Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
There’s an ache in my chest as a coldness sinks into my body. I stare at my mother a moment longer, then peer over my shoulder at Willow, whose head is shaking repeatedly. Korah has a fiery hand clasped around Willow’s wrist, and I can tell it’s taking everything in Willow not to run to me.
That’s not her. Willow’s voice whispers through my mind, and I feel that pain in her chest, her yearning for me to come to her. Please, Caz. It’s not her.
“They’ll never love you the way I do,” my mother continues. One of her hands grips my face as she forces me to look at her. Her blue eyes swim with certainty. “You’re my sweet Caspian. My beautiful, mighty Caspian. Come away with me. Come now.”
My throat thickens as she grips my hand and tugs on it, and Willow cries my name again. I allow my mother to lead me toward the edge of the cliff where the ocean and all its jagged rocks are only a fall away. I carry my eyes to hers again, and a vision hits me.
I remember when she took me to Vanora for my seventh birthday. We went to the beach and played in the ocean, and then she spread out a towel, opened the picnic basket she’d brought along, and took out jam sandwiches and black potato crisps. Afterward, we went to the market, and she bought me a miniature chocolate cake with gold truffles. It was the best birthday of my life, and I want so many of those moments to come back. I want her back in my life, and if I could have her, I would take her…
But that’s an unrealistic thought.
She cups my face in her hands again as Willow’s faint calls drown with the wind. “Ready?” she asks, and a chill emanates from her body as she wraps her arms around me. I bring her closer and bury my face into her hair, my throat burning from unshed tears. One jump off this cliff and we’re done—gone together, away from this world. I’ve always wanted that…
My mother lets out a loud gasp. I bring her body closer to mine, so close we’re practically one, shoving the blade of my dagger deeper into her heart. She leans back, and I stare at her as she withers away, the edges of her face becoming sharp and shifting into man.
Sure, I’ve always wanted to run off with my mother and leave this world…but that moment was stolen from me because of Decius. I can’t say I didn’t expect this—Decius using the image of my mother and all my fond memories to take advantage of me. I hate him with every fiber of my being, so despite the tears that slide down my cheeks, I yank the dagger out, push him off of me, and stab him in the heart again. He drops to his knees, blood sputtering out of his mouth, and the façade completely breaks. The ivory dress turns to black, the long black hair falling away, the blue eyes now pits of darkness. He morphs from my mother to his original self—an old, ugly man who’s lived too long and has done so much wrong. He stares up at me with those soulless eyes, and I’m reminded of Manx and everything he taught me. I’m reminded of the man who pretended to care about me, who sometimes took me into his home when I needed an escape from Magnus. Where is that man now? How has he become this?
He lied to me. Used me. Ruined my fucking life.
“It’s a good thing I turned out a bit like Magnus, eh?” My upper lip twitches as I raise a foot, stepping on his chest and forcing his body off the blade. “Just like him, the death of the people I hate satisfies the hell out of me. Especially when it’s by my hand.”
He lies there, curled over, coughing up blood, and I’m so tempted to kick him over the edge, but I need to make sure he’s dead—that this fucking Trench knife worked.
Korah appears at my side, lowering to a squat and looking him over. “After all this time, I finally get to see you go down.”
Decius croaks, clutching his chest.
“Why can’t he just die?” I grumble.
“The Trench tree weapons were never meant to kill him, just drain him of his energy. Without that energy, he’s nothing. Do you have a smaller Trench knife?” she asks, surveilling the blade of my dagger cloaked in blood.
I withdraw a smaller dagger from my coat, and she accepts it. She flips Decius onto his back, breaks off a piece of the wooden blade, and shoves the splinter into the wound on his chest.
Decius wails in nothing but pure agony, a sound that’s music to my ears, as Korah works the wood as deeply as she can into the wound. When she’s done, she raises a bloodied hand over him, and fierce purple light wraps around his entire body.