Page 105 of Veradel
Amused, I jerk my head at the doorway. “Get going, then.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice.
Over the next several minutes, my heart grows heavy again as I take careful steps to cover the remains of those who lost their lives—each one astory. A sacrifice to strive for something different for others: their children, their friends, their neighbors.
Covering Tristan is the worst. In death, he looks as still as the fossilized Chosen Ones, what would have been his future anyway. Now, though, no amount of antivenom can bring him back.
Just as I finish pulling back the last sheet, a new voice breaks through the hushed murmuring in the room.
“Diggory! Sylvia!” Belinda crashes through the doorway. “Diggory?” Her gaze flies around the room before landing on me and all the rows of deceased rebels spreading on either side.
She looks at me with fear, a question swirling in them.
Reassuringly, I shake my head. “He’s not here.” I don’t even know if she can hear me. I’m too far away, so I stand up and rush closer as I say louder, “He’s alive, Belinda, but he’s not here.”
She crumples in relief, stilted sobs racking from her chest. I manage to catch her under her arms and support her weight before she hits the ground.
I hold her until her cries become heavy breaths. Five long years of her daughter just out of reach, her husband fighting it in any little way he could.
Finally, it’s come to an end.
“Diggory’s in the Healing Center,” I explain. “He was imprisoned in the dungeons, hurt but alive. He’s going to be all right. His healer, my friend, will take the best care of him. I promise. And Sylvia…” I pause, unsure how to even begin to explain. “I found her—”
“She’s stone, isn’t she?” Belinda hurries out barely above a whisper, blinking in confusion at my appearance. “My baby’s stone now. Gone, forever.”
“No, not forever.” I swallow a lump the size of a rock in my throat at the realization that while my mother might be gone, the rest of the fossilized Chosen Ones… they still have a chance. “Come with us to the Healing Center,” I say firmly, “and on the way, I’ll tell you about antivenom. Your partner and daughter both ensured that we still have hope.”
Belinda nods.
And one day soon, I don’t say,all three of you will be reunited.
Taika hobbles up behind me, overhearing our conversation. “That’s right. We have a lot more to make for all the people on those terraces.”
I smile, because I like the sound of that. I can finally shed my monster layer where I have to claw and kill to protect the people I love, and go back to my favorite thing to do.
Healing.
Hours later, the throne room is finally clean. Taika has taken those who need immediate medical attention to the Healing Center, while the rest of us who are relatively unharmed stand back, taking in the sight of the thirteen spiked thrones in silence.
Chills rack my body as I face them. My grandfather once sat in this room, until his throne and life were ripped away from him. My father should have sat in here. Now…
“Well,” Vivian finally says, cutting through the silence. She tips her head toward the center throne and glances at me. “You’re the rightful king of Veradel. That’s yours now.”
Not a single remaining human—citizen, Chosen One, or servant—mutters their dissent. They all saw what my pack and I accomplished. How we defeated the real enemy but didn’t touch the innocents.
Finally, the world sees me as more. More than the Monster who prowls outside the Wall.
But I hesitate, my gaze sweeping up and down the gaudy seat as I imagine the equally gaudy crown waiting for me back at my mother’s house. The corners of my lips twitch downward.
“No,” I finally answer. “It doesn’t belong to me.”
The pack stares, brows furrowed, eyes bouncing between me and Saskia. My mother inhales but doesn’t say a word. The humans glance at each other uncertainly.
“Lucan…” Saskia starts, raising her hand, as if she can pat some confidence back into my back.
“No, you don’t understand. It doesn’t belong to me anymore.” I don’t raise my voice as I turn toward her. It’s softer than ever before, yet firm. This decision has been swirling in my subconscious for a long time now. “You’re the one who got us to this point, Saskia.Youbrought down the Wall. Savedyourpeople. Your citizens look to you to lead them, and they do so with respect. Not fear or anger or jealousy.” I shake my head. “I can’t sit there.”
To my surprise, she shakes her head right back, my chest heavy as every eye turns toward me.
