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London is still laughing when our feet touch the ground on the other side, only this time we’re in the Faelific Fortress. My smile falls when I notice my mother standing on the opposite side as if waiting. She probably was, but I know that Creed wouldn’t dump her ass in here and allow her to have her powers. She may be royal, but she, in fact, is not stronger than London. London isn’t only going to be the new Queen, she’smatedto a royal, which makes her infinitely stronger than Mother.
“So, I guess you would like me to explain?” She pretends to clean beneath her nails, slowly lowering herself down onto a large boulder that sits right in front of the waterfall.
“You don’t really have to,” I say, holding her stare. “The answer has been there all along, but unfortunately for us, it took a while to catch on.”
London’s hand comes to mine, stopping me, and Mother’s eyes flash to the connection. Agitation etches over her skin, and it’s the first time I’ve noticed how much she has aged. As though fate started draining all that she has the second London ascended.
“She can do her worst...”
“She already has.” I tilt my head and everyone around me falls silent. “Are you going to tell them, or should I?”
Legend is the first to shift, moving slightly in front of me. I don’t miss the little shadow that’s on the other side of him too. Seems London’s little friend is hanging around for the drama too, not just the blood.
“What’s he talking about?” her youngest son demands.
Our mother straightens her shoulders and raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. The energy around her shifts in that moment, and suddenly the colors in the fortress fall to anemic shades of sepia.
“I hated him,” she says simply.
A growl grows in my chest, anger gripping me around my neck.
She continues, “And he deserved to die.”
Sinner moves so fast that I miss him when his hand is around her throat and he’s lifting her frail body up from the ground.
“She wasn’t mated to the King, she was mated to London’s father, The Slasher. Her need to reign and be Queen was more than her need to be with her mate.” I lower myself down onto one of the rocks, pulling London onto my lap and wrapping my arm around her waist. If I say the wrong thing, or hell, Mother says the wrong thing, I don’t trust that my girl won’t kill her before we get what we want from her.
Which is justice. Revenge. Answers.
Sinner throws her body down, spitting in her face. “You took everything from us!”
“Oh please!” She wipes the spit from her cheek, glaring around at us all. “I handed you the damn kingdom!”
Legend bites down to stop himself from snapping, and we’re all waiting for it. Legend may be soft with London, but he’s lethal when pushed. How he is with her is a rare occurrence that none of us had ever seen before. “We don’t like being given things that we could gladlytake.”
Legend’s anger rolls off him in waves, and I slowly peel London off my lap, knowing he’s about to jump. He launches forward but this time I catch him by the wrist.
“Leave it,” I growl in his ear. “Save it for the coronation.”
My mother’s face changes, morphing into a panicked, wide-eyed mess. Her hair, now a nest on top of her head, falls around her shoulders as she slowly stammers to her feet. She steps backwards, putting the log she was sitting on between us. “No! Just kill me now.”
“Oh, what's the matter, Mother...” Sinner starts circling her, hungry for her pain. “Don’t want a public execution?” If there was one thing that she loved more than her place beside the King, it was her pride.
Now we were going to take that too.
* * *
This time is different. The lighting that is set over the colosseum is dim, with the main focus on the stage we stand on. London is beside me, her hand in mine, and Legend and Creed are on the other side of Sinner. Five heavy-set thronesare lined horizontally across the platform, each of us standing in front of one. Mine and my brothers are dipped in black satin, each with different patterns etched into the iron, but it’s London’s that steals the show. With the same polished black as mine and my brothers’, the feet of hers splinter up with ice. Cool blue spikes of ice creep up her throne in twisted vines, hugging the edges.
I lift my hand and the crowd quiets. Taking London’s hand with mine, I look up to the stands, out to our people. “You’re all here today to watch the coronation of your future King and Queen, but first, my gift to you all...”
I wave out in front of me and another spotlight flares onto Mother. Her skin is soiled, her hair matted to her face, and the cuts on her wrists bleeding. I watch as every droplet falls to the dusty ground, wishing I could give something more to make her hurt.
The people gasp in shock, before my mouth opens. “Queen Cosima has something to announce to the people of Rathe.”
Silence splits between us. Seconds turn into minutes, until I start to think she’s not going to say a word. Finally, she lifts her head high, tugging at the chains around her wrists and staring right at me.
I smirk. “There she is.” I was beginning to be disappointed in her lack of fight. Even at death’s doorstep, she challenges me.
