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She dragged in a breath, trying to steady herself. She had time. Babes took hours to come. Sometimes even days.

There was still time to seal the magic.

But first, the prophecy.

The child moved within her, a constant reminder even as she managed to blot out the pain. Maybe it was the young one’s way of giving her the strength to finish, to do what must be done.

“It’s all for you, little one,” she breathed, setting down the quill.

She’d heard the words just once, on the banks of Avalon. But they’d been seared into her memory. The priestess who’d made them would wither and die, succumbing to her human blood. But the words would live on. They must.

Even as she prepared to make her sacrifice, she knew that it would not last forever. Another queen would come. Two queens, who would stand together to defeat the darkness and death. She would not be able to help them. But she could leave them this.

Her hand fell back to her stomach, tracing the outline. The other traced the words, a fingertip sliding along the lines, checking each one. Which might be most important… she couldn’t be certain. But she would make sure they were recorded faithfully.

Then comes a queen in the age of uncertainty, when shadows cast doubt upon the realm. Born under a double moon and marked by a radiant star, a faerie queen shall rise to command the depths of the voids of darkness.

Yes, that was right. It was the easier to remember, because those voids the prophecy spoke of… she knew them well.

Twice blessed, the realm of shift and mist, when comes the awaited queen who shall possess ethereal might. With a touch, she will feel the heartbeat of her subjects, and she will unlock the secrets they guard within.

Accolon had been fascinated by the second part. A realm of shift and mist—had it meant his homeland? The misty mountains of the Spine, ruled by shifters of every shape and shade of danger?

She didn’t think so; it seemed too obvious. But it didn’t matter what either of them thought. They’d be long dead by the time the prophecy was fulfilled.

The quill fell from her hand as another pain racked her body.

How long had it been? She ought to be tracking the time. The healers had said…

It didn’t matter what the healers had advised in those months that felt like years ago. They weren’t there. If any of them still lived, they waited on the fringes of the battlefield, protected by the Gremog, to heal those who escaped that soulless force of death.

“Just a few more minutes, little one,” she urged, pushing away the book.

She reached inside her skirts for the scrap of paper she’d kept tucked close to her body all these months. Months of denial, of searching for another answer, of selfishness.

Every death, every scream on that battlefield was because of her. She could have stopped it months ago, if she hadn’t been so damn stubborn.

If she’d only been willing to make the sacrifice.

She could only hope that when the time came, her descendants would be braver than she.

These words were imprinted on her mind as well. Even clearer than the prophecy. A dozen words that would change her fate forever. Change who she was.

And save her kingdom.

The child within her stilled, letting her see past that precious little life to the ember of magic even deeper within her. That bright center of magic that had awoken on the happiest day of her life—her Joining to the male she loved. Her mate. Her king.

Its shining silver light had opened realms to her that she could never have imagined. Places of beauty and magic so different from her own. Realms of air and breath where she hardly materialized at all, where days lasted forever and she could walk upon rainbows.

But not all realms were made of joy and love. Some held darkness and death.

A hundred years was a blessing, she reminded herself.

A hundred years was enough to destroy the world.

She pressed her eyes closed, remembering. Letting the void pull at her one last time. Soon, all she would have were memories.

The child kicked hard.