a tremulous wobble, but she nodded firmly and seemed to get hold of herself. “He's alive, that's all that matters. We can figure the rest out later.”
“Don't cry, honey,” Uriah soothed, never wanting to see her cry anything but happy tears ever again. He palmed her hair and held her close, not sure what had gone wrong, but he would fix it. He was good at fixing things. Wasn't he?
“I'll remember. Whatever it is, I promise, I'll work really hard to remember. Everything will be alright.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cracks snaked across her heart. Deep and painful.
Ivy forced herself to accept that memory loss was better than death. Turning her cheek to Uriah's chest, listening to the steady drumming of his heart, she chose to believe her brother told the truth. The side effects of saving Uriah's life would wear off in time, but even if it didn't, Uriah was still here.
He wasn't dead. He was warm and alive, holding her, and whatever obstacles they faced next were just that, obstacles they would face together.
It would be all right. She looked around at the tired faces of her sisters, her best friends, who'd risked everything to give her this gift. She smiled at each of them in turn and saw nothing but relief and happiness in their expressions.
Astrid especially, who looked vulnerable and brittle with uncertainty. Ivy reached out to take Astrid's hand, squeezing tight. They'd have words later, but Astrid didn't hide the way she felt, nodding as a few tears slipped out, her shoulders slumping in relief.
Ivy squeezed her sister's hand again and pulled away, not ready yet to let go of Uriah for very long. His breath washed over her throat in a short chuff, his lips nuzzling at the crook of her shoulder lightly enough for goosebumps to race across her skin.
She wanted desperately to go home and spend the rest of the day in their bed, huddled away from the rest of the world beneath the thick blankets.
“Ivy, I know you're tired, but before the essence of the Twin Blade fades in your system, you and I have the power to undo what our sire did to this brave lion.”
Ilex drew her attention to the fallen cat where it lay twisted and gnarled in the grass, dry and brittle as a corn husk, withered to a hideous caricature of what had once been so powerful and fierce.
“Only if she unbinds her magic, right?” Juliet drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word as she eyed Ilex with extreme suspicion.
Ilex sighed and tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Yes. Given the circumstances, I wouldn't trust me either. I swear to you, to all of you, I mean no harm.”
“And the armed soldiers in the trees?” Rowena questioned, flicking her fingers at the air around them.
“Each of them has suffered untold cruelties at my father's hand, and I vowed to them all we would one day be free of him. They are loyal to me alone. None of them will act without my orders.” Ilex waved his hand, and twenty Fae warriors dressed in green soundlessly jumped down from the trees, setting crossbows and other weapons down on the ground.
Each of them were tall and powerfully handsome, and all of them got down on one knee when Ivy glanced their way.
Ilex looked to her with what appeared to be an open and honest expression, his hand pressed to his heart.
“On the blood of our mother, Ivy, I want nothing more than to be free of all things fairy and to be your brother. I will never seek to hurt you or use you for my own gain. I spoke the words our sire wanted to hear to continue what has been a farce for more years than I care to admit, and the problem with the western territories was and has been his fault.
“I cannot undo what has been done without you. I am not strong enough, but if you wish to remain bound, I will not try to convince you otherwise.”
Truth rang in his voice, and Ivy found herself letting out a final sigh of tension she hadn't realized she'd been clinging to. She looked to the other lions, Abel the only one not currently sporting fur, and how they gathered solemnly around their fallen brother.
All of them were coated in blood, they all had deep lacerations, seeping wounds from where Donnatar's horns had pierced their hide, but the physical pain seemed to be nothing compared to the sadness in their golden