AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Twenty-Six
Shocked by her admission, I flung my arms wide, then squeezed my hands back together to bind her in place. “What do you mean it should be you? Explain. Now!”
“My mother knew all about his world… the Weaver and his partner. I’ve studied her writings for years, all so I could find him within my dreams and become his Queen of Nightmares. But then he found you,” she spat. “I knew the moment he’d chosen someone else. I could feel it ripple through the night, smashing all my hopes and dreams.” She dropped her head. “I could tell it was you the moment you stepped into my store. But you don’t deserve the title. From what you’ve shared, you’re too much of a goody-two-shoes to accept that your part of the magic is what brings people’s nightmares to life.” She lifted her head, her yellow-green eyes flaring again. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the bad things happening in the dreamscape after you accepted your role. You can’t possibly be that naive.”
I gasped, my hold on her waning. She’d hit the core of my deepest, darkest fear. I had read what the book said about the Queen of Nightmares but refused to believe it was coming from me. Roarke wouldn’t have purposely turned my magic dark to balance out his own. It simply couldn’t be true.
“You’re lying.” I tightened my grip on her again, holding her in place.
“I’m not, and I think deep down you know it. You’re not cut out to be his queen.”
“What, and you are?” I snapped back.
“Yes! My mother might not have been a Weaver or his queen, but she knew all about him, and that makes me far more prepared than you.” She cocked her head. “So why don’t you crawl back home to your hidey-hole in Rhode Island and relinquish your title and Weaver magic to me?”
Relinquish my Weaver magic? I’d cringed at the thought before, but it was still my choice—to remain Roarke’s Queen of Nightmares or to simply walk away. He’d always told me it was up to me. My decision as to whether I wanted this life or not. And so far, I had. I’d chosen yes to all he offered. But now, with Isabelle confirming my fears, I wasn’t so sure. Could I really enter the dreamscape every night, knowing I was truly the cause of everything bad that happened there?
My chest heaved, my breathing turning rapid and shallow. I wasn’t sure I could do this anymore. Honestly, I knew I couldn’t. I simply wasn’t strong enough to deal with the guilt.
“Fine. But even if I walk away, it doesn’t mean you will automatically become his queen. There are plenty of other witches out there that are stronger and more deserving than you.”
Isabelle watched me through her power-fueled eyes, her head tilting from side to side. “Why do you think I’ve been testing the gate? Once my energy has been recognized there, it will only take you stepping down for me to become his new queen.”
I suspected she had been the one trying to access the Weaver’s magic, but my thoughts on why had been completely wrong. I thought she simply wanted the power for herself, but in reality, she wanted the gods to recognize her as his rightful queen.
I thought about Roarke and how he was going to process all this, and a tear rolled down my cheek.
“Aww, don’t cry. It won’t hurt a bit. All you have to do is tell your Weaver that you’ve chosen to walk away, and just like that, you’ll be stripped of your connection and can go back to living your normal, fairy-tale life.”
I peered into Isabelle’s sick eyes, oddly crushed that she turned out to be such a vicious, mean-hearted person. “Your mother would be ashamed of you.”
I fell forward, a hard yank tugging at my control.
Isabelle stood, fighting with all she had against my magic. “How dare you speak of her? Just because you read a few books she wrote doesn’t mean you knew her at all. She was always so protective of her information and her sources. None of us kids were ever interesting enough to occupy her time. But as I grew older, I read her books and studied all the things she had offered to the public but not me. And I grew strong. I honed my own brand of magic and carved out a spot in her world just for me. And even then… she couldn’t even say she was proud of me before she died. Just that she loved us all and to stay protected and safe in this crazy, unpredictable world.”
She took a step forward, fighting through my spell. “That was it! Just love you… Stay safe. Not here are the tools you need to change the world. Or, Isabelle, you can be so much more…” She trailed off, looking around her shop, lost in the despair of her mother’s contempt.
But I didn’t think that was what it was.
“Isabelle, you may think she didn’t care, but the fact that she protected you from this world proves that she did. Magic comes with a price, and maybe she just couldn’t stand the thought of any of you having to pay that.”
She scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re a hereditary witch. Blessed by your ancestors and bound to carry on their magic with no price at all.”
“I lost my mother too!” I screamed. “That’s price enough!”
Isabelle fought against my magic, step after step, until she was halfway across the floor. With one final push, I bound her again, dropping her back to her knees. Grabbing my bag and book, I raced out of the shop, her cries echoing behind me.
“Walk away, Milly. I’ll be waiting to take your place.”
I burst into the library three and a half hours later, dropping to the floor and tossing Keelyn’s keys away.
“Milly, honey, my god! What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Keelyn rushed to my side, picking me up and shuffling us into a nearby room.
The long, wood meeting table was shiny and polished, gleaming and welcoming, which made me cry even harder.
“Honey, please calm down. Have a seat.” Keelyn eased me into the nearest chair, kneeling to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Okay. Now take a deep breath and tell me what’s happened.”
I looked up into her ice-blue eyes, and my heart broke a little more. “I can’t. You wouldn’t understand.”
