The Queen of All that Lives
Page 86

He’s worked so hard for so long to keep me alive. All because that wretched heart of his loved me.
I have to draw on all the worst parts of me to keep my feet moving forward and my arm steady.
Perhaps Montes isn’t guilty of all the depravity I initially attributed to him. It doesn’t matter. Somewhere along the way, he lost his humanity. Whether or not he flicked that first domino and set events in motion no longer matters. We both have done too many unforgivable things. The blood on his hands, the blood on mine … It’s time for us to pay.
He rises to his feet, his eyes moving from my father’s gun to my face. He drinks in my expression, his eyes pained.
“I knew you hated me when we met, Serenity,” he says. “I knew you even hated me when I married you. But I never knew it ran this deep.”
The blackened lump of coal that is my heart breaks.
Another thunderous boom tears through the hall. The ground shakes and the fire flickers.
For a second, Montes turns his head to the side, listening to the sound of his palace going up in flames. Everything he spent lifetimes building is being torn down before his eyes.
The soldier in me who fought for the WUN, the one who lost her family and nation to this man, she revels in the retribution. The rest of me simply weeps.
Montes’s attention returns to me.
Had I thought before that he was majestic? Otherworldly? Now, even when he knows his empire is collapsing right in front of him and his wife has turned traitor, he looks untouchable. His shoulders are straight, his eyes still deep with secrets. That timeless face dares me to finish what I’ve begun.
“Do it.” Montes walks forward, lifting his chin in defiance. “I’m tired of fighting. If you think this is right, then do it.”
I taste smoke on my tongue. All around us, the king’s mansion burns.
There is no happy ending for people like us.
Cold resolve takes over.
I cock the gun and point it at the king.
All those years ago my father told me a story about my name, my birthright. I was named Serenity for the peace I brought my mother. Peace has been the very thing my life has lacked. And my father told me long ago that in order to find peace, I had to forgive.
In front of me is the one man who has always stood between me and that.
A tear slides down my cheek, and then another.
After all this time and all the awful things we’ve done to each other, I finally, truly understand my father’s words.
Montes. The Undying King of the East. My nightmare, my beautiful monster, my enemy and my soul mate.
I forgive him.
My throat tightens up.
This is what happens when you love and hate something.
I know what I have to do. I’ve always known.
“I love you, Montes,” I say.
His eyes widen at my admission.
And then I make good on my age old vendetta—
I pull the trigger and kill the undying king.
Chapter 52
Serenity
There are many types of death.
There’s the literal one, the one I am most familiar with. You stab a man in the chest and watch him bleed out. If you do it right, you will see his life and his soul slip out with all that blood.
But then there are other types of death. No one ever talks about those. The death of your identity. The death of your dreams. The death of your innocence.
I know all of death’s pseudonyms, because he and I are very good friends. He’s been my shadow since I was a child.
And he’s here in this room with me and the king.
In an instant, the bullet cuts through skin, bone, and finally muscle. Not just any muscle either. The most important one.
The heart.
To kill the king, I had to kill a part of myself. A hundred years ago he took my heart and never gave it back. Montes might be the only person who would want that rotted organ of mine.
He clutches his chest, his eyes wide with shock. The king staggers, and my lips begin to tremble as I hold back all the emotion that’s welling inside me.
I holster my weapon, and grab the gun that I dropped earlier, clipping it back into place as well. And then I approach the king.
I walk amidst the flames to get to him. The most terrible thing in the world might be fire. That’s why hell is always imagined as an inferno.
But fire doesn’t just burn, it transforms. And here in this blazing building, as Montes’s palace and his life fall to ashes, it’s not the end. Of him. Of us. Of our efforts.
If you can survive the flames, what becomes of you?
The two of us are about to find out.
I hook my arms under the king’s shoulders. His eyes have slid shut. I begin to drag him, forcing my muscles to move faster than they ever have.
The clock is ticking, and time is not my friend.
From the wings of the entryway, Marco steps out.
He must’ve seen the entire thing. His eyes are red, though I can’t say whether it’s from remorse or the burning smoke that hangs thick throughout this place.
“Let me help you,” he says.
I shake my head, not slowing down in the least.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
“Call the men we’re rendezvousing with, then clear a path for me outside. I’ll be heading out the back main entrance.”
He hesitates.
“Now!” I bark.
That’s all the encouragement he needs. He leaves my side, racing back down the long hallway, his form disappearing in the haze.
I begin to move in earnest, straining all my muscles to drag the king as quickly as possible.