CHAPTER 26
The silence after the king's collapse rang louder than any scream.
I pressed trembling fingers to my chest—my true chest—where two heartbeats now thrummed in discordant rhythm. The new one fluttered like a caged bird, while Aurora's...no, mine..pounded with the steady fury of a war drum.
The queen scooped up the shriveled gray heart, her polished nails digging into its withered flesh. "Always keeping spares," she murmured, rolling it between her fingers. "Typical."
Yassie made a wounded sound as the lock of white hair dissolved into his skin. His tattoo reappeared on his neck—but changed now, the star points uneven like a child had drawn them. When he spoke, his voice cracked:
"Mother...Elara's...?"
The queen didn't look at him. She was too busy watching Sey—who stood frozen with Lyr's shadow dagger fused to his right hand, black veins creeping up his wrist.
"You let him die," she observed mildly.
Sey's breath came in ragged bursts. The dagger pulsed in time with his heartbeat. "He asked me to."
"And you never question why your shadows obey the king?" The queen's smile was a razor cut. "My sweet, broken boys. Always so eager to please."
A drop of black liquid fell from Sey's fused hand, eating through the marble like acid. I could see the realization dawning in his eyes—the horror of what his "gift" truly was. What he might be.
The queen turned to me last. Her gaze lingered on the golden scale now branded into my forehead. "Ah. You remember now."
Fragments assaulted me:
A scalding bath as servants scrubbed my skin raw
The sting of a needle threading gold under my flesh
My own voice begging—"Take it all, just let me forget"—
I stumbled back. "You knew?"
"Of course." She closed the distance between us, her perfume smothering—lavender and something chemical. "But hearts have remarkable recall, even when minds fail." Her thumb brushed my brand, and fire lanced through my skull. "Welcome home, daughter."
The gray heart in her other hand gave a sickly throb.
Sey moved first. His corrupted hand lashed out, shadows forming a jagged blade. "What did you do to us?"
The queen sighed. "Saved what I could."
With a casual flick of her wrist, she slammed the gray heart against my golden brand.
The world exploded in agony.
I was burning.
Drowning.
Remembering.
The throne room melted away, replaced by a memory not my own:
A younger queen weeping over a bassinet containing not a baby, but six tiny hearts arranged in a circle. Five pulsed weakly. The sixth—gray and still—suddenly glowed as she pressed a golden scale against it.
The vision shifted:
The king's voice—"We'll harvest the others first. The shadowborn should last longest."
Then:
A child with Yassie's eyes screaming as they carved the first star into her neck.
The memory shattered as I came back to myself, gasping. The queen's grip on my face was brutal.
"Now you see," she whispered. "We were never a family. We were an orchard. And he was pruning us for harvest."
Behind her, Yassie collapsed to his knees. Sey's shadows were unraveling, the black veins receding as Lyr's dagger crumbled to dust. The golden scale on my forehead burned hotter—
And the sixth heart in the queen's hand began beating normally.
She smiled.
Just as the throne room doors exploded inward.