by Wendi Wilson
I stumbled backwards in shock, losing my train of thought as my ice spear shattered into a million pieces just before it hit its mark. I looked left and right at my family, wondering if one of them had stopped it to prevent me from becoming a murderer.
But they looked just as shocked as me.
“December Thorne.”
The voice rang out loud and clear, its owner unmistakable.
“Come forward, child, and face the consequences of your actions.”
My eye searched the Zephyrs now grouped in front of the building in tight lines. At first, I couldn’t spot her, but then the soldiers in the middle shifted to open a gap. Sebille stepped through, her face twisted with maniacal satisfaction.
Anger coursed through me and I called again to water, forming another spear of ice in my hand. This one was thicker, longer, and sharper than the one before, made just for Sebille. I reared back, focusing my aim on that cold bitch’s heart, but the icicle dropped from my hand as I noticed the Zephyr beside her.
Or more specifically, the Sylph he held in his arms.
Easton hung limply in the man’s grip, his head lolling forward in his obviously semi-conscious state. His normally beautiful white-blonde hair looked brown in the light from a nearby window, and I stared at it in confusion. My heart stopped as realization dawned on me—it was blood.
My gaze travelled the length of him, taking note of the cuts oozing red as well as the brownish stains of old blood streaking across his skin and clothes. His shirt was ripped and he was barefoot. Even his toes were bloody.
What had she done to him?
My shock quickly morphed into anger, and my magic rose to the surface. My vision blurred as a rage boiled through me and the words kill and destroy ran on a loop through my head.
With nothing more than a whispered call, wind rushed around me. Instantly violent and swirling in a vortex, it deafened me with its whooshing. I may have heard my father’s voice try to reach me over the wind, but I was unreachable.
Fire exploded in my veins, boiling my blood before exploding from my palms. Blue-green flames roared toward the sky before contracting into large balls of fire that hovered just above my hands.
“Control yourself, child,” Sebille called out as my wind pulled me toward her.
With my eyes locked on her, I moved even closer. I spared no thought for the others, completely forgetting they stood behind me. I lifted my hands, preparing to shoot the flames at the queen.
But she had other ideas.
Moving almost too fast to track, she pulled Easton out of the soldier’s arms and held him in front of her body. A long dagger appeared in one hand and she pressed it to his throat. A fresh stream of blood dribbled from his neck where the tip punctured the skin.
Fear and dread extinguished the fire inside me, and the flames in my palms sputtered out. A leonine smile curved Sebille’s lips as she tilted her head.
“You’re smarter than you look, half-breed,” she drawled, her voice tinged with satisfaction. “Now prove you have a brain and come to me.”
I started to step forward, but a hand circled my wrist, halting me. I glanced back to meet the black eyes of my father, who whispered words like wait and don’t listen. But I couldn’t make sense of them.
She’s going to kill Easton! echoed through my mind, blocking out every word he hissed as I tried to tug my hand free of his grip.
“Break it, December!” he shouted.
There was a pop in my ears and sound rushed in—Shaela’s voice, asking what was wrong with me, Charles trying to calm her, and Mom chanting my name. I looked at each of them before focusing on Cris.
“Dad?” I muttered.
“Power of command,” he responded. “She didn’t direct it at me, but I felt the power in her words. Your fear and worry made it easier for her to Glamour you with it.”
My eyes shot back to Sebille, whose satisfied smirk had morphed into a frown. She shouted for me again, but this time, I felt the power vibrate through me and fought it. She tightened her grip on Easton, who still hung limply in her arms, but didn’t move to kill him.
What is she waiting for? I wondered, and my answer was almost immediate.
The sparkle of light blue wings fluttered down beside her. Astonishment jolted me backwards as icy eyes landed on me, narrowing like the mere sight of me was responsible for the anger.
“Oh, good, she’s not dead yet. I really wanted to be here for this.”
Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Three
35
“Alwyn?”
The word exploded from my lips as the others gasped in disbelief. What was he doing there? Did he come to save Easton?
Irrational questions whirred through my mind as I watched him strut toward me. His posture was tall and proud, his visage lined with an equal mix of rage and satisfaction, which made him look almost maniacal.
“You thought you had tricked me?” he asked as he stopped directly in front of me. “Used my own wife against me?”
“Where’s Freya?” I hissed, anger quickly replacing the shock I felt at seeing him.
“She survived the punishment I doled out for using her Glamour against me, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said, smirking.
I had to force myself not to lash out physically, taking several calming breaths and trying to remain rational. None of Alwyn’s past “punishments” had been real, so I had to assume this one wasn’t, either. At least, I hoped not.
All thought fled as Alwyn’s hand struck out and backhanded me across the cheek. My head flew to the side under the impact, and a loud crack echoed in the silence around us, followed quickly by Sebille’s demonic giggle.
A scuffle drew my attention, and I saw Dad struggling against Charles, who held him back. His teeth were bared in his fury, and I knew if he reached Alwyn, he’d tear him apart with his bare hands.
I stiffened my spine and turned back to our so-called king, my eyes blazing despite the stinging pain in my cheek. He looked calm, like he was having a polite conversation at a social event rather than showing up in the middle of a rescue mission and landing on the wrong side.
He looked over his shoulder at Sebille and asked, “Where is the traitor, Puck? He should be here for this.”
Her face darkened, but only for a moment before she smoothed out her features.
“He’s locked up in a prison cell, where he belongs,” she said.
“Bring him to me,” Alwyn shouted at the nearest Zephyr.
“You dare to give orders to my people, Sylph?” Sebille asked, her voice laced with menace.
“My apologies, Your Highness,” Alwyn said, bending slightly at the waist. “Would you please do me the favor of sending one of your people to get the trickster?”
One side of her mouth curled up into a sneer as she nodded at the soldier Alwyn had spoken to so harshly. The man took off at a brisk walk, heading into the building.
“What have you done to my father?” Mom shouted, surprising us all.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve, I assure you,” Sebille said, surprising us even further by deigning to answer. “He is a traitorous beast, but of course, you already knew that, didn’t you? You sent him here to spy on me, to lead me with misdirection and thwart my attempts to bring about this very situation.”
“But he helped you attack the academy,” Mom muttered.
“Ha!” Sebille shouted, obviously hearing the words. “He only pretended to be helping me. He secretly protected the Sylphs inside the building and used his Glamour to hide the location of the lot of you. If this fool hadn’t rushed outside to confront us,” she gave Easton’s body a shake, “none of us would be here right now.”
The door behind her opened and Puck walked out, his arm in the grip of the Zephyr that went after him. My eyes traveled over him, assessing the shape he was in. His hair was unkempt, his clothes torn and his hands were tied in front of him with a piece of rope that glowed with magic. He had a black eye and a fat lip, like a huge, m
eaty fist had connected with the right side of his face.
“Alwyn, you traitor,” he spat when his aquamarine eyes landed on the king.
“Oh, ho! That’s rich,” Alwyn retorted.
Puck ignored him and looked at our group, his eyes turning sad.
“I’m sorry, I failed. I tried to warn Easton of the attack, but I never expected him to come rushing outside alone.” He jerked his head in Sebille’s direction. “She caught onto me before I could send word. Alwyn has been working with her for months. Spying on council meetings. Reporting Sylph news back to her.” He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “He killed Finn.”
My heart died in my chest as his words registered, and my eyes flew to Alwyn. There was no denial in his eyes. No regret.
“It was incredibly easy, too,” he gloated. “No one suspected me. He was the father of my dear wife, after all.”
“What did you do?” I asked, my voice weak with renewed grief.
“Poison,” he gloated. “I slipped it into his tea at a council meeting.”
I remembered seeing him, hiding in a shadowy corner as the council decided to let my father stay at Oberon Academy. He must’ve been there to gather info for Sebille and used the opportunity to take down the king.
“Once that bitch Freya insisted on going to be with her father,” he continued, “I realized it was the perfect opportunity. I would have unfettered access to him and could continue to poison him until he finally drew his last breath.”
His laughter rang out around us, grating on my eardrums and making me gnash my teeth. He killed Finn. He killed the king and took his place and helped in the abduction of his own son. And he thought it was funny.
The man was a psychopath.
“It’s over,” Sebille said, calling our attention back to her. “The Sylph king does not care about the humans, nor does he want any of you to live to tell the tale of his deceptions. You will all die tonight, and tomorrow, I will execute the final step of my plan to rid the Earth of its destructors.”
“Death to the humans! Death to the humans!” the Zephyrs surrounding us began to chant.
My breath puffed in and out in short bursts, and my body began to sway with a sudden onslaught of dizziness. It was all too much, too fast. Easton had been brutally tortured, Finn had been murdered in cold blood. Alwyn was a killer and a traitor, prepared to let us all die and look the other way while the Zephyrs wiped out the humans.
We’d been so wrong. All this time, we’d assumed Sebille only wanted to enslave them and take control of the planet. And maybe, at some point, that was what she wanted.
But things had changed, and we had a choice to make.
We could run. Escape the city and Sebille’s revenge. Hide somewhere and lick our wounds as we try to devise another plan. We’d lose Easton, and most likely my grandfather, but we’d still be alive. And we were the only ones who knew of Alwyn’s treachery.
Or we could stay and fight. If we won, we could save the humans and the Sylphs from death and ruin. We could die, but at least we’d die trying to make a difference. Trying to do the right thing.
I looked at the faces of my family, each expression a mix of fear and determination, and I knew they were with me. We were not ready to back down and bow out.
We refused to have our futures dictated to us by a maniacal dark queen and a cold-blooded murderer.
We refused to live in a world where it was okay for faeries to wipe out an entire species.
I looked back at Easton, his chest rising and falling despite the amount of blood he’d lost that stained his clothes and body. My heart swelled with love, and I knew he felt the same way for me.
Easton Oberon was my soul mate. He was also the one true king of the Sylphs. A bright mind, a beautiful soul, and a kind heart.
I refused to live in a world without him.
I would fight. We all would. Even if it meant death would come for us before it was all over.
Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Four
36
My breathing slowed, and I counted my heartbeats with each breath as I attempted to center myself and pull my power fully to the forefront. Three beats in. Three beats out. Over and over as Sebille doled out threats and expounded on her vision of the future.
I shut out her voice, but kept my eyes on her, making sure that knife she held to Easton’s throat remained still. I felt my power rise inside me as my eyes took in his pale and bloodied face, and I wished I had Charles’s ability to heal so I could take away Easton’s pain and injuries. So I could wake him up and tell him I loved him and hold him close.
And never let him go.
It began to sprinkle, and it only took me a moment to realize it was water responding to me and my call for power. The droplets grew bigger and fell faster until a steady rain pelted against us, soaking our hair and clothes.
I lifted my hand to brush my wet hair out of my face, clearing my vision of Easton. The rain washed the blood from his hair and body, revealing the excess of lacerations and bruises on his skin. I gulped against a knot of emotion forming in my chest, the horror of what he must have gone through really striking through me.
But then something strange happened. I cocked my head to the side in wonder as I watched the open wounds draw closed, the skin rapidly healing over the cuts. The bruises I could see through his torn shirt began to fade, changing from a dark purple, to green, to yellow right before my very eyes.
My very wide eyes.
“Easton?” I whispered, but no one heard me over Sebille’s shouts at me to stop the rain.
If I hadn’t been watching him so intently, I wouldn’t have noticed the moment his body shifted from slack to tense. Breath whooshed out of my lungs at the same exact moment Sebille stopped shouting mid-sentence and turned her attention back to the boy in her arms.
Easton’s lolling head flew up, and the back of his skull cracked against her face. She screamed in pain and released him, holding her hands to her nose, which was gushing blood. Easton stumbled forward, but was quickly swallowed up by the Zephyrs that surround him and the queen.
He disappeared from view, and I snapped out of my stunned stupor at his miraculous recovery. I shouted his name and started to charge forward, but hands gripped mine, stopping me in my tracks.
The steady rain morphed into a torrential downpour in the span of a heartbeat. I could barely make out my parents’ faces on either side of me, but I knew it was them. Not only could I feel their love pouring into me through our connection, only their combined touches amplified my power to such an awe-inspiring degree.
Chaos reigned supreme as the storm intensified. Dark clouds shot sparks and thunder vibrated the ground under our feet. I looked over my shoulder to confirm Shaela and Charles’s safety to find them standing directly behind us.
Shaela was squatted down, hand to the ground, strengthening her connection to earth. Vines grew from the ground around her, twisting and stretching toward the crowd of Zephyrs. Charles stood next to her, using wind to hold the dark Fae back as they struggled against it to come for us.
I watched in fascination as the vines snagged at first one ankle, then the next, pulling faery after faery to the ground and binding their hands and feet. Shaela’s magic was awesome, but it wasn’t enough. There were just too many of them.
I called to the air around me, intending to combine my magic with Charles’s to increase the wind speed and hold the Zephyrs at bay. Only, it worked a little too well. With Mom and Dad’s powers intensifying mine, a gale-forced wind whooshed toward the dark Fae and sent them all tumbling to the ground.
That’s when I saw Easton, who was still standing despite the strong current. He appeared to be struggling as his arms formed steel bands around his father’s torso. It looked like he was trying to squeeze the life from Alwyn, a vengeful expression twisting his face.
He must have heard. He’d either been faking unconsciousness or he’d comprehended Alwyn’s bragging account of events even while in a
comatose state. And the time for reckoning had arrived.
My eyes chased over to Sebille, who stood strong as well, her black hair flying in a halo around her head. Her hands were blazing with magic as her narrowed black eyes were locked on me. Sharp, white teeth glowed between her parted lips. Her smile could only be described as predatory.
With a flap of her wings, she rose into the air. Fire grew from her fingertips as she flew up, streaking across the night sky toward us, unaffected by the downpour I’d created. Keeping her grip on me, Mom threw up her free hand and a stream of icy fog flew out to meet Sebille’s attack.
The fire blazed white, slowing more and more until it completely stopped. My eyes widened with wonder as I stared at what remained—a stream of solid ice that hung in the air for just a moment before falling to the ground and shattering.
Sebille’s scream was filled with outrage and frustration. Before she could launch another attack, I squeezed my parents’ hands and flapped my wings. Mom and Dad followed suit and we rose up in to the air to meet the Zephyr queen head-on.
I focused on my hatred for Sebille, using the emotion to strengthen my power. As her actions and intentions flashed through my head, my anger grew.
Fact—Sebille wanted to wipe humans off the face of the Earth.
Fact—she tried to kill me on more than one occasion.
Fact—she killed Rowan.
Fact—she kidnapped my grandfather.
Fact—she hurt Easton.
If it were even possible, the sky seemed to darken further as my rage spiked. Dark clouds roiled above us as the wind whipped around our bodies. Faster and faster it spun until a tornado had formed, leaving only me, my parents, and Sebille floating in its center.
“Nice trick,” the queen scoffed. “But I’ve already seen it. I’m not impressed.”
Her bored expression only fueled my anger, and the cyclone twisted at an even higher speed than before.