Page 7

Becoming Queen

C assandra

They expected me to break. To run, to hide, or to let Niko carry the burden of being a ruler while I smiled and stood beside him like a decorative blade, sharp but untouched.

They don’t understand who I am. I am a true descendant of a Salem witch.

I’ve spent my entire life trapped by invisible chains, my mother’s expectations, the coven’s traditions, and the betrayal of almost everyone I’ve ever known.

But I am done being small or acting like I’m powerless, because I’m not.

Amara leads me into the eastern training chamber. It’s older than the palace, she says. The stone beneath our feet once knew the first wielders of true magik. Here, spells are heavier. Truer. The walls themselves seem to listen.

“You draw from emotion,” she says, her silver eyes appraising me. “That’s human-born magik. It’s powerful, but wild and inconsistent.”

I nod. “I know.”

“And you feel your connection to the earth when you heal,” she continues.

“Yes.”

“But have you ever taken energy?” she asks, lifting a single brow.

I hesitate. “From people?” I’m not sure how I feel about doing that.

She shakes her head. “No. From places. From pain. From memory. There are many forms of energy and magik than you, or even I know.” Amara steps back, gestures toward a tall mirror etched with runes. “Touch it.”

I place my hand against the glass. Cold floods my palm before it turns to heat. Then nothing, until suddenly the room around me fades and I’m somewhere else entirely. A memory not my own.

I’m in a battlefield. Ash falls from the sky like rain.

In the distance screams echo loudly, reverberating through the hills that surround the area.

Fae warriors clash with horned beasts that can only be Quietus-born.

Dark blood soaks into the ground turning it into a muddy quagmire.

And there, in the center of it all, is a woman cloaked in white standing perfectly still, her hands glowing a bright violet color.

She is me.

No. She is not me. She is a future vision of me. And she’s wielding power like a living storm. She gathers it around her like a cloak before pushing it out onto the battlefield to strengthen and protect the Fae-born warriors.

The vision snaps, and I fall back, gasping, my knees hitting the stone. Amara’s hand is on my shoulder.

“That was a glimpse of what you become,” she says softly.

“I...” my voice shakes. “I was everywhere. My power didn’t just heal or destroy. It commanded.”

“In the vision, you and Niko were fully merged,” she says. “Fully ascended. That’s who you are when you stop hiding and let the realm see the true you.”

I look up at her, breathing hard. “What if I’m not ready for that?” For the first time since I placed my hand in Niko’s, I questioned my decision to come here.

Her smile is sad. “The prophecy doesn’t care if you’re ready, child. But I do. So ... we train.”

****

I stand in the moonlight on the balcony of our chambers, fingers still tingling from magik. My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache and I am tired in a way I have never been before. Niko appears beside me like a shadow. Barefoot again. Why is he always barefoot?

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he says softly.

“So are you,” I counter with a small smile.

We stand there in silence, watching the stars shift.

Then he asks quietly, “Do you regret coming here?”

I don’t answer immediately. My eyes fall to his hand, resting on the stone railing. I lace my fingers through his. My fear and trepidation from earlier have long since faded.

“No,” I whisper. “But I regret how little time we have left.”

His expression tightens. “You know something.”

“I saw a version of myself today,” I say. “One with so much power it scared me. And it felt ... lonely.”

Niko pulls me into him, pressing his forehead to mine. “You won’t be alone. Not while I still breathe.”

I know he is telling the truth. But what happens when he isn’t here anymore? What happens after he dies and I am left alone, untouchable, and immortal? I will be the most powerful being alive in all three realms, but I will be alone and there isn’t anything anyone can do about it.

And in the meantime, both of us could die at any minute. The shadows are growing. And somewhere in this palace, a knife is waiting with my name on it.

I turn toward him with a smile. “It doesn’t matter what I saw. I think we should start living in the moment.” Niko stares at me like I’ve sprouted a third eye. “Between Quietus and the court killers, there is a chance one or both of us won’t survive this.”

He tilts his head, cataloguing every inch of me. “And how do you propose to do that?”

“Let me show you,” I say, taking his hand and leading him into our chambers.