Page 7 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
“Let her go.” Kolfinna’s voice cracked, coming out weaker than she had intended it to, like a child whispering unreasonable demands. She tried to speak louder, more clearly. “Let her go.”
Her indecisiveness made the mana at her fingertips sputter. Was she going to fight? Or not? She curled her hands together; at the corner of her vision, Vidar hadn’t moved. Rakel grinned when Kolfinna didn’t do anything.
“Kolfinna, you’ll do as we say.” Rakel traced the column of Herja’s neck with a honed, shadowy talon. A trail of inky magic stained Herja’s skin, making it appear bruised.
“Don’t listen to them,” Herja said through gritted teeth. Now that she had some of her mana and energy back, her lips curledinto a scowl and her eyes grew flinty. Her voice hardened as she spoke, even as the shadows binding her wrists darkened and flared, consuming her arms even more. “I don’t know what they want from you, but don’t do it. Even if they kill me, don’t let them win.”
The pit in her stomach widened and she felt lightheaded. Rakel’s sharp red eyes seemed to glow menacingly, and Herja’s appeared like two flames ready to die off in embers. They both were determined—toodetermined, too sure of themselves—and it made her sick.
Free the evil queen or else Herja would die.
Save Herja and unseal the queen, and the kingdom would suffer the wrath of the fae.
It shouldn’t have been a difficult choice, and yet she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t eventhatclose to Herja. Just a few weeks ago, neither of them could stand the other. But … But she couldn’t have her die. They had fought together, risked their lives together, saved each other during the battle a few days ago. That meant something.
Kolfinna couldn’t think. Her hands shook violently, her stomach heaved, and her mouth filled with salty water. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to disappear through the window. She wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment.
Rakel dug her nails deeper and Herja gasped, blood trickling down her neck and soaking into the collar of her slate-gray uniform. Kolfinna took a step forward, her mana warming her hands and her instincts screaming at her to attack, but it was as if something was reining her back. A ghostly, unnatural feeling that crawled down to the bottom of her toes and made her stomach curdle.
If she took another step forward, she had a sick, sick feeling that something terrible would happen.
“Please.” Kolfinna tried to push down her rising nausea.
Vidar still hadn’t moved, and that terrified her even more.
Herja squared her shoulders. There was something intense burning in her fierce expression. It reminded Kolfinna of a warrior ready to go to battle. “Kolfinna.”
There was a warning in her tone. Kolfinna hated the hidden meaning behind it.Don’t give in, she seemed to say.
“Well, Kolfinna?” Rakel scraped her claws against Herja’s skin and flecks of blood rose over her pale, bruised, ink-stained neck. “What do you choose? Save your friend here and do as we say, or …?” She yanked Herja’s head backward and wrapped a hand around her throat. Her smile sharpened like her shadow-cloaked fingernails. Like a whetted blade ready to sink into its victim. “Kolfinna, the choice is yours. We can keep doing this, you know. Bringing humans here, killing them, torturing them, and discarding them until we find one who you care deeply enough for. Or until you grow tired of the weight of their lives weighing on your shoulders. Whichever comes first.”
Kolfinna swayed on her feet, her breaths coming out strained and shallow, as if her throat was closed up and she couldn’t breathe.
She should let them kill Herja.
It was more important to defeat the fae and elves without the wicked queen.
If all the black ranks joined together—Blár, Fenris, and Hilda—she was sure they could defeat the half-elf and his army, but awakening Queen Aesileif would only raise morale for the fae army and, if rumors of her strength were true, would make it much harder to win.
She should let Herja die.
But even as she parted her lips to speak, no words came out.
“Kolfinna.” There was an edge in Herja’s tone. A pleading look in her eyes that told her not to yield to them. She didn’t even know what was going on and she was ready to die right thenand there. It made the pit in Kolfinna’s stomach open wider and fester with guilt, shame, and horror.
“Kolfinna.” Rakel’s smile faded and she drilled her claws deeper into Herja’s flesh. Herja grimaced, pain flashing over her face. Blood dripped onto the rug in small droplets.
“I …”
A powerful gust of mana rose from behind Kolfinna. In a split second, the entire room darkened with shadows as they raced from Vidar and swarmed Herja. She didn’t have time to react as they hooked around Herja’s feet and arms and dangled her up to the ceiling. A scream ripped from Herja’s mouth as the shadows burned her flesh. They wrapped themselves around Herja’s entire body, crawling over her mouth and covering every part of her except her eyes, which were wide as saucers. She struggled against the bindings, but they held her tightly.
Kolfinna stumbled forward, hands stretched out to do something, but one of the shadows whipped her outstretched fingers with such speed that she reeled back instantly. She barely felt the sting of the slap.
Vidar rose from his seat, finally, his wings flicking out in one fell swoop and engulfing the room like his shadows. He leapt over the table, his wings flapping once and sending a powerful gust of wind to ravage the room. Kolfinna tripped backward, mouth agape at the dense pressure in the air.
Fear penetrated every pore in her body and she trembled as Vidar took a step closer, his wings twitching like they itched to stretch out wider. They were far too large and grand for such a small, constricted area. He could probably unfurl them even wider, cause the walls of this place to crumble with his mere presence.
“That’s enough,” he said calmly. His voice held an edge like that of the sharpest sword. His lips curled back into a sneer. She could read the disappointment on his face, could feel it in the airwith enough pressure to slice her in half. “I’ve seen enough of this display.”
