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Run, Thicket thought. Move. Do something. But she knew it was pointless. Even if he could hear her, he wouldn’t abandon her, not to save himself. Forgoing his sword, Marcellus bent over her, prepared to cover Lavender’s blow with his body.

“Such devotion,” Lavender said. “It is a shame my sister won’t know how valiantly you protected her. Goodbye, Marcel. May your feelings be forever unrequited.”

Thicket shoved against the darkness with her mind, heart fueled by panic she had never once felt before.

She was about to feel Marcellus die.

“Thicket, please.” She jolted at the sound of her name on Marcellus’ lips. “Wake up.”

Lavender’s heels clicked closer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before. I didn’t want to come in between you and Delmore. But the voice you heard, begging you to wake up. That was me.”

She felt Marcellus grab her tighter as the clink of Lavender’s sword hovered above.

“I am begging you again now.” He squeezed her hand. “Wake up. Live.”

In that moment, there was only one thought coursing through her mind. Only one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world.

She wanted to save him.

Thicket opened her eyes. She was standing in the middle of the hallway, the door laying two dozen feet away. She sprinted for it as visions of Lavender’s sword coming down not upon the phoenix, but upon Marcellus filled her mind.

She knew he would tell her to abandon him and focus on beating Lavender. On saving herself.

But her mother was right. Thicket was selfish. She didn’t want to choose. She wanted it all. She wanted to beat Lavender. To save herself and her people.

And him.

Thicket threw the door open and charged through the swirling purple matter.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Lavender’s blade sunk into Marcellus’ side. He cried out but didn’t let go of his hold on her. He would protect her until his dying breath.

But she refused to let him have the honor.

“Fya!” Thicket’s phoenix barreled into Lavender, slamming her back and freeing her sword from Marcellus’ side.

Thicket sat up, meeting Marcellus’ eyes. His jaw was slack as he took her in—wide awake and determined to finish this once and for all. Then, his body slumped, the fabric of his tunic darkening with blotches of crimson.

Thicket caught him, heart thrumming. “It’s okay,” she said, laying his head down on the throne room floor. She cupped his cheek. “I’m here. I’m awake. You are going to be okay.”

“Princess,” he gasped. “Be... Behind you.”

Thicket turned. Lavender had already recovered. Her arms were covered in burns and her once beautiful dress was filthy, fanning out around her in torn strips. “How are you awake?” Her voice was breathless, borderline mad.

Thicket stood, squaring up to her sister.

Lavender’s chest heaved. Her long, once elegant hair now hung in strands, clinging to her sweat-slicked skin. She was no longer the cold hearted, dignified Queen to-be. Now, she was a snarling beast—the very picture of the thing she had mocked Thicket for.

Thicket approached, phoenix blazing behind her.

Lavender backed away, eyes wide with terror. She thrust out with her knife once more, catching Thicket in the cheek. Blood trickled down her skin, overlapping the lines of her scar. Lavender smirked triumphantly. Still, Thicket advanced.

Her sister’s face went pale. “Why isn’t it working? Why aren’t you falling asleep?”

“The Dream World is gone,” Thicket said. “It no longer has any hold over me. And neither do you.”