These Twisted Bonds (These Hollow Vows, #2)(130)

“Because I’m a selfish bastard, and I wanted you more than I wanted your power.” He swallows hard. “Do you wish I had?”

I might have taken advantage of it if I’d known. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me. I have work to do here. This court needs me, and I . . .” I need more than a mortal existence to love Finn, and I need this power to truly help this court.

“I know,” Sebastian whispers, taking my hand. Before I realize what he means to do, he uses my hand to shove his cupped palm to his lips. All at once, there’s a flash of light. Nothing but power surging in front of and through me. And then I feel it—a rush of power, of magic, of life in my veins.

My back arches as the power of the court thrums in my blood.

Sebastian collapses, and I fall to my knees. “Bash? What did you do?”

Finn rushes into the cavern and drops to kneel beside me. “What’s wrong, what’s happened?”

Sebastian’s still for far too long as we stare down at him in horror and my tears spill onto him.

“Come on, Bash. It’s not supposed to end like this.”

Fear ripples through me, but I close my eyes and exhale, releasing it, making room for hope. In this world of magic, I won’t believe this will be the end for him.

Finn gasps and stares at me in awe. “The crown,” he whispers.

I turn to the water and see my reflection, see the Crown of Starlight glittering atop my head. And my scar—the symbol of the crown, my sun and moon—has returned to my wrist.

What did you do, Sebastian?

“Sacrifice,” Sebastian whispers, cringing as he rolls to his side. “You said sacrifice is what makes a good king. And I always wanted to be a great king.”

Relief is so sudden that I feel weightless. Laughter slips from my lips. “You’re okay.”

“He’s . . . mortal,” Finn says, shaking his head at his brother. “How . . .”

“The bloodstones,” I whisper. “Arya searched for them, but when her prisoners found one, Sebastian stole it before she could get her hands on it.”

“We believed they were gone.” Finn draws in a long, ragged breath. “Where’s Arya’s crown?”

“I still have it,” Sebastian says. He coughs and groans. “That hurt like a bitch.”

Did it? I didn’t feel . . .

I tug down my dress to expose the tattoo that symbolizes my bond with Sebastian, but it’s gone.

“The bond.”

“It survived the end of your mortal life through the magic you gained becoming immortal, but it couldn’t survive the end of my immortal life,” Sebastian says, pushing back to sit on his heels.

Mortal. “How will you rule a faerie court?” I ask him, shaking my head. “You’ll be so vulnerable.”

“We tell no one,” Finn says. “Juliana can glamour him to appear fae until he can find a priestess he trusts. The rest we can figure out as we go.” Finn wraps one arm around me, pulling me tight into his side, his gaze still on Sebastian. “Thank you, brother. I will not forget this.”

A laughing sob tears through me—relief and grief overwhelming me in equal measure. Mab never said that Sebastian had to die. She said he had to give up his life, and he did—he surrendered his immortal life. For the good of the realm. But I know in my heart he did it for me.

“I forgive you for your deceptions, Ronan Sebastian. You have indeed become the kind of leader this realm needs.”





Chapter Thirty-Two

I don’t remember the journey back to the Midnight Palace. Everyone stayed close, keeping me safe, keeping this crown safe. But it all passed in a blur until suddenly I found myself in the throne room surrounded by my dearest friends, the Throne of Shadows waiting before me. Standing in the center of the throne room is my sister.

It’s true that even when I was human, I dreamed of having the power to save the weak and unfortunate from the powerful and exploitive. But that dream was always a distant second to keeping my sister safe.

The moment I set eyes on Jas, I’m reminded why it was so easy to risk everything for her. She represents everything good in the world. Everything worth fighting for.

“Abriella,” she says, rushing into my arms.

“You’re okay.” I wrap her up in my grasp, holding her as if she might disappear.

She hugs me tightly and I hug her back.

“I have so much I need to tell you,” I say softly. “So much to explain.”

“It’s okay,” she says, but she smiles as she tugs on one of my short curls. “You know how much I love a good story.”

“Soon,” I promise.

“The Throne of Shadows waits for you, Abriella,” Pretha says. “It’s where you belong.”

I draw in a ragged breath and step toward the throne, putting one foot in front of the other. This is how I’ve always done hard things—taking the next step, doing the next right thing.

Lark rushes out in front of me, her dark, silky hair bouncing as she spins to face me. “Wait!”

The whole room seems to hold its breath as we wait to hear what the little seer has to say.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I told you,” she says. “Didn’t I tell you?”