Heavy is the Crown: A Gothic Grove Novel, page 30
“Oisin,” I say. He jerks his head toward me as I yank myself out of his embrace. I pull the crown from my head, the spikes atop it brutally sharp. I walk backward, away from him and my family. “Let’s see if you can keep that magic with its source gone.” My voice is hard, anger strengthening it.
I shift my eyes to Shadow, ignoring the pounding of my heart. “I love you. Please take care of Drago.” Oisin lunges at me, but I’m too quick as I drive the crown’s spikes across my throat in one brutal slash.
The last thing I see is Shadow unleashed, his dragon roaring to life as he rushes toward me. Astrea’s pained screams echo in my ears; my name being wrenched from her on a sob is the last thing I hear.
Drago
(“Bigger Than the Whole Sky” – Taylor Swift)
It’s the fear from Shadow that stops me in my tracks first, followed by agony and anger from Ava. Then a sharp pain, and she’s just gone. My chest cracks open, raw as I finally break through the magic that has held me out. No, I don’t break through—the magic itself is gone. Only remnants of it remain in the wind. My dragon fades away as I drop back into my human form. The space next to Shadow’s bond is empty now.
A portal opens for me, Shadow seeking me out without realizing it, and I step through with no hesitation, searching for visual confirmation that the missing bond is a lie. My eyes snag on Ciaran’s crumpled body off to the side of the room, before finding Astrea bound in the middle of the room by vines of gold magic. I go to take another step toward her, but her magic explodes out of her, releasing her from whatever they were attempting to bind her with.
“You,” Astrea screams. I watch her eyes go fully black as they narrow on Oisin, who is backing away from us. “I am going to make you suffer.”
Her black, smoky magic fills the room alongside her snakes. Oisin has the decency to look utterly terrified. His eyes dart around, and before I can tell her to grab him, he mists out of the room. She lets out a scream of frustration, before our attention is pulled toward two women who are attempting to scurry from the room. One I recognize as Ava’s mother, and the other is the half-rotten corpse of the reanimated Cordelia Fairmore.
“We will kill them all,” Astrea hisses, her voice no longer one I recognize. She ghosts out of whatever was holding her and moves toward the two women. I watch, almost mesmerized, as she appears behind Cordelia, snapping the dead woman’s neck with a smile across her tear-streaked face. Buttercup moves up behind her and swallows the witch’s corpse in one bite. Ava’s mother looks terrified as she has the full attention of the Harbinger now on her.
“Please! You cannot kill me! I can help you!” she begs.
“Like you helped your daughter? You did nothing, and now, she’s gone. I hope wherever you end up, she can torment you,” Astrea says. She puts herself directly behind Ava’s mother, dragging one of those blades across the woman’s milky skin, a wicked smile painted across her red lips.
She looks at Ciaran, who has managed to push himself up to a seated position. “Let’s go hunt your fucking brother.” He gives her a nod, but I see the hesitation in his eyes. Astrea unleashes her power, death and destruction pouring out of her in waves that drown us all, as she goes in search of revenge. The two move out of the room, Ciaran casting a look filled with grief back toward me, so much fucking grief that it almost brings me to my knees.
When my eyes finally connect with my mate’s, I know before I even reach them that Ava is gone. I know that space in my chest is truly empty, nothing but hollow pain and desperation. A void that will never be filled. I run toward them but pull up short when I see Ava’s white skin splashed with red. Tears cascade down my face as I fall to my knees, fists tearing at my hair. Shadow screams, rage and grief pulsing out of him in a tsunami that overtakes everything.
The world around us dims, and I can only see the broken body of my mate, only the failure of not reaching them in time. Shadow meets my eyes, and I know we won’t recover from this. I don’t deserve to recover from this. The failure is mine and mine alone. Shadow sobs into Ava’s body, her name a prayer on his lips as he begs whatever gods we have to bring her back.
I’m not sure how long I sit on my knees, a broken shell of a man, watching my mate hold our heart in his hands. I throw my head back, and the sound I emit is nothing short of a broken cry as I shift back to my dragon, the pain too great to stay in my human form.
Shadows gaze cuts to mine. “Don’t you dare leave me, too,” he growls. He stands, cradling Ava’s limp form in his arms, as if my shift has galvanized movement. “Let’s go.” His broken voice echoes in my head. He opens a portal and steps through before I follow him, still in dragon form.
FORTY-SEVEN
There are creatures in our world that dream walk from one realm to another. Often seeking their mates without knowing.
-Priestess Codex
Jackson
Cleaning up Hell and the mess Oisin has left in his wake after fleeing is taking more time than I care to admit. His mockery of a palace and the city around it is nothing more than a refugee camp at this point. Bodies are still being uncovered days after the battle. I pinch the bridge of my nose as another tension headache begins to form. Clearly, Dios did not fuck the tension from me like he said he would.
The death god surprised me by not only remaining at my side even after the battle was done but following to the lake house we are currently at. I had assumed he would return to his club, but thus far, he has made no indication that he has any intent of leaving. Which is good because if I’m alone long enough, my anxiety might just finally take me under. Since the battle, and truthfully even before that, my anxiety has begun to take on a life of its own again. My nervous tapping is now a constant movement.
The long sigh from Kallen interrupts my thoughts.
“Yes?” I ask from behind the large oak desk. This nuisance arrived shortly after the dragons disappeared with my sister, wolf-shifter mate in tow. Both covered in gore and presenting an Elker head as a prize. Dios and Harrow had arrived only moments before, the latter with her mask ripped free of her face.
“Are we going to talk about the plan moving forward?” Kallen asks, her voice taking on a hint of boredom. It takes everything in me to keep from organizing the papers strewn about on the desk in front me just to give my hands something to do.
“Astrea and Ciaran are back in Gothic Grove,” I say. After the hunt for his brother and Lady Ornate failed, he rapidly pulled his mate back to the city. I can’t fault him; he almost lost her. I would have done the same thing. But would you? Because you let Harrow stay, and now look at her.
The image of Harrow in the metal mask will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my days. Regardless of the fact it’s off now.
“The Harbinger cannot be brought back into this.” Kallen’s voice is deadly quiet. “She will lose herself to that darkness, and we do not want what will awaken from that. Let them run the city, but do not allow her back in Hell.”
Her mate looks at her with a look that I can’t quite place as he grips her uninjured shoulder. The fact that this witch defeated an Elker, that they both walked away from it, is astounding. Not many people can claim to have done that. So, her saying she’s worried about what will happen if Astrea comes back into my realm is enough to have me heeding her advice.
“Astrea and Ciaran will take over The Playground, along with Drago’s club, for now,” I say.
“You seem awfully cavalier about them taking over your sister's place. Are you going to tell us why you aren’t grieving your sister and her mates?” Demon asks. The shifter's blue eyes appraise me, his wolf just beneath the surface.
I shrug. “This is Hell. Death isn’t the same here.” It’s the least complicated answer I can give. And it’s technically the truth. Death doesn’t exist here the same way it does in Gothic Grove. So, while I worry about my sister's soul, I’m not distressed. The distressing part is her mates. Having two dragons loose in Hell won’t end well for anyone. Particularly those two dragons.
Kallen stands up. “Well, that’s not cryptic or anything.” Walking over to the bar, she grabs the open bottle of wine atop it and takes a long swig, forgoing a glass. “Now, we should talk about the plan surrounding Oisin. Do we know what he wants? Where would the little weasel hide?”
As I move to open my mouth, the door to the room swings open. It’s the scent that hits me first, the first rain of the season overlaid with sandalwood, and I don’t need to look up to know who I’ll be staring at. My heart drops to my stomach, and my chest pinches tightly. I clench my fingers into a tight fist.
“Your fucking ex-boyfriend is in my Forest.” Her voice sends shivers through my body. I slowly raise my eyes off the wood surface of the desk and lock them onto a pair of storm-gray eyes framed by long black hair.
“Little fox.” Her nickname feels like a curse on my lips, even as my whole body is begging to move toward her.
She crosses her arms over the cropped white tank top she has covering her chest, the gold bangles on her wrist ringing through the room as they hit each other. The long, smooth green skirt she wears settles around her, brushing the ground, but not before I catch a glimpse of her toned leg peeking through the slit that goes up to her hip. She’s grown up.
Her eyes are hard when I reach them again, having drank my fill of her body. “Arcanna or Lady of Souls to you,” she spits at me.
I don’t let it show that my heart cracks a little hearing that. Growing up, she had always been little fox to me. And only me. Late into the night, we would lie in my bed talking about everything and anything, until the night we took things too far, made promises we never should have, and in the end, it ruined everything.
I open my mouth, to say what, I’m not sure, but anything feels better than the silence choking me. But she raises her hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Jackson, I have no interest in whatever excuse you were about to try to soothe me with. I’m here on business only.”
“And what would that be?” Kallen asks. As if Arcanna is just now realizing other people are in the room, she turns and looks at them. Kallen smiles at her, a curling of her lips that looks slightly unhinged.
Demon curses, noticing it. “Kallen, what have we talked about?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, ‘try to keep the crazy contained.’” She looks at Arcanna again. “Apparently, my smile makes people uncomfortable.”
Arcanna only shrugs. “Men seem to get uncomfortable very easily in the presence of a powerful woman, don’t they?”
Kallen cackles. “I like you!”
“Jesus Christ, there are two of them,” I mutter, which only brings Arcanna’s cold eyes back to me.
“I’m here because we need to stop Oisin. As you are the king here, I expect you to help.”
“Who’s watching the Forest while you're here?” I ask, leaning against the desk.
She shrugs. “I have help.”
A growl echoes out of me as I think about who could be helping her. Is there someone warming her bed at home?
As if she knows where my mind went, she gives me a wicked smile. “I have a lot of help.”
All I can hear is Kallen cackling as rage pours through me. But I tamp it down, pinching the bridge of my nose and taking a deep breath. “Good. I’m glad.”
It’s the wrong move, because her face turns even colder, the temperature in the room dropping with it as ice seems to form around us. And for a moment, I wonder if she even realizes her powers are creeping out. Her breath puffs out in a cool cloud that turns to ice and falls to the ground, and the sound of it shattering is what pulls her magic back into her. She shakes her head as if to clear it before dropping her hands from her chest to wipe ice crystals from that green skirt.
“You’ll be helping me, Jackson, and I won’t be leaving without you. So, either you make this easy or I’ll fucking drag you out of here.” She whirls around and storms back out of the room in a rage. “I’ll be in my room—if that jackass left it alone, that is. Come find me when you’re ready to leave,” she yells over her shoulder before leaving us alone in silence once again.
Demon clears his throat awkwardly. “Who was that?”
“That, Demon, was my fucking wife.”
EPILOGUE
(“Marjorie” – Taylor Swift)
To most humans, death is scary. We fear the unknown and what might become of our immortal souls. But to those of us raised in Hell, or raised in Death’s embrace, we do not fear it. We know the peace that can come with it. We know that death isn’t truly the end, it’s simply the next step. Death is peaceful, when your soul is finally freed, and when you arrive in this Forest, you are finally home.
“I didn’t not expect to see you here.” The voice behind me brings tears to my eyes as I turn around and take in the beautiful Lady before me.
“I did not expect to be here like this,” I reply. She raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. “Okay, maybe I did, but I had hoped it wouldn’t be this way.”
She nods in understanding. She moves up next to me, her dark form glowing in the evening. Almost as if she is the moon and the woods are her sky, with each of our souls the stars that move around her. We both look out over the once lush, green forest, but now, portions of it seem to be rotting away, as if they are being taken by the mountain range that separates this place from the Land of the Damned. While the Forest is a place of healing, the city within the Land is something else entirely.
“What will you do if I allow them here with you?” she asks, her voice soothing.
A smile spreads over my face. “We will help you restore the Forest.”
“How?”
The peaceful smile I had turns slightly wicked. “We have a personal vendetta against the ones doing this.”
Her black hair shifts in the wind, those stormy eyes twinkling as she nods, then she snaps her fingers. She turns to me, planting a kiss on my forehead, as my body seems to materialize. Suddenly whole again.
“You will remain here and take care of things while I gather reinforcements,” she says as I smooth my hands over my body as though it might disappear again.
I look up at her, holding those storm-gray eyes for a moment, and take her in fully. Her hair is long, wild even, and the black eats up the night sky around us. She’s dressed in linen overalls, a white tank top underneath, and her feet are bare on the forest floor. If she weren't holding the massive glaive in her hands, she could be confused for a simple gardener. But it’s the overwhelming sadness that stands out the most. “He missed you,” I whisper.
She cuts me a hard look. “Then he should have come for me.”
It’s all she says before she snaps her fingers, opening a portal to our old home. “You should meet them at the gates. I don’t want the little remaining forest to be burned down because they don’t know how to get to you.”
I nod and watch her disappear, wait for the portal to close, before I speed off in the direction of the Forest gates.
TRANSLATIONS
Kamerat – “mate” (Norwegian)
Rakkaani – “my beloved” (Finnish)
Mi cielo- “my sky” (Spanish)
CHARACTER GUIDE
Astrea Mori and Ciaran Helvig
Witch and Vampire/Witch Hybrid
Mates
Holds Harbinger magic
Kallen
Witch
Original holder of Harbinger magic
Currently, her soul is possessing the body of Reem Mori
Glamour, Realm Walker, Elemental, Mind Control and other unknown powers
Jameson “Demon” Knight
Preseident of Primal Knights MC
Alpha wolf shifter
Mate to Kallen
Shadow
Stepbrother to Drago and mate
Dragon shifter
Fire affinity and Realm Walker
Drago
Stepbrother to Shadow and mate
Dragon shifter
Death affinity
Ava Daemonium
Magic unknown
Mate to Drago and Shadow
Princess of Hell
Jackson Daemonium
Ava’s brother
Magic unknown
King of Hell
Oisin
Leader of The Order of Infernal Sin
Other
Arcanna Ornate
Harrowlena
Dios
Reaver
THANK YOU
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Okay, this is going to be a long one, you guys. Because this book really wouldn’t have happened without so many people. This was a tough one to write. It really pushed me and pulled things from those boxes in the attic we all like to ignore. It tested me in ways I wasn’t expecting (looking at you, Drago). But it also forced me to face some shame I had around my own history with self-harm. So, I have to send deep gratitude to my sweet baby Shadow for allowing me to heal through his story.
I want to start by thanking my wonderful partner, my husby, my human in all things, for sitting with me through this process without even knowing how he was helping. Whether it was making new spicy content to write about, playing with the kids while I wrote, or just a simple hug, it all made such a huge difference to me.
Also, to my found family: Chelsea, Serena, Courtney, Jordan, Sam, and Kristin. You guys all supported me in so many ways, through the nights that I was forcing myself to write and on the days when I was celebrating all the wins in writing. You all kept me going and filled my cup. Truly, I wouldn’t be here without you.
