A curse that is spoken in pure rage and betrayal—one that eats enough of your magic—can linger long beyond the death of the curser.
I curl Vi against my chest, pressing a kiss to her temples.
Curses can always be broken.
It’s just a matter of finding the right key to unlock it.
And then Mariana is there, gently stroking a hand through Vi’s hair. Her eyes go vacant as she magically probes Vi, and then she gasps.
“What is it?”
Mariana looks troubled. “Who has done this to her? Her mind is laced with enough barbs that they’re tearing her to pieces.”
“Can you fix it? Can you heal her?”
“Not here. I need my full circle of seven behind me.” Mariana bites her lip. “It’s bad, my prince. I think I can save her life but I don’t know… if there will be any long-lasting damage.”
Damage. The enormity of the situation hits me as I surge to my feet with Vi in my arms.
Adaia merely smiles. “Long live true love.”
“You fucking—”
Thalia grabs me by the arm. “Vi,” she snaps. “We need to get her home. We need to get her back to Ceres. Now. None of this matters.”
“Is this what you call good faith?” I demand of the other queens, both of them watching emotionlessly. “She has cursed my wife.”
Maren glances beneath her lashes at Adaia. “I saw no curse. I only saw her faint when she saw you. It seems her love for you has faded, Thiago.”
I stare helplessly at Lucidia.
She leans on her cane, her face ruthless and implacable. “You swore to abide by the treaty,” she tells me. “You should have been clearer in your demands of the Queen of Asturia.”
I never expected she would turn her own daughter’s brain to mush.
I stare down at Vi.
She loved me once.
She can love me again.
She just needs to be reminded of what she felt for me.
Adaia thinks she won this round?
Never.
Vi’s my hope, my light in the darkness. She’s the fucking destiny I’ve spent my entire life searching for. I won’t let a fucking curse tear us apart.
“Thiago?” Thalia lays a hand on my shoulder, searching my face for a hint of my intentions.
“We’re going home.” I cradle my wife to my chest. Dark hair drapes over my arm like a banner and though her eyelashes flutter, she doesn’t wake. “I’m taking my wife home.”
“Three months, little prince,” Adaia mocks. “And if she survives then you must bring her back to me.”
Fury curls hot claws within me.
I could kill her now.
I could rip her heart—her soul—out of her chest with but a single thought.
And I want to.
But suddenly Eris stands between us—Eris who knows my Darkness only too well.
Don’t, her eyes say.
Vi is all that matters. I’ll make her fall in love with me again, even if it takes every day of the next three months. I will heal her. I will protect her.
After all, if this curse is spawned of hate, then love must be enough to break it.
We’ll find a way.
I have twelve more years before Vi’s final choice will set us free of this horror, and even though my head is on the chopping block, I believe in her.
I have to believe in her.
“Power the portal,” I snap at Finn.
“It needs time to recharge,” he says in a quiet voice.
The power required to shift an entire party from one location to another is immense. While the Hallow draws from the leyline, scholars have argued that the well of power beneath it is not immeasurable. It needs time to bloat with magic again. Time to suck in energy.
I don’t have that time.
I carry Vi within the portal. “Follow me when you have the chance,” I tell my friends. Carrying one or two people with me will be a lesser drain on the Hallow. “Mariana?”
She hurries to my side.
I stare at the three queens. All my life I’ve hidden what I am. I’ve quashed my power down small inside me, forced it within a cage of my own will. But now it unfurls within my chest as if it can sense my fury and my need.
I need you, I whisper to the Darkness, for the first and only time.
Instantly, the world drains of color. The pinprick pain of claws sinks into my mind. I’m listening.
We cannot let them see what we are. We cannot betray ourselves, I warn it. But I need you to power this fucking thing.
There’s a moment where I look down at the woman in my arms and I’m not myself.
It’s like I look through another set of eyes—the eyes of something cold and hard and ancient.
She’s dying, it tells me.
She’s not dying. I will not let her.
You’re not the one who can hold Death at bay, it mocks. Unleash me and I can save her. There’s no need to power the portal.
No. I stand firm. I know you feel something for her too. I know you’re just as drawn to her light as I am. We cannot allow Adaia to snuff out Vi’s light. Work with me, this one time.
There’s a long moment of silence.
You can’t fend me off forever, it tells me, and then shadows begin to swirl around my feet. I will power the Hallow. But I will need blood.
“Cut my palm,” I tell Mariana.
She looks at me as if I’m out of my mind.
“Just do it.”
One neat little slice across my palm and then blood wells.
Blood is where the power lies, whispers the creature inside me.
“You’ll never get it to work,” Adaia mocks. “Perhaps one of my healers can assist you? Maybe there will be enough left of her if you let me help.”
I look at her and know that the Darkness is staring back at her. Adaia actually flinches. “Know this, Queen of Asturia…. I have played by your rules. I have abided by your terms. I have
