Page 103
But if Thicket killed her sister, how would it make her any less of a monster?
She refused to let her heart harden like Lavender’s did. Refused to let cruelty and violence be the only punishment for those who had wronged her.
She knew the Council would be furious, but she would face the consequences later.
“It’s over, Lavender,” Thicket said. “Surrender.”
Her sister cracked a smile, teeth baring wider and wider. It looked broken—deranged. “Now why would I do that when I still have one more surprise left?”
Marcellus stepped from the shadows. Thicket’s insides froze, sword instantly growing heavy in her hands. Behind him, Enola prowled, alpha symbol blazing atop her forehead.
“Look what I found skulking through the castle. The poor thing probably thought he could help. Unfortunately for him…”
Thicket’s eyes widened as Marcellus withdrew his own sword and held it out straight in front of him—its tip aligned perfectly with the center of his heart.
“He is far too weak.”
Marcellus didn’t even blink at the sword. His eyes were locked on hers, screaming at her to not worry about him and do what he had told her to do—ignore everything and prioritize beating Lavender.
But she couldn’t just let him die. As Marcellus’ muscles bunched, thrusting the sword towards his chest, Thicket dropped her own as her arm stretched out for him. “Vynt!”
Her phoenix collided with the steel just in time to stop the blade from sinking into Marcellus’ heart.
It was just the moment of distraction Lavender needed. A moment that was now painted in red.
Thicket stumbled back, clutching her stomach, feeling something slippery and warm trickle over her arms, dripping, dripping down to her fingertips.
The wound wasn’t deep. But it hadn’t been last time, either.
Just a prick, just a touch, was all that was needed to bring Thicket to her end. She crumpled.
“Princess!” Marcellus’ strangled cry sounded from across the throne room, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do.
Footsteps crunched over the rubble. Long, brown hair draped over her face, concealing the cruel, brown eyes beyond.
Thicket’s eyes fluttered once… twice…
“Goodnight, little Rose. I hope miserable dreams await—ones that will never end again.”
Then everything went black.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Thicket! Thicket, wake up!”
Thicket pressed her face deeper into her pillow, willing the voice to go away. She was so, so tired. Everything ached. Everything hurt. Her thoughts were sluggish, her hearing dipping in and out as the world spun around her.
The air was heavy with the scent of lavender.
“Thicket, open this door.”
Door? She lifted her head groggily only to be met with a fierce pounding in her head. She put her hand to it, recoiling as her fingers made contact with a tender bump. How had she gotten the injury? Everything was hazy, her memories half consumed by a thick purple fog.
She saw a kingdom covered in flowers.
A flash of purple fire.
A wolf with a thick, ivory pelt.
