Page 109 of The Queen's Box

“Hold on!” he called. “I’m coming!”

Willow’s body surged forward, as if spit out by the pond itself. Her forehead struck wood, and pain jolted through her skull and down her spine. Her shoulder twisted at an awkward angle, knees jammed against the confines of a coffin.

The duskwyrm hissed against her neck.

She wanted to move, but she couldn’t. All she could do was blink as the Box began to open from the outside.

Light spilled in. A man’s voice, a voice she loved. The smell of cornbread and browned butter and...

Cole.

He leaned over her, his shaggy hair longer than ever, awe softening every line of his face. He looked like someone who’d just cracked open a miracle.

“Willow,” he said. “You’re back.”

Her lower lip trembled before curving into a wobbly smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

COLE STEADIED HER, one hand on her back, the other guiding her shoulder as she rose from the Box. She was shivering, soaked through, clutching the bundled duskwyrm to her chest.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Easy.”

Willow stepped out of the Box and into Cole’s bedroom. Willow’s eyebrows flew up.

“Your room?” she managed. “All this time, you’ve kept the Box in your room? It’s nearly as big as your bed!”

Cole shrugged sheepishly.

“What did you do—step over it every time you had to get a clean shirt? Or just leap from the door straight into bed like a gymnast?”

“There was a system,” he said. “I managed.”

She felt the twitch of a grin. “Okay. Sure.”

Cole’s eyes found hers. “If you’re entrusted with a treasure, you guard it well.”

The sweetness of his words, and the gravity with which he said them, almost undid her. She opened her mouth to reply, but the duskwyrm stirred, giving a low hiss.

Cole jolted backward.

“Whoa! What the hell?”

Willow clutched the bundle tighter. “He’s a darling. Don’t be scared,” she said quickly. “He saved my life.”

She peeled back the folds of wet denim. Warily, Cole leaned in.

The duskwyrm stirred. Its scales had begun to shine again, a clear sapphire blue with threads of opal glinting faintly.

“Is that what I think it is?” Cole asked. “It is, isn’t it?”

“I had to,” she said.

Cole’s gaze flicked to the duskwyrm, then back to Willow. Understanding settled over his features, slow and heavy.

“Oh. You brought it for—”

“Shh.” Willow pressed two fingers to his lips. “Later.”

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