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“Get away from me!”
With as much nonchalance as she could muster, Amelie slipped her hand into her pocket, thanking the gods she’d brought the silver rose. To escape, she’d need to remove the bud before the Dark One realized what she was doing. Amelie knew she’d only get one chance. She had no magic of her own to combat a mystical entity, and there was nowhere to run.
“You have his heart already, loved one,” the dark figure continued. “Starved as he is. Therefore, I can not allow you to leave this place alive.”
Her mind saturated with terror, Amelie barely listened to the demon’s words. Incrementally, she withdrew the silver rose until it was out of her pocket, concealed in the folds of her dress. She prepared to unleash the blade, knowing she’d have to strike quickly. Even with the Sirenstone on her side, Amelie knew better than to underestimate a mage who’d brought down a royal dynasty.
“Tell me, does he have your heart?” the Dark One hissed, shooting ice down Amelie’s spine. “Do you love him? Oh, but what am I saying? Of course, you do not, or we would not be here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Amelie, her voice breaking. “All I want is to leave. I’m trying to go home.”
The Dark One was delighted. It wheezed with laughter, the swirling black tendrils moving faster and closing in on Amelie. She moved her thumb under the rosebud, tensing her body in readiness.
“You are fleeing him. He scared you, didn’t he?” said the demon. “He drank the Blood Of The Dragon already? How perfect.”
Amelie blinked, her eyes stinging from the flecks of black whipping around her face. “You did something to him,” she said. “You made him turn beastly.”
“Henbane in his drink was all it took.” The demon bowed its head. “It takes very little to bring forth any man’s beast, let alone one as damaged and blighted as our sweet prince. Tell me, though. Did you not enjoy it, just a bit?”
“No!” she shouted, gripping the rose stem harder.
“You little liar.” The Dark One cackled. “You, Amelie, have made me happy beyond measure. Finally, Davron’s heart has come alive. Finally, I can destroy it. For that, I thank you.”
Amelie was horrified. She’d nearly killed Davron with the Sirenstone for attacking her, which would’ve played right into the mage’s hands. The change in Davron had been sudden and violent—Amelie felt foolish for not suspecting dark magic was to blame. His true self was the man she’d confided in, and who’d confided in her. She wished she could turn back time and stay with him. Leaving the castle had been a grave mistake.
As the Dark One swooped closer, Amelie removed the rosebud and thrust the stem between them. The Sirenstone did not produce a blade or a song. The aquamarine stone merely glimmered, like an ornament.
“Oh—” said the Dark One, halting its advance. “You have brought me a Sirenstone as a gift. Good girl. I once had a friend who owned such a stone.” It wheezed with laughter. “I killed her.”
Amelie shook the stem, hoping to somehow activate the sword. Nothing happened. Was it because the Dark One used to be a woman? Or, because the mage was powerful enough to nullify the stone? Amelie had only ever drawn the sword against mortals. The Dark One was something else entirely.
“Hand it over,” said the Dark One.
A black tendril, thicker than the rest, wound itself around Amelie’s wrist, reaching for the silver stem. She shook off the vapor with a shudder. The tendrils were as cold as ice.
“Or, I can take it from you,” continued the Dark One. “After I gut you and hang you as a decoration from the castle gates.”
Unbidden, Davron’s words came to Amelie’s mind. The ones he’d spoken before turning into a beast. She recalled the sorrow she’d felt when hearing the story of the curse—sorrow for Davron and his parents and his fiancée.
But for someone else, too. For Levissina.
“I’m sorry,” said Amelie, praying some shred of humanity remained in the mage. “I’m sorry for what they did to Malakai. It was unspeakably awful. I can not imagine the pain you felt.”
The whipping wind and flailing tendrils stopped dead, as if time had halted. The Dark One considered Amelie. While it was distracted, she returned the Sirenstone to her pocket, not wanting to bolster the mage’s power by handing it over.
“You are right. You can not imagine the agony,” replied the Dark One, the air still inert. “But I will make you understand.”
The tendrils started moving again, faster than before. Amelie covered her head with her arms, wanting to scream but unable to, because the cold debris would fly into her mouth. The mage’s waspish voice chanted an incantation in a language she did not recognize. The Dark One was going to kill her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Through her stinging, half-closed eyes, Amelie saw a flash of green. A piercing scream filled her ears, and she fell through the air for what felt like an age. She hadn’t realized how far she’d risen from the ground.
Strong arms caught her. The piercing scream continued, but grew quieter as the person carrying Amelie moved swiftly away from the noise. She blinked her stinging eyes open.
“Davron,” she said, looking up at his face. “What happened?”
“You’re safe.”
The village dwellings flew by. Davron was running with her in his arms. She leaned into his chest.
