Chapter 266. A Reckless Bargain

Chapter 266: 266. A Reckless Bargain

Maisie

"No-no-no--" I cried as the Great Hall vanished around me. The people vanished. The red carpet split beneath me, my ceremonial staff slipping from my fingers as I plunged into the abyss of darkness.

Everything was wiped away like smoke.

And I reached for the last fragments of it, sobbing as my fingers closed around nothing. And all I saw was darkness.

I hit the ground hard enough to drive the air from my lungs. For several seconds, I couldn’t move, wretched sobs slipping out of me as I remembered.

None of it was real.

When I opened my eyes, I expected to be back at the Academy, back at the wrecked field, the misery of grey that had become my life.

But instead, I saw ash drifting from the skies. I was surrounded by a wreckage so whole, it took me a moment to realize I was at the Academy.

Everything was destroyed. The walls had collapsed completely, and the reek of death coated my throat, my tongue, and I gagged at my first intake of air.

I staggered as I straightened, finding myself standing all alone in the debris. "Quinlan?" My voice returned to me in echoes with no response.

My hands were shaking. "Mercer?" Nothing. My heart began pounding painfully. "Jericho? Soren?"

Still nothing.

A pained moan came from behind me and I whirled, choking on a cry at the shape buried under the ash and fallen wall.

I stumbled forward. "No."

The closer I came, the harder it became to breathe. Everything was gone. Everyone was gone.

Stones dug into my knees as I fell and dug my fingers into the debris, ripping rock after rock off, tears blurring my vision. My fingertips tore and blood dripped, but I didn’t stop until I got to the bottom of it.

And when I did, I screamed.

And screamed. And screamed.

My fingers spread found his face. "Soren," I sobbed. He was barely recognisable, his body a contorted mix of burned flesh, but I knew him. I would always know him.

"No," I told myself. "No. No,no. No," I repeated, like it would change something or make a difference. My thumbs rubbed over the leathery skin. "I-I’ll find help--"

I tried to stand, but my legs gave out. I crawled back to him. "I’ll find someone--J-Jericho will know what to do--" I looked wildly around the ruins. "Jericho! Quinlan! Oh gods."

I pressed my forehead to his, the words coming apart in ragged sobs. "I c-can’t do this again--can’t do this again--please!"

Laughter echoed in the ruins, soft applauding teasing my ear. "Oh, but I’ve never had anything as sweet as the taste of your despair."

The body in my arms crumbled to dust, as did everything else, swept away by an unseen wind.

I lifted my gaze to find swirling gold ones trained on me. I looked around me. "What is this? All of this?"

He halted in front of me, dropping into a crouch. "I gave you what you wanted. A glimpse at what it could be like if we worked together, and a different version of our little partnership perishes--"

"Take me back. My mates need me," I snarled, hearing the distant sound of screaming, even if I couldn’t see a single thing.

"Do they?" he chuckled, reaching forward to catch a strand of my black hair. It instantly bled icy-white and fell off my head. "I have a riddle for you, Maisie Adams. Answer me and I shall consider your request."

I swallowed.

He plucked another strand of my hair. "A little girl sits alone upon a bridge. Behind her, the road has already collapsed. Every step backward leads only to death.

His eyes lifted to mine. "Before her lies a road she has never walked. At its end is a life beyond anything she ever allowed herself to imagine. Joy. Wealth. Love. Children. A home. A crown. A happily ever after."

The strand turned to ice again. "Tell me, sweetling, why does the girl choose to walk back into death?"

"Because death is all she knows. Because... she is afraid," I whispered.

He leaned closer. "Are you afraid, sweetling?"

My fingers curled into fists. "None of this is real, so it doesn’t matter--"

"But it could be," that dark voice of his purred, slithering into my mind, leaving with it a sound of untainted laughter, happiness, and my heart raced as I began to reach for it without realising it.

"How?"

His thumb ran across my cheek, threading over my lips. "The stone. I could teach you to use it. It doesn’t merely travel worlds you know. A mere ruby it may seem but in the hands of its keeper, it could transcend time too." I stopped breathing when he added, "It could take you back."

My eyes widened. That couldn’t be... true. There was no such thing as... travelling back in time to change things... and even if there were...

"You wouldn’t take the risk?" he cooed, finishing my thoughts. "What would Jennifer Park think if she learned you had a chance to bring back her brother and refused to? Wouldn’t you like to fix the issue of your barrenness before your precious mates discovered you were fruitless as a wasteland?"

I flinched.

"Wouldn’t you like to return to that night and change it all?" His other hand creeped over mine, expanding my palm, and I watched him slit my palm down the center, until my blood pooled in my palm. "I could take you back there, sweetling. Back to where it all began. I could kill her for you."

At this words, and image of Tessa flickered into my vision. Her hands were in Mercer’s hair and she was kissing him.

My nostrils flared and the image dissolved swiftly.

The dragon leaned into me, his cold breath teasing my ear. "Or I could take you farther than that. Back to the transition." Another image formed in the air in front of me. My hands were tied to the bed and Jericho’s face was between my thighs.

The dragon smiled against my ear. "They don’t know, do they? That you were present the entire time. Sane. Wanton. Animal, yes, but it was all you."

My body tightened just from the thought of it and I shook my head viciously. "Get out of my head."

"Which will it be?" he drawled. "Does the girl brave a step forward, or does she remain cowering where she withers and dies?"

The images appeared again.

Tessa with Mercer. Tessa being marked by my mates. Tessa being named queen. Tessa living a life that should’ve been mine.

Rage, bitter and poisonous, filled my chest, but the images flickered, a bittersweet mix of moments and people. My father, Lyon, the first time Soren kissed me, walking into Greymoor for the first time with the Lycans. My carefree laughter with my friends.

A thousand different moments where one choice could’ve changed everything. And I wanted my life back so badly, I would give anything for it.

I could go back.

The second the thought sank in, it refused to let go. I could see it. I could change everything, I could have everything--

There’s always a cost.

The words came from a distinct memory from the second time I summoned Gruer at a rundown motel in Munich. It was the first time I had asked him for information and at his lousy and unsurprisingly outrageous payment, I’d asked why he kept charging me if he knew I couldn’t pay for it.

"Where I come from, nothing is ever given freely. The words, the devil’s bargain didn’t originate from this world, you know. In my world, bargains and promises are usually one of the surest ways to land yourself in a deep puddle of shit.

"Be glad I am the better of my lot. The worst of us would’ve deceived you into giving your will away and used you for their own benefit. There’s always a larger game at play. There’s always a cost."

"What do you want?"

The dragon stilled, and I forced myself to look away from the vision of my beautiful future, and back in those swirling gold eyes. "If you teach me to do this," I said, "what’s in it for you?"

His fingers wrapped around mine hard enough to hurt me. "Nothing, sweetling. I have lived long enough to learn that the greatest gifts are often given freely."

Nothing ever came freely. That much I knew, but I wanted something else for a change. I wanted to be happy. I wanted that life he’d shown me. I was tired of fighting.

"Show me," I said.

His eyes crinkled with a pleased smile and he pulled away, weaving his way around me. His hands rested on my shoulders and his mouth brushed my ear. "The stone, where is it?"

"The Queen has it," I responded.

"If she is within range, you should be able to feel it." His voice filled my ears, my head. "It is connected to you. Always. And it doesn’t matter how many skins you shed, like calls to like. Do you know what makes you so special?"

My head shook of its own volition.

"Death has left quite the mark on you," he chuckled. "Close your eyes, little Thorne."