He holds his hand out for the dagger, and he doesn’t hesitate when I place it into his palm. Without a drop of magic, he drives the blade through the overlord’s heart.

Overlord Farseth grins a final time, his eyes on Esen as his soul leaves his body.

Yelling intensifies outside. Even in the depths of this dungeon, the clatter of hooves on dirt perks my dulled Fae senses.

Spinning, I find Esen on the ground, cradling Perame’s head in her lap.

“She’s breathing.” Esen looks up at me. “But barely. And the overlord wasn’t lying. The queen’s troops have received word of Fae in the territory. They’re coming for you.”

“Then we need to go.”

“I’m going with you,” Esen says, brushing Perame’s hair off her face.

“You don’t have to,” I say, even though I know that if she doesn’t, it will doom our realm. “You’re free now. You shouldn’t be used like this. Not anymore.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve already destroyed so much. I need to make something right. I want to help. Maybe this is my chance. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try.”

I swallow hard, nodding. “Then let’s go.”

Callum is the first to move. A storm of wind surges in the room. He shudders a breath because he used too much magic rushing the overlord, and what little we can access in this realm has yet to recover. He lifts Perame into his arms, then holds a hand out for Esen.

She eyes the offering like she’s never been handed anything that wouldn’t inevitably hurt her. A weight leaves her shoulders as she accepts his help.