Page 28 of Queen of the Wicked
Kaius reaches for me, hand brushing my arm. “Then we will be here to help you.”
A pause stretches between us, heavy and cold. I look between them, two men who once hated each other, now united in fear. Two men I love in different ways.
“There’s something I need first,” I say quietly, the sudden dread of a second impending doom hanging heavy over me.
Rowan lifts a brow.
“I need to go back to my Lemory. To see my mother.”
Kaius’ expression hardens. “Adelasia—”
“I have to see her,” I cut in, sharper than I mean to be. “Ineedto see her face. Hear her voice. When I was taken from my home, the last thing I remember is her scream. I can’t let that be how I remember her.”
“Adelasia you’re speaking like we’re sending you to your execution,” Rowan says.
“Are you not?”
Neither of them speaks at first. Then Rowan steps closer, voice softer than before. “Then we go.”
Kaius closes his eyes briefly, jaw flexing. When he opens them, there’s something fragile in his gaze. “We’ll take you.”
The air shifts, just slightly. The tightness in my chest loosens. But the fear doesn’t vanish. It only deepens. Deep down, I know they wouldn’t have agreed if they weren’t afraid I might be right.
That I might not come back from this.
Twenty-Five
Adelasia
The village is smaller than I remember, or maybe that’s just because I’m so used to the vast halls of the palace.
Or maybe I’ve just grown in spirit. In darkness.
I stand at the edge of the stone road with Kaius on one side of me and Rowan on the other, their faces hidden by thick hoods. Rowan has hidden his wings with illusion magic, but the three of us together are about as inconspicuous as a Griefclaw. The three of us stand so much taller than everyone in the village, the kiss of magic in our long limbs.
The wind shifted, and the smell of sweet corn chowder seasoned with a heavy hand of rosemary hits me like a punch to the chest.
I’m home.
When my home–my family’s cottage comes into view, I feel a sense of dread wash over me. My mother’s garden is overgrown, herbs long unattended, and the shutters are nailed shut.
I approach the steps, my hands shaking as I lift one to knock.
For a long moment, nothing happens, but then, the door slowly cracks open. My mother stands in the doorway, looking like a ghost herself. She’s thinner, her dark hair has nearly gone grayand much of it is missing. Her dress hung from her frame in dirty flaps of fabric.
“Mama,” I say quietly, tears already heavily streaming down my face.
My mother blinks. Once. Twice. Then, she gasps and pulls me into her arms like a child finding a lost doll. The world stands still for a moment, and in that moment, I feel like a daughter again. I feel whole.
My mother lets me go, slightly, examines my face, and then her smile fades. Her eyes go to the men looming over us.
“Who are they?” she asks suddenly, voice low and cold.
“They’re friends, Mama.”
My mother pulls back, eyes no longer tender and relieved.
“Demons,” she whispered like a curse. “You brought demons to my door!” Then, she shoves me. “You are not my daughter. My Adelasia would never consort with monsters. With evil. What have they done to you?”
