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“You’re welcome. Now, to the stories of yorks. They are an entity, meaning they aren’t quite real, but they can take the form of those who have passed on. The stories say the way to kill them is to wait until they take a form, and then someone who has the ability to absorb the same way they do, or in the form of the way they do, has to absorb them. Where they take the lifeforce, you need someone to take theirs.”
“I can do that.”
“No, you cannot risk that. Have you forgotten something?” He motions to my stomach. “The heartbeat is loud. And while I get the feeling you haven’t told anyone yet, people will be hearing it soon, and you are starting to show.” I look down at my stomach and notice a small bump. “Your wolves will hear it soon enough.”
“Possibly,” I tell him. “Thank you. I won’t drop in like this again.”
He waves me off. “You are always welcome wherever I am, but next time, try to aim for the other side of the door.” He winks, and I smile before I leave.
When I get back, everyone is standing where I left them, waiting for me. It’s utterly still and silent.
“He only knew of myths,” I tell John.
Tatiana walks over and grips his arm.
“Myths?” he questions, confused.
“They aren’t from this world,” I remind him.
“Okay. So what did he know?”
“That the way to kill one is the same way they kill… by taking what is theirs.” I turn toward it, and as it locks eyes with me, it morphs into Max. He smiles, and I want to run over and hold his hand and let him wrap his arms around me so tightly I can’t breathe. Everything in me wants that, but I remain where I am, knowing full well that thing is not Max.
“You can’t do it. It could kill you. We aren’t even sure that’s the right way to kill it,” Tatiana says. “You could die. We can’t go out to help you either. We can’t risk it. We need to find another way.”
“And let it keep luring people out?” I push.
She shrugs. “If they are silly enough to believe it, knowing what it does, we can’t stop that.”
“I don’t want people to die,” I whisper.
“You killed enough yourself,” one of the wolves says.
I wince at the hate in its voice.
“That’s enough,” John roars. The witches look at him before they focus on me. “You will respect Talia,” he says. “She is queen.” Everyone goes quiet. The witches nod their heads in agreement, but the wolves grumble in discontentment.
“She is not our queen.”
“But she is,” he argues. “She is queen to us all, and you will respect her, or you will be at her mercy. We wanted a ruler who would be fair, and this is what we got.”
“You are our ruler,” one of the wolves says.
“I am your alpha, and I will always be, but this is our queen.” Someone starts clapping, and we all turn to see who it is. When the crowd parts, we see Valefar grinning at us.
“What a great speech. And it’s expected for every queen to go a little crazy like your new one did. I mean, she did almost destroy an entire race.” He smiles and looks at Melvon. “Tell me, do you hate your new queen?” Everyone waits to hear what Melvon will say.
He turns from Valefar and faces me. “She is our queen,” he says.
“That wasn’t the question I asked. But that is enough of an answer for me to know you do,” Valefar states.
Tanya turns her confused expression on Melvon, then reaches for him. He leans down and whispers in her ear, and she shakes her head at his words and looks back at me.
Valefar turns to study the york. When he does, it transforms from Max into an unfamiliar man. Valefar approaches the barrier, careful not to come into contact with it. The york says his name and reaches for him.
“I heard Father speaking of this,” he says and nods to it. “I wanted to see him one last time.” I come up and stop beside him. “He was a demon, an amazing one. Climbing up the ladder, as you might say.” He laughs. “I would dare say he could have given me a run for my money, but we all know that’s a lie. I’m amazing.” He winks at me and looks back at the york. “I loved him. As much as a demon can love someone with a black heart.”
“How did he die?” I ask.
“Witches,” he replies, his eyes still on the york. “They trapped him and killed him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What Father forgot to tell you, or perhaps didn’t know, is that in order to take from it as it does from you, you need to make it whole.” I wait for him to continue. “You think it’s whole when it takes the form of someone, but it’s not fully whole. You need to make it that way.”
