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All of her children were supposed to have died in the great war.
But of course they didn’t. Morrigan is all about games within games, lies and deceits and hidden plots.
Only one question matters. Why didn't he take the throne that belongs to him by right of blood, and birth?
A thousand years, and all of Ilvaris believed the queen's line was gone, except for me. I thought the girl was the last of them.
Yet here he is, effortlessly wielding the power that Darina needs to acquire in order to stay alive: the absolute ability to command anyone on Ilvaris to do whatever she desires.
Crawl, scream, cry, dance, walk forever.
Die.
"Darina, take a step back," I tell her.
Loch rolls his eyes and snorts, too. "None of that is necessary, darling. If I wanted her dead, she would be. In fact, she would be a pile of dust in the woods of fair California."
He knew where she was. That's where I left her statue.
"And for the record, I'm your little brother, Rina dear. I'm only seven hundred years old."
I can't make sense of what I'm hearing. Because if he isn't somehow deceiving us, then…
"Wait, I thought my mother died." Darina look between us, frowning. "Like, shortly after giving birth to me. Didn't she?"
"Yes," I state firmly.
But Loch shakes his head. "Oh, no. Mommy dearest's still alive and kicking. Just, you know. Bored of all the ruling. Personal sacrifice apparently comes with a five-thousand-year expiry date. Catch."
He tosses the circlet in his hand toward Darina, who reaches for it on instinct.
The moment it's in her hand, I watch it change. Filaments weave themselves around the metal, like intertwined vines, and eight spike-like crystals grow.
It's nothing like what the crown looked like in the days of Morrigan. It seems darker. More complex. Harsher, somehow.
"So, you have the crown, a lovely small council—though you'll need more seelie friends, big sis. And in your shoes, I’d also take a seelie lover. You wouldn’t believe how annoying the lords can get when they think their queens are playing favorites. Mommy Dearest had horror stories about that. That's almost everything."
"Almost," I repeat.
Loch kicks at the carpet, as if to strike an invisible piece of lint.
"Mmhmm." He smiles, charming as ever. "Next, she just needs to kill me."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
THE BLOOD OF THE HIGH QUEEN
Darina
I want to wake up. I want to tell him he makes no sense. I want to scream. I want to pretend all of this is a terrible joke. A nightmare.
And yet.
And yet.
Thereis something about his words that's so unsurprising to me. Like I've always known it would come to this. I am certain of two simple, devastating facts.
He is my brother.
