“You can’t kill me,” I say. “I’m the Somniatis heir.”
Though it isn’t true and we all know it.
I’ve seen it.
King Seryth drags his lips to a smile, the handsome edges of his face growing darker still.
He touches a hand to my mother’s stomach, just as I foresaw.
“Heirs can be replaced.” He speaks the words I already know. “Only I am forever.”
To him, my family are nothing more than animals to breed.
Creatures to conquer worlds with.
All this time I’ve wanted to be the Somniatis witch and for what? I convinced myself it would mean freedom, when really I knew that I’d just be making myself a willing prisoner of a cruel man.
“You’re not special, Selestra,” my mother says. “I’ve always told you that.”
Her voice falters a little. It’s enough to remind me that it isn’t her fault the curse of our family has left her hollow. It has done the same thing to every witch who came before, and if I ever lived to truly serve the king, it would do the same to me too.
“I hope the new heir burns your kingdom to the ground,” I spit.
The king just smiles. “Only if I tell her to.”
He is a shadow, looming over me. So tall that if I look straight ahead, I can only see his jugular. His battle-scarred neck.
I press my lips together.
The king looks to Theola and she nods. She’s known for a while this is how things would end.
My fingertips spark with fear as she approaches.
My eyes meet hers. Snake to snake, witch to witch.
I feel the energy of my magic inside me, just like in the After Dusk Inn when I nearly siphoned the life out of that man.
“I told you to be careful,” Theola says. “You should have listened to me.”
I nod. “I know, Mother.”
Then I punch her in the mouth.
As hard as I can, just like Asden taught me. For his death and for Irenya’s injuries and for every person whose soul they’ve stolen and especially for me.
For my mother too.
For the person she used to be, who is as dead as those people in the tavern are now.
She falls backward, her head thumping against the floor, and whether it’s from the force of my punch or the mere shock, I don’t care. I don’t waste time.
I grab Irenya and drag her toward the window.
The king’s laughter bellows through the room, almost impressed.
“Drop down to the roof ledge!” I yell, practically shoving Irenya out of the window. “Go, now!”
Irenya doesn’t argue, shaking as she twists her bruised body around and lowers herself down.
When she drops, she closes her eyes, and I breathe a sigh of relief when she lands safely.
Before I can follow, I’m being pulled back. My mother’s fingers tangle into my hair, ripping and clawing. She tears me from the window and throws me to the floor, between her and the king.
“Enough!” she screams. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
Her voice is shaken and acrid.
“I told you that you can’t escape this, Selestra.” The king wags his finger from side to side.
I squeeze my hands into fists, refusing to let him see my fear.
The king’s smile crawls across his face at the small defiance. “Everyone has to die sometime,” he says. “Unless you’re me, of course.”
Then he lets out a cry.
I hear it before my mother does.
I see the blade before she has time to gasp.
The sword goes straight through his back. Through his old, wretched heart and out of his chest.
King Seryth looks down at the black blade, stutters a breath, and then collapses to the floor.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” Nox says.
“Traitor!” Theola screams.
“You’re quick to catch on.”
He throws a blade toward her.
From his hand it flows straight into Theola’s neck.
Suddenly she isn’t screaming anymore.
She collapses to her knees, clutching at her wound as the blood weeps like tears from her throat.
My eyes go wide at the sight of it.
“Come on,” another soldier says, appearing from the hall. Nox’s friend. Micah. “We have to go before they get back up! Immortals don’t stay down for long.”
Quickly, I leap over my mother’s blood that pools across the floor and toward the window. A part of me wants to run to her side, but it would be a useless gesture. I can already feel her power sparking into the air, healing her injuries. It swarms around her.
“This way!” Nox holds out an urgent hand for me, gesturing to the door of my room.
I blink. His knuckles are bloody and his breath is punctured.
He fought his way into this castle, through dozens of guards.
For me.
Why did he come here?
He could have died returning to this place.
I told him he would.
But I don’t have the time to ask.
“Not that way,” I say, already flinging my leg over the window ledge. “The door is magically sealed. You can get in, but you can’t get back out. Unless you’re my mother.”
At the edge of the room, the king stirs, his eyes starting to flicker back open, and Theola, choking on her blood, lets out a gasp.
She reaches a shaking hand toward us, eyes glowing in the night. From the floor, her blood begins to seep back into her.
Nox makes for the window, Micah following.
“You’ll die for this,” the king utters throatily. “Just like your father.”
We turn to him.
His hands shake as he grips the blade, ready to tear it from his heart and puncture it through ours.
His wounds will disappear soon, immortality pulling him back together the way it has done for a century. He looks straight at Nox.
“I know what you’re after and you’ll never find it.”
Nox tenses, fists squeezed by his sides.
“Let’s go” is all he says to me.
My mother crawls toward us, the hole in her neck fading fast. She opens her mouth to speak, but all that comes is a gurgle of breath and blood.
I take one last look at her and then I jump.