she has her arms crossed over her chest, shoulders hunched because she’s cold. He’s doing all the talking, and she’s listening raptly.
The more he talks, the more she seems to come out of her shell. Her shoulders roll back, her spine straightens, and then her hands start moving animatedly as she seems to be arguing with him.
I take a step that way, but Carrick stops me in a low voice with just one word. “Don’t.”
I halt and continue watching.
The conversation doesn’t last more than five minutes. In the end, Zora seems defeated again and Amell actually looks mournful. He asks her one more question, and she shakes her head adamantly.
I can see him heave a sigh of frustration and regret.
And then, from thin air, he conjures a coil of rope. It’s light brown, braided, and probably several feet in length based on the size of the coil. He hands it over to Zora, who takes it, issuing two words I can read on her lips.
Thank you.
Amell then leans in, brushes his lips across her cheek, and disappears from the patio.
Zora doesn’t hesitate, turning for the sliding glass door and entering. She walks up to me, then hands over the rope. “This is a magical lariat that can dampen Kymaris’ powers if you can get it around her.”
Hesitantly, I take it to study, astonished Amell would hand over a weapon to be used against his queen. It can’t kill her, but if he’s telling the truth, it could weaken her enough to give us the advantage we need.
My gaze moves back to Zora, who looks shaken. I forget about the lariat, handing it to Carrick without a backward glance as I move to my sister. “Are you okay? Did Amell do something to upset you?”
Zora smiles. It’s forced and without an ounce of truth in it. She even attempts a joke. “You mean outside of showing up and trying to talk me into going back to the Underworld?”
“You never have to go back there,” I say adamantly.
“I know,” she replies softly, gaze dropping to the floor as she takes a breath. When she looks back to me, she seems more in control. “It’s fine. It was just awkward, and there were mixed feelings.”
“Mixed feelings about what?” Maddox asks, a hint of ice in his tone. He may not know the details about Zora and Amell having been intimate, but I’m thinking he’s figuring it out now.
Of course, Zora doesn’t understand things like jealousy, so her expression turns confused.
I don’t have time for a lover’s quarrel that might erupt—although it might not because, like Zora, Maddox has insisted this is just casual—so I redirect the conversation.
Turning back to Carrick, I nod at the lariat he holds. “He wants us to try to contain her versus kill her. Maybe he’s pushing that because he’s feeling guilty for providing us information. He didn’t tell us much we didn’t already know, but, to him, that’s a betrayal to his queen and if Amell is anything, he’s loyal to her.”
“We can’t trust what he says,” Carrick says gravely.
“No, you can’t,” Zora agrees bitterly. And I know she’s referring to the fact he lied to her about her heritage, making her believe she was an orphan instead of someone who had a family who deeply loved her.
“We’ll bring the lariat and use it to help dampen her powers,” Carrick muses. “But the end goal is still the same. We destroy Kymaris in our effort to stop the prophecy.”
“Agreed,” I reply.
“Agreed,” Zora adds. More than anyone in this room, Zora has the most to hate Kymaris for. If she wants the queen dead, I’m going to happily do everything in my power to ensure it’s done.
CHAPTER 25
Finley
The morning of October 7th dawns strangely bright and sunny for the prospect of doom in the coming hours. Carrick and I stay in bed, ignoring the world and all the problems waiting outside our door. Tonight at midnight, life changes. It’s possibly our last day together, and not even a full day at that since we’ll be starting preparations for our battle tonight.
Carrick wakes me up with a slow kiss that feels like the sunrise and all the hope and freshness one normally brings. It turns deep and possessive, and I’d let it continue for eternity but we must stop because it’s not just about us. I curl into his body, skin against skin, pressing my nose into his chest and inhaling deeply. He smells of comfort and strength, devotion and