Chapter 12

Twelve

I couldn't let go of him for a little while. Grey crushed me to his chest and wrapped those strong arms around me, too, holding me like he used to what felt like years ago, not only days.

"How did you get here, Fall?" he whispered in my ear, caressing my hair, and it took all I had just to allow myself to lean back, to see his face, to really accept that he was awake and he wasn't going to disappear into thin air any second.

His eyes were still bloodshot but not as dark, and his fangs had retreated, but my blood still stained his beard and chin.

"I thought…I thought you…" Fuck, I'd thought he was dead, but I couldn't say those words out loud. "I came here and you weren't moving, Grey. I called you." And he wouldn't wake up. Only now that I could see all the shades of grey in his eyes did I realize just how terrified I'd truly been.

Grey brought his lips to mine and kissed me gently, like he knew that was my lifeline.

"I'm okay, baby," he told me, wrapping his hand around the back of my head. "I'm okay, I promise you. She just put me to sleep."

My eyes squeezed shut. "Are you…did she hurt you?"

"No," Grey said, pushing me back again so he could look into my eyes. "She didn't. She just put me to sleep, but your blood woke me up. You need to tell me how you got here, baby— now. And I need to hide you." Suddenly, he stood up with me in his arms, and his eyes turned bloodshot again within the second. "If she finds you here…" Wings exploded from his back and he suddenly thought to look around the room, at where we were, as if he was just realizing we weren't all alone in the universe. "We have to?—"

"She's not here," I said, my hands on his face, smiling, though tears were still sliding down my cheeks. "She's not here. She's in Witches' Wing with Reeva. She's not here, Grey," I kept saying as he moved us around while he looked outside, searching.

Meanwhile my eyes were stuck on his face only.

That dried blood no longer scared me. By now I was convinced. Grey was perfectly fine, and so was I.

"How do you know that, baby?" he suddenly said, looking down at me. "What did you do?"

I flinched. "Nothing. I didn't do anything."

But Grey wouldn't have it. He was looking more furious by the second when he put me down on my feet but still held me tightly to his chest. "Fall, I need you to tell me exactly how you got here. If she feels you?—"

"She won't!" I said, taking his face in my hands. "Look—Reeva saw the end of the world in the Star Reader, and then Mama Si proposed that they come to Syra and tell her about it. She was sure that Syra would want to see for herself—and she did! So, I came here to get you while she's out there, still in Witches' Wing. Do you understand? She's not here. Only her golems and the dragon outside—but the Isle is empty, Grey!" And somehow, we were both still alive.

He thought about it for a second, shaking his head. "Nobody else is here? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm s—" I stopped speaking.

Fuck.

"Fall?" Grey said, pushing my hair away from my face.

"Valentine. He followed me here, but I stopped him outside. He didn't come into the castle with me."

Grey nodded. "We can handle Valentine."

"We need to run before she comes back," I whispered. "Storm is outside—do you hear him?" Storm's roars told me that he was flying in circles around whichever part of the castle we were in. "He can take us away. We can fly back."

Suddenly, Grey looked at me like he wasn't even sure I was real.

Or maybe like he just realized who I was and he couldn't quite believe his own eyes.

"Grey…" I whispered, touching his cheeks, running my fingertips over his lips. He looked bad, sick, completely spent, but it didn't matter. He was alive and he could drink me completely dry if he had to, to get all his strength back.

"You came for me again," he said, then crashed his lips to mine, this time violently, until he took all the air out of my lungs.

Something about Grey's kiss had more magic than what the Enchanted were made of. Something about how he held me, how he kissed me with his whole being, how he explored my mouth with his tongue and took from me everything he needed and gave me back an entire world in return. I'd never get tired of it. I'd never get tired of the way we kissed. The more we did, the more I wanted—and Grey was the same. Maybe that's what made it all the more addicting.

"I missed you so much," I whispered, completely breathless and with my eyes closed, forehead against his. We were chest to chest, arms around each other, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

"I missed you, too, my queen," Grey said. "I can't even begin to describe how much I love you because I don't think I understand it yet myself."

I smiled, my cheeks flushed. "Or maybe you're just high on my blood," I teased, though I wasn't even sure how much of me he'd drunk.

"I'm high on your everything," Grey said, kissing me again, just a peck this time. "But right now, we need to get out of here before Syra comes back."

"We will," I said, her name sending shivers down my back. "We will. Storm will take us."

Grey nodded, turning to look out the window where Storm was roaring like mad still. With my hand in his, he said, "Let's run, baby."

And we did.

A new burst of energy had come over me, and I moved even faster than before. I was hyperaware of everything now, the narrow corridors and the sharp turns, the empty spaces that were in the castle, none furnished, not a single chair or table or candle in sight, just stone blocks and space. So much space and so much sunlight.

We took the stairs three at a time, running hand in hand, and I didn't plan to stop even if we had to run forever. Like this, I could do it. With Grey, I could run worlds and never get tired.

Golems everywhere as Grey took us down a hallway I didn't think I was in before, wider, with square windows on the sides. They didn't stop us or even look our way at all, and then there was a wide set of stairs leading down and out a doorway that could easily fit ten people through at once.

On the other side of it was a yard, with a fountain across from us and a large stone plaque in the ground on the other side of it, surrounded by trees. It was round and carved with symbols I couldn't quite make out properly from all the grass and the vines that had grown around and spread over it, but it was impressive nonetheless.

A second later, Storm landed on it and roared like the sky was about to fall on our heads—I guessed for us to hurry.

"Good boy," Grey said and pulled me forward, his wings spread halfway.

Alive, well, running. And now we were about to fly out of this place once and for all, together.

"Storm will carry you and I'll fly on my own. We'll be much faster that way," he said, and I agreed. Whatever got us out of here sooner, I'd take it.

But…

Storm roared again. Grey moved toward the trees, and Storm spread his wings, but instead of jumping in the air to grab me, he roared again.

It all happened so fast.

Grey turned back to me, and Storm spun around, swooshing his tail, nearly knocking us on our asses, but he didn't care. He was growling low in his throat as he looked to the side, to the trees, to where I saw nobody at all, until…

"Is that her ?"

An invisible knife must have stabbed me straight in the gut, and it twisted and turned until I forgot I'd ever breathed.

Syra was standing between the trees, a spot I could have sworn was empty a second ago—yet there she was. Standing tall with her shoulders back. Wearing a white dress, strapless, tight like a second skin, the ends floating around her feet. Her hair shone, pin straight and golden, and her eyes…oh, my. Her eyes were pieces of the sky over our heads.

My legs shook as Grey gave me a look—a look that I understood perfectly: we are fucked .

And we hadn't even felt a single thing. All that magic inside this woman, and we hadn't felt her. Even Storm hadn't felt her until she was already here.

No.

Tears in my eyes. Grey pulled me behind him, his wings spreading halfway. Storm roared again—at Syra, like he didn't fucking know who that was, but…

" Move, " Grey ordered in barely a whisper, and Storm did. As if by the press of a button, he moved back toward the trees, growling in complaint, his eye never leaving Syra who couldn't care less that he was even there.

Syra—who only had eyes for me.

My God, she was unearthly. I almost didn't believe my own eyes that she was standing there, looking so regal as she smiled, her skin smooth, radiant, her lips a cherry red—exactly like the siren she had been in the Storyteller.

And now she was here.

No, no, no, no…

"You're such a liar, Hansil. A very bad liar," she said, and then she laughed.

It was like sunlight and a summer breeze and a bird song wrapped into one sound.

"Was this your plan all along?" Syra said, taking a step forward, and her dress floated around her as if she were underwater, rising in the air, then slowly lowering to the ground again.

"Stand back," Grey said through gritted teeth, and he held my hand so tightly he was going to break my fucking bones.

It didn't matter, though, did it? We were both as good as dead now because I knew Grey. He was going to stand in her way if she tried to come for me, and then she'd kill him.

She was going to kill me, too, when I attacked her—because I would. With my everything, I would.

"Keep quiet while the women talk, sweetheart. You there," Syra said, leaning her head to the side with that smile still on, to meet my eyes. "Come forth. Tell me—what's your name?"

"None of your business," Grey spit again, and she flinched. Syra flinched, and even that looked good on her.

Fuck, I was having trouble getting used to the looks of her, the way she moved. The sound of her voice.

Get it together!

"I'll say it one more time—" she started, and it was easy to see how irritated she was, so I said,

"Fall." My voice shook. "My name is Fall and I've come to get Grey out of here."

The next second was loaded with so much tension, you could feel it in the air together with the sound of the forest around us, of Storm growling, of birds chirping in the distance…

Again, Syra laughed.

Now, I felt like I was floating on the surface of the ocean.

"You lied to me," said Syra, coming closer to the middle of that stone plaque. Grey moved us back slowly, and Storm moved with us, too, his eye never leaving Syra. "I asked you if you were in love, and you lied to me, Hansil. It's her—I can feel it."

"I won't let you come near her," Grey said, and he let go of me, stepping in front of me slowly.

"Grey, don't," I said with barely any voice, but I knew it was useless.

"Let me look at you, Fall," said Syra. "Come on—let me see your face."

I closed my eyes, praying for a goddamn miracle even now. Even when I knew for a fact that there was no hope left, that it was already as good as over.

"Don't," said Grey, and I opened my eyes to see that Syra was coming closer.

Her smile faltered. "Don't make me hurt you again."

My heart fell all the way to my heels. Again, she said.

"I want to see her. Step aside," she demanded, but Grey wouldn't. He wouldn't fucking budge, and he was planning to attack her. I could see it in the way he held his shoulders and his wings half spread, and I could see it in the way Storm had taken his position, too. He was going to attack Syra as well, on Grey's notice.

And how could I let that happen?

I stepped to the side, away from Grey where she could see me, barely feeling my legs.

"Fall," he warned, but I had to try, didn't I?

Syra looked at me like I both mesmerized her and disgusted her at the same time.

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's fine. We're all fine." And I'd do anything to keep it that way. "She just wants to see me."

The siren smiled, her eyes sparkling in a very, very bad way as they scrolled down the length of me. "So that's who you traded me for," she finally said, and it was like a punch in the face all over again.

Grey was already coming closer, but I raised a hand—what was the point, anyway? It's not like he could stop her.

"He didn't trade you for anything—he's not Hansil, Syra. He's Grey. He's my Grey." And if she could understand that, maybe we could even escape this place with our lives.

Such a silly thought. Such an absurd fucking hope, but that was me— hoping against all odds. Hoping, even when I stared death in the face.

But Syra didn't care about what I said. "All those years…" and she shook her head, now turning to Grey. Now disappointed. "And what exactly were you planning to do—just fly out of here?" she asked, her voice ice-cold. "You thought I wouldn't find you, my love? You thought I would let you go?"

In those moments I saw in her eyes as clearly as I saw the sky that her mind was already made up. In those moments, I believed—truly believed for the first time that Syra was evil.

Even if she hadn't been before, and even if she'd wanted to change the world for the man she'd loved, that woman was gone. That siren was buried still in the tomb mountain.

This Syra was a completely different person.

Grey was already in front of me, but I went closer, went by his side, touched his hand. If I was going to die right now, might as well go down together with him.

"The prophecy," I forced myself to say despite the tears. "Did you see the stars? Did you?—"

"I did, indeed," Syra said, slowly coming closer until she was standing right in the middle of the round plaque, her dress moving like it still didn't know it was out of water. "I saw the stars, read them. The witches are right. The world might collapse any day now." She smiled. "And it will the moment I wish it."

I shook my head. "You've been asleep for five hundred years. Don't you think it's time to let go of the past? Don't you think it's time to accept that you can't have Hansil back, that he's gone, that?—"

" Don't you dare…"

Magic, raw and intense, was suddenly in the air. It was everywhere, so much of it, it got stuck in my nostrils and down my throat, and it made my own inside me rage—not only with anger, but with fear, too.

So much magic…

"Don't you dare speak his name," Syra finished, fisted hands raised, no smile on her face anymore but anger. Just anger.

"He's gone ," I insisted, and Grey intertwined his fingers with mine. I felt his eyes on me—he was trying to tell me something with them, but I didn't want to hear it. He was trying to tell me something when he squeezed my hand, too, but I didn't care. He'd want me to run when he attacked, I knew that already, and I wouldn't. Fuck that, I'd come to get him—or die trying.

"You are not fit to speak of him," Syra told me, and the edges of her dress were already rising in the air, floating, just from the intensity of the magic that leaked out of her. "I'm glad you came here, Fall. I was going to come find you myself, but I'm glad you came. Now, you die."

"If you touch her—" Grey started, but I didn't even let him finish.

"Let her," I said. "We're all as good as dead anyway—let her kill me," I said and never once looked away from her. "Just know that you'll become them when you do. You will become the people who ruined your life. You will be one and the same."

Unfortunately, Syra didn't care about my words.

If anything, they amused her.

"Fine," she said with a shrug. "I'll take it. I'll be like anyone at all—do you want to know why?" One step closer, then another… "Because I will never be a victim again."

Finally, and for what felt like the first time in my life, hope left me. Really, truly left me.

For the first time since this madness began and I was thrown into the Whispering Woods, I believed with all my heart that it was over.

Grey tried, just like I knew he would. He spread his wings and he beat them, and he made for Syra with all his strength, even though he knew it was useless. We both knew we were dead already.

Storm attacked, too. Whether it was by Grey's orders or not, Storm opened his jaws wide and spit his fire at Syra as she stood there in the middle of that circle with her hand raised toward me, just a single hand.

A smile on her face.

A dragon breathing fire at her from the left and a winged vampire running for her, fists raised and fangs extended.

I didn't try. I didn't bother to release this magic inside me at all—or to stop it. I just didn't bother.

Instead, I closed my eyes and I smiled at myself because I'd done it. I'd done the impossible—I'd seen Grey one last time before the end of the Seven Isles. Before my end.

Now, I would die in peace.

The heat of Syra's magic was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It was coming for me even through the fire that Storm bathed her in. It hit Grey first, and though my eyes were closed, I felt it when it picked him up and threw him to the side, heard it when he slammed against the trees.

Nothing stood in its way of me now.

A second later, the magic wrapped around me like an invisible hand—and squeezed .

My life didn't flash by me at all, but my eyes did open. I couldn't keep them closed if I tried with the way the magic was squeezing me, emptying my lungs, freezing the blood in my veins, and my head was seconds away from exploding.

Fuck, it was too much. It was way too much magic, and the image of how Sedelis had died on this very Isle just two days ago was in front of me as I looked at Syra now. Sedelis had been squeezed to death, cut into pieces, then turned to ashes—and the same luck awaited me as the siren stood tall, Storm's fire all around her but never quite reaching her. An invisible shield protected her from it, even though Storm gave it his everything. She was simply too powerful.

Then she squeezed her hand into a fist, and it felt like she pulled the soul out of my body. My magic raged once more, and I no longer claimed any control of it. It could do whatever it wanted.

With Grey's face in my mind, with the memory of his smile and his laugh and the touch of his hand close to my heart, I let go.