Page 53 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)

Shattered Glass

DEVI

“ D evi… I’m so sorry,” Seth whispers, his hand warm on the nape of my neck.

I can barely hear him over the staccato of my heart, but he squeezes my shoulder again. “It’s dangerous to stay here.”

I want to claw his eyes out. Stomp over his body. Tear off his limbs.

As I glare at Seth through angry, bitter tears, I can only see my own pain. “Why? Why would he sacrifice himself for you?” I roar.

Seth inches closer, holding his hands out in front of him. “I’m so terribly, terribly sorry. If we could only?—”

“No.” I cradle Percy’s tiny body, shielding him from Seth’s gaze.

It’s been seconds since he died. Or hours. I lost track.

Seth’s hand presses hard on my shoulder. “Something’s happening. We need to leave.”

I glance past my wings to see what he means.

Behind us, electricity slithers out of the hole in Alaric’s chest, coiling around the blade and hilt before spreading through his lifeless body.

The iron-silver alloy sparks, then begins to melt, the current spilling outward like a swarm of yellow serpents trapped inside him and desperate to escape.

Alaric crumbles to ash as the strange, living power crawls away. At the center of the mound, what’s left of the end-all blade gleams—no longer a weapon, just a puddle of molten iron and silver cooling on stone.

The serpentine bolts of electricity merge together to form bigger, longer shapes that hiss from puddle to puddle, turning water to steam and creeping away from the dead king’s ashes.

Nathaniel leaps back from the phenomenon, spooked. The swarm of electricity responds quickly, picking up speed to stop his escape, slowly snaking around his ankles, wrists, and neck.

The Storm Fae screams, and Seth’s fingers digs into my shoulder. “We have to leave now .”

I don’t care if Alaric’s remains spread everywhere and obliterate what’s left of me.

Percy is dead.

Nathaniel leaps over the tilted ledge of the arena, dissipating into a cloud of rain that tsst and tssak as the electricity gives chase, turning parts of him to steam.

Above us, red clouds bleed into the sky, stark and furious against the ever-churning blacks and purples of the storm.

I know the sound that rides the wind just before my cupids arrive.

Their laughter is monstrous and gleeful, loud and close.

It echoes in a place deeper than my ears, somewhere inside my ribs, where my broken heart now stands, emptier than it’s ever been.

My monsters are coming, drawn to the scent of my magic, my blood, my grief, and they’re ravenous for the kill.

They say once a beast has tasted you, some part of its primal mind will always remember. Will always hunger.

I’ve spent a lifetime running from them. I’ve tried to meet them head-on, tried to destroy them with an end-all blade. I’ve even hired others to do it for me, but nothing, no brand of magic or weapon, ever worked.

I’ve carved wards into too many rowan thresholds, invoked every kind of protection known to the Fae. I’ve whispered spells in a dozen languages, traded my pride for safety, and tested which lines I couldn’t cross—each experiment taking its pound of flesh.

I’ve played at being mortal, tried to blend in. I’ve hidden both in plain sight and in the dark, under false names and dishonest pretences.

It’s always the same. No matter how fast I run, this moment always comes. When I wield the magic I once took for granted to save myself or someone else. When I fight to make a difference.

But my curse is not something I can outsmart or dispel. It’s one I have to endure, until the end. No matter where I go, the sky always turns red.

I’m done running. I’ll die here, standing my ground. With Percy.

“This storm… like the one in Inverness. It’s coming right for us.”

I breathe in deep. “Let them come.”

Seth narrows his eyes as the first wave of monsters detach from their blood-red clouds. They fall fast, forming blurry, black, earth-bound cannonballs. “What are they? What do they want?”

“When I say cupid , you picture a cute cherub in a diaper with a heart-shaped arrow, right? Curly blond hair. Cheeky smile.” I grind the words out. “Well, think again. Those are cupids, and they’re here to carve out my heart.”

“How do we fight them?”

“We don’t.” I fall to my ass on the stones and hunch forward. “I’m ready to die.” The corners of my mouth twitch. “Your mother will have my heart at last, pretty boy. Maybe keep it to yourself, if you can.”

“I’d rather it stays inside your chest,” Seth says, his Storm sword held tight in his grip, ready to greet our attackers. “Please, Devi. We have to leave.”

I close my eyes. “I can’t live without him. Now go, before they kill you, too,” I say, my voice tired and listless. My heart is cold, and my eyes are dry. Like I’m already dead.

“I won’t. Not without you.”

I curl my wings around myself as four or five cupids hit the ground around me like enormous balls of black hail. They snigger as they land, the wind they carried with them blasting Seth back several feet.

Sharp claws tear at my feathers, plucking them out, the cupids jumping in victory, like they know I’ve given up.

“I didn’t know him well, but Percy would want you to live,” Seth shouts, slashing my abusers one by one.

I can’t hear him clearly. I’m stuck inside a storm of claws, teeth, and grief.

“It’s no use,” I whisper. “Another wave will come. Then another. That’s how the curse works. Without Percy here to fix me, I can’t heal. Can’t survive.”

Two monsters grab the top of my right wing and gauge their nails in at the root in an attempt to scrape it off the bone. Seth’s lightning cooks them through before they succeed, and they fall to each side of me with resonant thuds.

Another wave hits the ground, now focussed on Seth. They want me dead, but he’s an obstacle to that, and they don’t discriminate.

I blink my eyes open. He looks so fierce, battling my demons, taking care not to burn me with his magic, fighting for me when all hope is lost. No wonder Percy had developed a soft spot for him.

If he was alive, my Faeling would have faced these beasts head-on before letting them kill me, much like Seth is doing now.

Stab. Kill. Repeat.

His stamina is impressive.

His tolerance to pain even more so.

The wet sound of chubby bodies hitting the ground—the absence of the familiar crunch of broken glass—pulls me out of the haze. I dismiss my wings, the feathers shimmering back to the ether, and take in the scene before me.

“Are there more?” Seth stands tall over my prostrated body, eyes wild, searching the black and purple sky for the next wave. But there’s no more wings beating on the wind. No demented laughter. Just silence.

Blood, bite marks, and lacerations cover his body, and his breath is rushed. “Is that it? Are they dead?” he croaks.

I gape at the mess of mangled bodies—a hundred cupids strewn across the broken slab of the arena in twisted positions, oozing dark, tar-like blood. Eyes glassy. Guts spilling. But no shattered glass. “You… How? What did you do?”

“What do you mean? I killed them.”

I stand up and shake one with my bare foot. Its plump black flesh wiggles under the tip of my toes. By Eros, he’s right. They’re dead.

He holds out his hand. “Let’s get out of here, alright?”

He killed them. My demons. My monsters. I slip my hand in his, clutching Percy’s body with the other, holding my poor, lifeless Faeling close to my heart. “Alright.”