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She was sobbing.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as the tears overwhelmed me. “No, no, no.”

She turned.

Her violet eyes were glowing, makeup smearing down her cheeks, splattered with blood. She didn’t speak. She stopped sobbing, but she didn’t speak.

“They’re dead too, aren’t they.” It wasn’t a question. I knew the answer.

Still, she said nothing.

For a long moment, we just stared at one another with pain in our eyes. I didn’t know whose was worse. Hers? She hadn’t only lost her child, but her grandchildren. But I lost my soulmate and my children, so maybe it was worse for me after all.

Eventually, she said, “You didn’t protect my daughter.”

I believed it was intended as a question, and I hoped the sob that left me was answer enough.

Scrambling to her feet, she stepped before me, wagging a bloody finger only inches from my face. “You should’ve killed him when I told you to. This isyourfault. This is all your fucking fault.” She shoved my chest, tears rushing down her cheeks. “They’re dead. They’re all dead because you were weak.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t lapse away.

Would Michael have still been so power hungry if I’d killed Lux all those years ago? I imagined so. Would he have found a way to live eternally without Lux? I doubted it.

So it was.

It was my fault that I didn’t explore the possibility that this had all been staged. It was my fault that Véa was alone when she was attacked. It was my fault I didn’t listen when she told me she had a bad feeling, that this had all been too easy.

It was my fault.

Brynn’s shoves turned to smacks accompanied by heart wrenching weeps. My tears were still falling, but I wasn’t sure if I had any more energy to sob if I tried.

“They’re gone,” Brynn made out between heaving gasps, collapsing against my chest with another punch. “My babies are gone. They’re all gone.”

That felt like a stab between my ribs.

Venark and Hana had left with Brynn.

They were dead too.

Were any of the par animarum still standing?

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

She smacked me one more time before she stepped back, panting heavily to regain her composure. She swatted the blood and tears from her cheeks, shaking her head vigorously. “You should’ve died with her.”

Another stab through my chest. “I should’ve, do gràs.”

For that, I got a slap across the cheek. I’d intended it to sound respectful, but maybe it’d come out condescending. “I’m no queen anymore. Save your ass kissing.”

I didn’t say anything. I had nothingtosay.

Since I was a child, I’d respected Brynn. When she became my mother-in-law, I grew to love her. I saw her as my own mother.

And she was grieving.

So was I.

But she was my elder, and I respected her, and I wouldn’t disgrace her today.