Page 22 of Off with Her Head

"Three," we say together, and press our palms to the crimson bark.

The effect is immediate and overwhelming. Magic surges through the Blood Tree, blood and heart power colliding at its center, then merging in a rush of energy that makes the entire greenhouse shake. The black roses bloom wider, their petals taking on a reddish tinge. The shadow-lilies' glow intensifies until they're almost painful to look at. The silver leaves of the Heart Tree turn in color—not quite red, not quite purple, but something in between.

Through the tree, I feel Scarlett's magic more clearly than before. Not just the wild chaos of Underland's power, but the discipline beneath it, the order she imposes through fear and control. I sense her strength, her determination, the fierce protectiveness she feels toward her kingdom despite ruling through terror. And beneath it all, a loneliness that mirrors my own, a yearning for connection hidden beneath layers of calculated distance.

Her eyes meet mine across the tree, and I know she's experiencing something similar—an unfiltered awareness of my essence, my magic laid bare before her. It should feel intrusive, this level of intimate knowledge. Instead, it feelsgood.

The magic builds, flowing through the tree in increasing waves. The ground beneath us trembles. The glass walls of the greenhouse vibrate with barely contained power. It's becoming too much, too fast, too soon.

"Ravenna," Scarlett calls, her voice strained. "We need to stop. It's too strong."

But I can't pull away. The magic has created a feedback loop, our power cycling through the tree in an ever-strengtheningcurrent. It's simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying, like falling from a great height with no certainty of landing safely.

Then, Scarlett presses more firmly against the tree and deliberately sends a surge of pure heart magic directly toward me. The jolt of chaotic energy breaks the loop, allowing us both to pull away from the bark.

We stagger back, breathing hard. The Blood Tree continues to pulse with magic, but the energy is stabilizing, finding a new equilibrium. Around us, the greenhouse has transformed. The black roses now grow in spirals of red and black, their fragrance deeper and more complex. The shadow-lilies have developed red cores within their luminescent centers. And the leaves of the Blood Tree now bear veins of crimson, like blood flowing through the kingdom's veins.

"Are you alright?" Scarlett asks, moving quickly to my side.

I nod, unable to speak just yet. The experience was overwhelming. My blood magic has always been solitary,isolated, a power I alone controlled. To feel it merging so completely with another form of magic, to feel myself connected so deeply to another person... it's left me speechless.

"Your wound," she says suddenly, her gaze dropping to my side. "Look."

I glance down at the slit in my dress and realize that the black veins have receded significantly. The pain has lessened as well, now merely a dull ache rather than the burning agony.

"The united magic," I murmur. "It's fighting the effects of the crystal."

"More effectively than either of our magics alone." Scarlett's hand finds mine, and the now-familiar current of power flows between us. "Ravenna, if our magic can do this to your wound..."

"Then perhaps it can do the same to Mara's crystals on a larger scale. If we can figure out how to channel it properly, how to control it..." Excitement builds in her voice. "We mighthave a way to counter whatever she's planning. This is what the Cheshire Cat meant, isn't it? About the answers we seek?"

"Perhaps." But even as hope rises, caution tempers it. "But we'll need to understand more about what's happening between our magics and why the Blood Tree accepted you so willingly."

"Your mirror," Scarlett says. "It might show us more."

I nod, though I'm reluctant to leave the greenhouse after what’s just happened.

Noticing my hesitation, she steps toward me, cupping my face in her palm.

"Scarlett," I breathe, unable to form more coherent words.

"I don't know what we're becoming, Ravenna," she admits. "I don't know where this leads or what it means for our kingdoms, our magics,ourselves. But I know this—" Her hand slides around to the back of my neck, drawing me closer. "I'm not afraid of change anymore. Not if it means I’m with you."

Magic surrounds us as she leans closer, closing the distance between our lips. Red and black energies swirl together in the transformed greenhouse while the Blood Tree pulses with renewed power, sending waves of magic throughout Darkmore. Somewhere deep in the castle, I feel my mirror responding, its surface rippling with new possibilities created by the choice we've just made.

Chapter

Nine

SCARLETT

Ravenna sleeps beside me, exhausted from the events in the last twenty-four hours. Tendrils of her black hair have escaped her usually immaculate formation, curling against her pale skin. Beneath her lashes, her eyes move rapidly—dreaming, perhaps.

The chambers she's provided for me in the eastern tower of the castle are a study in elegant restraint—black silk sheets on a bed large enough for two or three, silver candlesticks holding crimson tapers, walls of polished obsidian that reflect the eternal night filtering through glass windows. Unlike the excessive opulence of my own castle, everything here serves a purpose. Beauty and function in perfect balance.

Much like the queen herself.

I hadn't intended to join her in her sleep. After she showed me to my chambers, I'd planned to check on her a few times throughout the night, to ensure the wound at her side wasn't festering. Instead, I found her collapsed across her bed, still fully dressed, her body finally surrendering to the exhaustion she'd been fighting.

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