Page 133 of A Courage of the Chosen

Elsie revives from her stupor. Two shafts of light leave each of her hands, one aimed for Callahan, and the other for the Seelie holding him captive. My cousin lands on all fours with a crunch, and his opponent is sent sprawling a third time, with a new gaping hole next to the one Callahan gifted him.

Her aim was off, missing the space where his magic resides by a few inches, but she has managed to leave a nice patch of charred flesh. Stunned by her might, Father lies dazed, shaking his head to right the world around him again as protective magic encases him in a domed shield.

Callahan drags in a breath and is then on his feet, ready to go again, but Elsie catches him by the hand as he moves toward Father and yanks him to a stop.

He rounds on her with exposed teeth, and the magnificent creature she is growls right fucking back.

As their gazes lock, something passes between them, as though a conversation is unfolding that no one else can hear.

It makes me pause.

Does she have a connection with him as well? Do their minds blend and merge as they use their light?

I don’t like that, not one bit. What we share is unique, and the thought of her having that with someone else is almost enough for me to stop spectating and crush Callahan myself.

My desires are silenced when she turns her head and looks directly at me. Her eyes have returned to normal as she’s observed an unstoppable force meet an immovable object.

The threads of our connection vibrate with the might of her, and when she speaks into my mind, the voice that comes does not belong to my Elsie. “An eye for an eye, Prince.”

And it’s in her vengeful promise that the path is decided, and the time for question and calculation passing. Elsie has decided it for me.

I draw my bow and a single arrow, nocking it ready but keeping it low. “So be it, my queen.”

She slams the door shut, turning away from me as light circles my favorite shade of green, and her fingers entwine with Callahan’s.

They call on their magic together, beams of pure white forming in the hands not clasped together, and their focus is locked on the beast who’s slowly getting to his feet. His shadows slow the bleeding, to aid his body stitching itself back together.

Elsie focuses on him. “I told you that you would pay, and that I would watch you burn for what you’ve done to Elfayne, to my family. Your time has come.” The power that radiates from her, even without the Craobh, is ferocious. It bathes us all in her essence, and something instinctual in my gut draws me to it. All of us, for that matter. Every single Seelie left standing drifts in her direction. Whether to harm or to worship depends on the magic that flows through their veins.

Callahan’s light joins hers, and there’s an effortless way they blend together.

Possessiveness curls my hands into fists. Their power might be the same, but they will never sing to each other. His darkness will never call to her light the way mine does.

She was made for me.

Broderic drags Rachel from where she’s started to move toward Elsie too, her fighting him every step of the way, lashing at his body with her new Dorche magic as she gnashes her teeth at him. Their two remaining guards move to assist him in restraining her.

“Stop them!” Father commands, yielding a single step against what’s coming for him.

What he’s unaware of, is that all those he chose to come today answer to me, and me alone. I commanded them all to obey him until I told them otherwise. He selected some of the strongest recruits, thinking his word was law.

“Stand down,” I order, and they all sheath their weapons while my arrow remains pointing down.

My father’s frenzied gaze finds me, his irises glowing brilliantly against a canvas of evil.

The Dorche move behind me, and I let the next series of events unfold with the callousness he’s bestowed upon me my entire life. Cold and unfeeling.

Elsie and Callahan combine their power, and a beam of light careens for the beast’s core. Static energy builds in a crescendo around them that makes the Craobh Beatha hum against me.

Home, it calls.

When their magic hits Father, he staggers under the potency of it. He summons everything he has, but he’s no match for them, not together. Their light is stripping him of everything he’s clung to for so long, and he withers under them.

Elsie and Callahan pull back their light as Father slowly shifts back into his Seelie form, red blood leaking from the corners of his mouth now, instead of black.

With a gaping wound in his torso, he leans over and vomits a fountain of insidious night, retching and retching until every ounce of the magic he’s wielded as his weapon for so long is a black mass that moves and roils on the ground.

It’s no longer a part of him. No longer his to command.