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But then her eyes turned bloodred, too. She laughed, shoving me into the awaiting arms of the demons.
I sat up with a gasp, sweat dripping down my brow as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a cramped room, tucked beneath the covers of a wide bed. I rubbed warmth into my bare arms. I looked down at my thin shift as a chill swept through me, an unusual feeling, for I had always been used to Derrick keeping me warm, the fire in his veins heating the sheets beneath us. Derrick was too eerily still as he slept beside me. Candlelight flickered on a low table beside the bed, illuminating the lavender drapes hanging from the gray stone walls.
And then I remembered. The undead king and his wyvern.
I’d woke from one nightmare into another.
I pressed a hand to Derrick’s brow, alarmed at his cold and clammy skin. The green witch was gone, and he was not yet healed. I had to find her and demand she finish what she started. Just as I’d thrown the covers off my legs, the door cracked open, and a familiar witch stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind her.
I scowled at Lady Veronica’s disarrayed feather yoke. It had not fared well during the attack. Neither had she. Many of her necklace feathers were missing or broken, and her hair and clothes were disheveled. She had dark circles beneath her pretty, tapered eyes, her mouth draped in a frown. Good. She deserved to look like I felt.
“How is he?” she asked as she sat at the end of the bed.
“Alive, for now.” I swallowed back my unease. If I lost him... “Where is the green witch?”
“She used all her strength healing him.” The witch gave me a pitying look. “Lady Cassandra insisted she rest.”
I stiffened, anger boiling my veins. “She needs to return.” They couldn’t leave Derrick like this.
“She will after she’s rested. She’s no good to you now.” Lady Veronica twisted her fingers in her lap, a look of guilt in her eyes.
The bitch. I clenched my hands into claws, sorely tempted to scratch out her eyes. “You saw this coming.”
She raised her gaze to mine, and the pain I saw reflecting in her eyes nearly took my breath away. “I did. I’m sorry.”
I swallowed back the burning knot in my throat. “Why didn’t you stop it?”
She visibly swallowed. “Because the alternative would’ve been worse.”
“What alternative?”
“The monster would’ve attacked Delfi, killing soldiers and citizens.” Her knuckles whitened as she clenched fistfuls of her skirts. “He was injured in the battle yesterday. Not enough to kill him, but enough for him to need a few days to recover, which will buy us some time.”
I smoothed trembling hands down my legs. “Until my daughters get here?”
She abruptly stood. “I’ve said enough.”
I jumped from the bed, advancing toward her. “You haven’t said nearly enough.” I towered over the smaller witch. “What else have you seen?”
She turned her gaze to the floor. “Many things.”
I gently grasped her shoulders. I had to know else I’d go mad with worry. Would my mates live? Would my daughters? “Will you tell me?”
She looked up at me, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “We don’t speak what we see for fear it won’t come to pass.”
Who was we? “Can you offer me any reassurances?”
The color drained from her face. “It will get worse, much worse, before it gets better.”
My knees weakened. “Will we prevail?”
I wasn’t reassured when she averted her gaze. “I have seen two outcomes.”
I dug my fingers into her shoulders. “And?”
“In one Shiri and Tarianya destroy the demons.”
“And in the other?” I rasped.
