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Morgana had been like a hurricane leaving devastation and destruction in her wake. The aftermath had been brutal and was still causing Willow physical pains. The loss of both Mathilda and Ulrik was too hard to put into words. The last few mornings she’d woken up with Zoriana’s ragged cries still reverberating in her head and the soul-crushing grief on poor Anippe’s face when they told her Ulrik was killed still haunted her.
They hadn’t left Egypt yet because there was an issue with transporting Mathilda’s body out of the country since she had been murdered.
Alistair teleported in the next morning after it happened. Zoriana was inconsolable. They were mostly keeping her sedated because she would sleep and then wake up and have these screaming fits when she realized Mathilda was no longer alive. She was like an open wound that just wouldn’t heal. Every morning the scab got violently ripped off. It was one of the most painful things she’d ever had to watch.
Everything was just different. She felt different. Morgana’s betrayal blindsided them and was already a tough pill to swallow on its own, but her murdering Mathilda gutted them. She felt like someone had hollowed out her insides. They were all walking around in a daze.
Max was still recovering from the silver poisoning. The supernatural doctor that cared for him said if the bullet had been just a few inches closer to the heart, he wouldn’t have survived.
She had yet to tell everyone all the vile things Morgana shared with her. There would be time enough for that.
All she’d been able to think about was how selfless Mathilda had been. The instant Morgana released her, the first thing she did was try and keep Morgana from taking her. She hadn’t considered her own life for a second. Of course she was sure that none of them thought Morgana would kill anyone. Now there were two dead bodies and a trail of bleeding, broken hearts. Everyone was dealing with their grief in their own way. Phaedra and Eli had taken to sparring every day. He usually came back with fresh bruises or blood. She was sure Phaedra wore matching bruises and injuries. Even when they made love now it was like they were trying to fuck the pain away. Sometimes it bordered on painful, but she needed it, she needed him.
She hadn’t felt a loss like this since her mother and knew there was so much she was suppressing, anything to keep her from feeling. Helping Gamal and Anippe make funeral arrangements for Ulrik kept her busy. She’d gone back and forth over whether to tell Anippe about the conversation she’d had with Ulrik before he was killed. Eventually she did. It was important she know that Ulrik intended to love her despite all the ugliness that threatened them. The news broke the girl’s heart even further. She let Anippe cry on her shoulder despite the fact they didn’t know each other that well. At least she now knew that Ulrik had been determined not to give up on them again.
It was good to be useful to everyone, which helped her suppress the grieving and sadness to welcome the hate that now grew in her heart for Killian and Morgana. It had taken root and grown like a vine, twisted and snarling and wrapping itself around her heart. She would use the hatred as fuel to feed her when she felt like quitting. She was going to spend day and night mastering her Oracle and fae abilities, and then, she was going to hunt down Killian and Morgana and kill them both.
To Be Continued
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Continue The Oracle Chronicles Series in the next novel, Empowered.
www.moniboyce.com/series/oraclechronicles/
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