It proved Shim was alive, no matter what he said. Shim still felt and ate and complained about the cold.
She shook and her insides felt like they would burst, and she held on to those simple thoughts. She heard the hags argue and then another wave hit, the mist filling her whole being. Her limbs shook and her bones ached. She tried to remember every inch of their faces and how they liked to hold her. Shim would snuggle, his body cuddling hers, his legs moving between hers as though he was trying to make them one. And Lach. Lach would surround her, pushing the world out until it was only the two of them. Nothing compared to being between them. When she was cuddled between them, everything was right.
The fog lifted, and she was left shaken.
“That’s better.” The hags hadn’t bothered to introduce themselves. There was a wretchedly thin one and the other resembled a glob of rancid pudding with eyes. Bron couldn’t stand to be around either. She’d preferred it when they had hidden their true faces.
The thin one looked at her critically. “I don’t know. She still looks pretty healthy to me. And we’d better hurry, dear one. Did you feel that eddy cloud?”
The puddle of goo with eyes replied. “I did, sister. The triad is here along with her husbands. We knew this would happen. We counted on it. They should breach the palace walls, and then Torin will be slaughtered and we’ll have her power. Do you understand what that means? The little idiot doesn’t know how to use it, but I will be able to.”
Bron kept her face perfectly still. She didn’t need them to know that she was well aware of how to use her power. She intended to use it on them.
“Are you sure? You thought you would be able to hear them by now.” The emaciated one tapped her foot against the floor, her cold eyes darting around.
Her sister sneered Bron’s way. A long, taloned hand pointed toward her. “I just need one more soul. Hers. She’s the key, but then we figured that out long ago. Our mistake was in trusting Torin. He was supposed to have caught her and brought her for execution.”
“Instead the dumb bastard just killed her. I wonder how she came back. I’m sure she was dead.”
The big hag with cold, dead eyes stalked toward her. She put a hand on her chest, right above Bron’s heart. “All things will be learned when we pry that damn soul out of her body. And then I’ll be the one who binds her husbands, and I’ll be the one with the power.”
The idea of this odious woman having access to her husbands’ power made Bron sick.
The slender one frowned. “I don’t see why it has to be you.”
The hags continued to argue as they raced to get the ingredients for another spell. This one, Bron was sure, would nearly kill her and she didn’t dare open herself. Not yet.
She would have to be strong. When she opened wide, she would pull their power, and there would be no going back.
The hags began to walk toward her when the cell door opened and Torin raged in.
He stopped in front of her, giving her a once-over, his eyes narrowing and his lips thin. A spark of recognition hit him, but he turned from her as though she didn’t deserve a moment’s notice.
Her uncle was older, his hair gone to silver. He looked nothing like the man who would sit at her father’s side and talk at night. He was wrinkled now, care and guilt obviously taking their toll. But he was still strong. He hauled two guards with him.
“Take the hags into custody,” Torin announced, his voice ringing out.
The hags laughed. They stood their ground, staring down the guards. “I don’t think they want to do that, Your Majesty. They might discover they prefer their man parts on the outside of their bodies.”
The guards hesitated. They were all here.
I’m ready. She sent the message out to everyone, but especially to her loves.
And then Maris entered the room. Bron couldn’t believe it. She should have run the minute she’d convinced Torin to find her. Maris should have fled the castle or joined the bondmates. It had been her and Niall’s job to ensure their safety.
The hags began their threats and Torin his screams for vengeance. He didn’t even look Bron’s way. But Maris did. She moved in close. She still wore her thin, diamond-and-gold crown.
“Do it,” Maris whispered.
Bron shook her head. Despite all the chaos Maris had caused, she couldn’t kill her. She’d repented in her way. “I can’t. You know I can’t. Maris, you know what’s going to happen.”
Maris whispered. “I’ve protected the others with a spell and Niall is with them. Fire won’t touch them. And I always knew this was how I would end. I don’t want to live, Bronwyn. I want to go home, and my home is no longer here. Do it or I will tell them what’s happening. You will lose your chance. You will lose everything.”
Bron was weak again. So weak. She felt sick, her stomach rolling. She could barely move her fingers. How would she do what she needed to do? Misery swamped her. She had been so close, but she was going to fail. She was going to let them all down. Her people. Her brothers. Her loves. Herself.
Her vision was starting to fade.
A cool wind buoyed her and a familiar voice filled her head. “Then take my strength, daughter. It was always meant for you and Beck and Cian. My children.”
Her father floated in front of her, the hags and Torin ignoring him as they continued their argument. Her father kept his eyes on her. “Tell them I did love them. My sons. They will make great kings, and you are already a queen. You didn’t need a crown, Bron. You only needed your strong heart.”
He moved forward, his essence merging with hers.
The whispers died, but she was shot through with life. Her father had given her everything. He’d waited, given up his after, to give her one last gift. One last chance at life. She was suffused with energy. She brimmed with it. She could do this.
“What just happened?” the skinny one asked, looking around the room as though searching for a threat.
She took a step back, her will a palpable thing. In that moment, she felt like a queen.
The hags cackled and Torin yelled. The guards began to tap their swords looking for something to kill. Bron could hear her compatriots waiting for the time and the time was now.
Bronwyn did what she’d been born to do. She opened her soul and connected them all. A hundred bondmates, their power soaring and reaching out. The hag who had eaten all those souls gasped, and Bron realized the hag’s mistake. The hag was Bronwyn’s, caught in a net of her own making. Those souls that lived inside her wanted to be free, and Bronwyn gave them a way, a path to the after.
The large hag shook and her head fell back, all the souls rushing out through her mouth and eyes and ears, killing her in an instant.
Torin turned and tried to flee, but Maris caught him. She fell to the floor, caught in the power. Her mouth opened and a scream rent the air, but she held on to Torin, dragging him down, keeping him close. Bron felt her will. This was for her. This was for her love and the girl she’d been. Maris believed in vengeance and she was at peace with death.
But Bron believed in love. Vengeance had burned away in the face of love. Love for her family and her husbands. Love for her people. Love for what was right in the world.
She was the vessel and it was right.
Bron felt the fire. It sizzled through her soul. She pulled it from Shim, dragging his power into her hands, and with a great yell she sent it out. It raced from her skin. Heat, white and hot, flashed through her, a great wave of purity. She sent it to engulf the hags and Torin and Maris, sent it out further to every soul on the hags’ leash. There was no way to free those they had corrupted except to send them to the after.