Page 134 of A Courage of the Chosen

With a flick of her wrist, Elsie’s magic swallows it and for a moment, they wrestle together, fighting for dominance.

When she wins, there’s a sense of foreboding that threatens at the edge of my consciousness, but I silence it. She’ll choose me, our powers will become one and she’ll rule by my side as my queen. There is no alternative.

It’s Broderic who stalks forward, snarling beneath his breath, a lone dagger in his hand.

I call on the Craobh and wrap my darkness around what’s left of my soldiers, sending them back to our hideout deep in these mountains, so the only ones left are Elsie’s party, me, and my father.

“You had better hope they finish me, boy,” he spits in a last attempt to threaten me.

Gathering more darkness to become the rightful king of this army, I look into my father’s eyes for the very last time, and bask in the victory that’s come about in the most unexpected of ways.

Raising my bow, I take aim, and the same magic he infused into my mother to create me sprints along the fine wood to the precisely cut arrowhead, until it’s entirely encased.

I loose it, and there’s a faint whoosh as it flies.

It hits the mark, of course it does, and Father’s chest now has my arrow burrowed deep inside. He drops to one knee, jaw unhinged with betrayal.

“I’m counting on it,” I drawl.

As I step into the void, the glint of Broderic’s dagger delivering the final, lethal blow is the last thing I see, and I leave with the knowledge that I aided those who stand against me in killing my own flesh and blood.

But more than that, I vanish knowing that I’m now a king, and my path to ruling all of Elfayne uncontested just became a whole lot easier.

Chapter 39

Elsie

Tavish shadow-walks, disappearing into the vastness of his power after he sent his soldiers away in the same fashion.

He shot a fucking arrow into his own father’s heart.

There’s little time to process that as Raghnall’s head lands with a wet smack on the stone, and my crown rolls away until it thunks against the root of a tree.

Brodie’s shoulders heave with shuddering breaths, and blood drips from his hands where they hang loosely at his sides.

His strike wasn’t pretty, like he purposely chose a dagger with a blunted edge to make the false king’s death as sufferable and messy as possible. He wanted it to hurt. It still doesn’t feel like enough, after everything Raghnall has done, but at least he can’t cause anyone else harm.

What matters now is the corruption working its way through Rach. The two guards we have left are doing their best to restrain her. She’s strong, fighting them with curses and fists and magic.

“Rach.” I grab her by the shoulders, banding my mist around her upper arms. “Rach, look at me.”

There’s nothing left of the friend I love so much as her gaze meets mine. Her beautiful, pale eyes are void of anything that makes her unique. Her sass, wit, and ability to make me laugh in any situation has been completely drained away, and in her place is an obedient soldier with only one purpose. A black ring has encircled her irises, and it flickers in a taunting fashion.

I swallow back the sob when she doesn’t recognize me. “Rach, please.”

Her head swings back and then collides with mine. My nose fractures, and copper explodes over my tongue as blood trickles down the back of my throat and over my lips. I stagger back a few steps and my hands reactively release her, as does my magic. She capitalizes, putting me on my ass with a shoulder to the chest.

Rach braces over me, fist raised, and brings it down.

Fighting her during training is one thing, but this isn’t Rachel. This isn’t my best friend, and I don’t want to hurt her. I brace for the impact of her punch, while absently wondering if this will be my fate one day, too . . . only it never lands.

Callahan has her gripped in one large hand, and the other holds a knife against Rach’s neck as he pants heavily.

His grief is a physical pang in my chest. This is his sister, his twin. The creature snapping her teeth at him, subdued by the steel at her neck, is not the Seelie he shares such a unique bond with, it’s something else inhabiting her body.

“Off. Now.” He bites the demand in a firm voice.

Rach obeys, climbing to her feet slowly with a half-grin on her face.