Page 154 of Crown of Darkness
“You willnottake my crown,” she growls, and the color in her irises is smothered by a tide of black ink, until her eyes are fully black. “It is mine. As these lands aremine.”
She forces herself to her feet, and that inky color steals through her cheeks until her face is mottled with black veins.
I can’t help taking a step back.
This isn’t my mother.
It’s a monster in fae flesh, driven purely by vengeance.
How did I not see it?
“From the moment I felt you kicking in my womb, I knew you were a seed that should never have been given root. Everything about your begetting was a lie, and your birthruinedme. You were born to betray me, and I did not listen to my instincts,” she hisses. “I told myself there must be some good in you. There must be some half of you that belonged to me, but all I can see is your father. You are a monster I should have drowned at birth.”
For a second, I can’t breathe.
It isn’t true. I know it isn’t true, and yet those words flay me from within.
Curling her fingers into claws, she spits a curse, and then thorns rupture from the ground, stabbing for my throat.
I scream, but something sweeps the thorns out of the way. They wither and die, even as new ones keep stabbing through the soil, until I’m surrounded by a thicket of dry, brittle branches, poison still dripping from those inch-long thorns.
Adaia slowly lowers her hands, and this is the first time I’ve seen her fear.
The winds swirl again, but this time they carry his scent upon them. A dark shadow falls from the sky, landing with a thud in front of me.
And then Thiago is there, enormous feathered wings tucking in tightly against his body. His eyes are as black as hers are, and the barest hint of one of his darkyn tattoos creeps up his throat.
“Adaia.” He slowly straightens. “I promised you a reckoning the last time we met.”
“So you did.” Her gaze slides to his wings. “No longer trying to hide your filthy nature, I see.”
“Why pretend I care what you think of me?”
Little whispers stir through the grass. Thorns creeping like vines. She’s trying to distract him.
“Watch out!” I call.
Thiago’s lip curls, and then he flicks his hand and the thorns wither and die, crumbling into dust.
My mother stills. “You dare walk into my castle. You dare try and steal from me—”
“You had something I wanted.”
A scream of rage escapes her. “You filthy, wretchedthief. I will see you die for this!” Her fingers curling into claws, she strides toward him. Thorns rupture through the grass, reaching for him, but he’s in the air, his massive wings thrusting down.
And that’s when the world explodes.
Both of us are flung apart, and I hit the grass and roll to my feet, drawing my dagger. There’s a ringing in my ears as my eyes fight to make sense of the world.
Fire rains down through the trees. Little sparks of ash streak through the sky like shooting stars. Somewhere to the right there’s a bonfire—
“No!” my mother screams, pushing to her feet, her face stricken. “My oak. Myoak!”
The queen’s oak is burning, enormous flames licking toward the skies.
How did that—?
There’s no time to lose in gaping.
