Page 160 of Hell Fae King
“You taught me never to fall for something like this,” I told her, folding my arms with that rock clutched even tighter in my fist. “Hell Fae Rule #8: If It Sounds Too Good to Be True, It Probably Is. Oh, and Hell Fae Rule #13: Nothing Is What It Seems.”
Her nostrils flared in response, suggesting she could hear me just fine. “Camillia,” her mouth seemed to say. “Trust. Me.”
I snorted. “Fat chance of that,Mother. The last time Itrusted you, I ended up in a fake utopia and met mygrandmother.” A shudder worked through me at the term. I never wanted to use it in relation to Vivaxia ever again.
She’s my nemesis and nothing more,I thought.
“Camillia,” my mother tried again. But the mirror disappeared for another long blink, and when it came back, it was to reveal an image that had my lips parting for an entirely new reason. The visage before me was… dystopian. A wasteland. Dead trees—and not like those I’d seen in the Netherworld Kingdom and the Midnight Fae Realm. These trees were shriveled into strands of ash.
Feathery wisps danced around them, their gray quality causing my lips to curl down. They… they kind of looked likeghosts.
A strange visual.
But as my mother appeared again, I realized what I was seeing.Souls. She held up her arm—or what was left of it—to show me the translucent strand that should be a wrist and a hand.
Her blonde hair blew in another gust of wind, causing several strands to just fly away. But it was her wings that captivated me.
The last time I’d seen her, they’d been a brilliant white color, their beauty nearly taking my breath away. Now they resembled skeletal branches with smokelike ends.
“I…” I didn’t understand. “Is this real?” Was I looking into the true Virtuous Fae Realm? Not the mirage she and Vivaxia had created, but what actually remained of their glorious world?
A memory nagged at me, one of me seeing Vivaxia’s wings—the tattered ends blending with her gorgeous plumage. In one visage, she possessed beautiful white wings with golden tips. And in the next, her feathers appeared worn and dead.
Just like my mother’s,I thought, swallowing as another breeze stole more of her essence. The smoky tendrils seemed to be crawling up her forearm now, morphing her skin into a husk-like texture.
Sadness rimmed my mother’s ice-blue eyes, the color appearing paler than usual. “Run,” her cracked lips mouthed as a tear slid down her cheek. “Camillia…Run!”
The mirror shattered on that final word. My arms flew upward just in time to protect myself from the glass splintering all over the hallway.
Followed by an icy breath of wind that whirled up and down the halls.
Atskfollowed, the echo of it sending a chill down my spine. Because that tsk had beenhere. Real. Not beyond a veil or a portal. But in this very corridor.
And as I peeked out from behind my arms, I found the owner of that condemning sound.Vivaxia.
The stone heated in my palm, almost as though it were angry. But when my fingers loosened in response, it instantly cooled. Maybe it wanted to remind me of its presence. Or perhaps it was a sentient form of energy like Vita.
I couldn’t discount anything at this point, including my own vision. Because while Vivaxia certainly appeared to be real, it could easily be another trick.
However, the cuts on my arms certainly felt real.
“Mystika always was dramatic,” Vivaxia drawled, sounding disappointed. “At least she served her purpose.” With that pronouncement, she disappeared through a threshold.
To the throne room,my mind somehow knew.A throne room riddled with secrets.
My brow furrowed as a memory played through my mind of Vivaxia standing behind a throne holding a dying Strigoi King. It was a vivid reimagination, one that felt like my own experience. Yet I knew I’d never been here.
So how am I remembering this?My arms slowly fell to my sides, the stone still in one hand.
More of the memory rolled inside my head, showing me the Strigoi King’s death—at Vivaxia’s hand. Only it hadn’t been the cut across his throat that had killed him, but Vivaxia’s power over him.The pet spell.
She’d owned his soul… because he’d struck a deal with her.
A deal that involved granting her access to the throne in exchange for a queen.
I blinked. This was all too specific to be my own imagination at work. Yet I possessed the knowledge as though it were my own.
Was Melek here?I wondered.
