Page 92 of A Courage of the Chosen

“I-I . . .” she stutters. Then swallows. “Coincidence.”

“Mmhmm. And was it a coincidence that you were seen sneaking into Lord Renfrow’s residence after the ball?” I challenge.

“You had us followed?” Lord Haddow’s voice is subdued, a glum undertone sitting behind his words.

“I did.” My reply is unapologetic.

“Hume now awaits trial for his crimes against this kingdom in the palace dungeons,” Callahan interjects coolly. “I arrested him myself last night. It was all in the basement of his home, and the Girvan was the only route on his map highlighted in red. Not only that, there were Dorche soldiers hiding there, and he’d been tearing apart our flame creeper grenades, instructing Raghnall on how to build his own.”

Lady Calder gasps, and Lord Haddow runs his fingers over his mustache, a tic he does when there’s a lot going on and he doesn’t know how to process it.

Callahan shifts from angry to solemn in the space of a heartbeat. “I wish I could say they were the worst of his crimes.”

I rise from my seat, bringing some of my power with me.

Mist and light gather around my arms as static trickles throughout the rest of the room.

“I will give you one opportunity to speak the truth, Lady Navin. One opportunity to tell us why you betrayed your kingdom and your people.”

I’m not a cruel or violent person, but as I hold Lady Navin’s stricken gaze, cold spills through my veins. Quiet and unseen, it slowly drags me into those deep and unfamiliar places where my beast waits for me in the frost.

“Why?” My question is quiet. Soft and lethal and restrained.

She drops her composure entirely, mouth stretching into a snarl. “Because of you.”

Lady Navin pushes up, stepping toward me as she gathers her own magic. Mist spills from underneath her gown, and knife-like nails form at the end of her tightly clenched fists.

Callahan moves to place himself in her path.

“This is my battle, Cal. Let me fight it.” The silent request is accompanied by a hand on his shoulder.

“Fine. But if she touches you, I will not be held accountable for my actions.”

“You came in here and laid claim to the throne with a magic you can barely control, expecting us to believe your little story. A Seelie born in the human world, with a lost princess for a grandmother. The Darrows’ time has ended. They were too weak when the Dorche first attacked, and now a greater power has risen. And I chose the side that’s going to win.”

“Shona,” Lady Calder draws her attention. “You would really side with them?”

“Over this?” Lady Navin laughs, and she throws a hand in my direction. “Over a band of rebels that have barely held on, and a war that we cannot hope to win? Yes. I would side with them. And I’d do it all over again if it means I get to live.”

My magic bursts from me. “You think he would let you live? That Raghnall will show you mercy because you were useful for a little bit?”

“I’m no fool. I was guaranteed a seat on his new council and to be left untouched,” she replies haughtily, like it should be obvious to us.

I snort at her delusion. “And who made you this guarantee? Hume?”

The hard set of her jaw answers the question.

“Hume has no power with him. He’s Raghnall’s lapdog at best. A means to an end. Whatever promise he made you is built on lies. Just like the rest of it.”

Light crawls across the ground toward her. She has the good sense to step away from it. And from me.

I can’t stop as I tumble down, down, down into the well of my power. “Raghnall is not merciful. He would corrupt you without second thought, and then what kind of life would you have?”

More oozes from my skin, every pore a faucet with no stopper. The edges of my vision turn white and the magic woven into the air itself slowly becomes visible.

Come to me, it sings, as that frozen place in my soul where the worst version of me resides lulls me in. Let me free, and you can show them who you really are. Let me free.

I want to. Dhia, do I want to rest for just a moment and let this bloodthirsty creature take over, putting an end to the ceaseless control I hold over myself.