Page 169 of Autumn Queens & Shadows

Iskyla kneeled next, holding a hand over her wounds and wincing at the movement that had every other injury bleed worse. Her sisters followed.

Fascinating and all, terrifying and all, but I wasn’t paying mind to that.

But to the man who stood behind it all.

Malik chased King Edric’s footsteps only a few feet behind him. He kneeled, too. Just not at the Isean King. He was kneeling before me. Head bowed, eyes resting on the ground.

Edric stopped a foot short from me. Even though he was merely bones and no soul, I could feel his presence everywhere, the eerie might of his still lingered in the winter air. For the first time, I also kneeled. Only because I knew I would never have to kneel ever again.

The heavy ancient crown was placed on my head. Its weight was heavier than just because of the metal.

The old king lowered the sword to my extended hands, the glistening of the gold was entirely blinding. And so were the words engraved on it.

May the winter wolf die last.

I flipped the sword the other way around.

Stormblade.

King Edric pulled onto his scabbard and handed it to me next.

When I pulled the sword back on its leather sheath, the wind calmed, the snow halted, the clouds ended their grey terror, parting in the middle to let one single stray of sunlight fall to the ground. To let it fall on me.

A crow of a large bird dragged my attention to it as it flew over my head, circling me and then launching upward the light stream and diving through the skies.

The heartbeat returned.

More noise returned.

Animals descended from the forests around, Isline creatures among them. They all descended from their hiding and headed towards Isjord.

The heartbeat grew stronger. And stronger.

Heads were raised, all looking around in wonder, whispering about the heartbeat they too could now hear.

Raising my head up to the light, I closed my eyes and let a quivering smile stretch in my face.

It was over.

When I could catch my breath like I’d never caught it before, with such ease and relief, when I couldn’t feel the heavy reminder of memories curl through my hair, I opened them and stood.

The cast of light disappeared when I fully sheathed the sword back on its scabbard.

Edric’s remains bowed and then began melting into dust, blown away into the wind.

A figure stood behind the crowd of Isjordians who were now bowing before me instead of their old king. Dapper in a navy suit that came high up on his neck, dark blue hair, his face young yet old, his body slender yet strong, Krig remained at the distance beside Snow who had directed the foulest side eye at him, watching me. Just before he disappeared, his eyes searched the forest around and he smiled when the heartbeat rang again in the distance.

Maybe the old gods were never gone.

Malik was the first to stand. Head still bowed, eyes still lowered. The rest all followed after their king—my king.

“You came back,” I said. And he’d saved me again.

He finally looked up at me. “I will always come back. If you need me to.”

“How did you know I needed you this time? I could have defeated Iskyla on my own.”

“Fine. Maybe I need you.”