The War of Two Queens

“Because I can’t become something capable of leveling cities. I couldn’t live with myself. You know that. You couldn’t live with allowing me to become that. Neither could Casteel. Maybe that will never happen. I will do everything I can to not let it. But if it does? You would be doing the right thing. You know that. You would be doing the thing that needed to be done.

“Don’t forget what he means to me, Poppy. I’ve known him my whole damn life. We shared the same crib more times than not. We took our first steps together. Sat at the same table most nights, refusing to eat the same vegetables. We explored tunnels and lakes, pretended that fields were new, undiscovered kingdoms. We were inseparable. And that didn’t change as we grew older. He was and still is a part of me.”

“What you need is natural. It may not feel that way right now because it’s new to you, while I’ve been around Atlantians my whole life. There’s nothing awkward or bad about it. I’m actually proud of you.”

“It’s the truth, Poppy. All of us know the risks, and we’re not here just for you. He is our King.” He met my glare with his own. “Also, I don’t believe that once you have a couple of minutes to think about this, you won’t seriously reconsider taking on the entire damn Blood Crown by yourself.”

“Feedings can get intense,” he reminded me, drawing my gaze to his. “Whatever you feel or don’t feel during this doesn’t matter. What does is that you know that this—all of it—is natural. There’s no shame here. No judgment. I know that. Cas knows that. You need to know that, Poppy.”

“Honeydew. You taste of honeydew, and your skin smells of jasmine. Fuck.

“I would suggest you think very long and hard about what you believe you have the right to say to my Queen. Before you speak again. Or you will discover fairly quickly how your King responds when you offend your Queen. Fair warning, it will likely be the last thing you do for quite some time.”

“Unlike you and my daughter, Malec and I were never granted the privilege of the marriage imprint—proof that either of us lived or died. And you know that not even the bond shared between heartmates can alert the other of death. I have spent the last several hundred years believing that Malec was dead.”

“To be honest, I don’t know how I’m doing when it comes to her. All I know is that I…I don’t think of her as my mother. Because she wasn’t. I used to struggle with who she was to me and the monster she was to Casteel and everyone else. I don’t anymore. Not after Ian.”

“Whether she ruled over all the lands and seas or was the Queen of nothing but a pile of ashes and bones, she would—will—always be my Queen. Love is too weak an emotion to describe how she consumes me and what I feel for her. She is my everything.”

“Showing concern and empathy for the mortals doesn’t mean I have no concern for my people. Thinking of their futures means I’m thinking of our future, for they will be intertwined, whether wanted or not. It is the only successful path forward as we will not retreat beyond the Skotos Mountains. This war will be the last one.

“No matter what the prophecy says, I have free will. I control my actions. I wouldn’t do something like that. I won’t take part in whatever Isbeth thinks I will do.”

“You’re the one who taught me that I cannot save everyone. But I can save those I love.”

“I am not mortal. Neither am I Atlantian. I am a god. And I will not choose between the mortals and the Atlantians when I can choose both.”

“That’s…gods, that’s my Queen.”

“You’re right. Casteel would never want me to take such a risk, not even for him. Not even when he would do the same if it were me who had been taken. But he also wouldn’t try to stop me.”

“I am not the Harbinger. I carry the blood of the King of Gods in me, and those who reside in these walls do not speak to any god—or for them. They are your enemy. Not us.”

“My beautiful, brave Queen. I could stay here, holding you, forever.”