Crowntide by Alex Aster - 89

Isla forced Cronan’s crown onto her head, and the very world rippled. She became the gravity, the tide, the force between them all. Grim was nearly knocked off his feet. He had to anchor himself with his shadows.

The world settled, and all he saw was her, a queen of darkness and ruin, standing in a dark pool. Cronan was bowed before her—forced onto his knees.

Over the course of the last few minutes, while Isla and Cronan battled, Grim had wanted to step in a thousand times, but he had stopped himself. His heart was torn. It was racing . He was confused and worried any move he made would jeopardize his realm.

Isla turned to look at Grim, her eyes glowing with power, and all his defenses folded. She reached out her hand once more. “Together, we can destroy him. I know how.” Below her, the waters changed, showing a blade powerful enough to kill not only Cronan but all parts of his soul that had been scattered throughout the universe. “It’s hidden here, but in another time. I saw it, in his head.” Isla had Cronan’s crown, with the Threads of Time within it. She only needed Grim’s portaling ability to travel through time.

Together, they could find the blade and end him. They could save their world and everyone in it.

Grim took a step toward her—toward his wife . He took a step toward a future that he could hardly hope for.

This was real. He didn’t need to keep fighting. He could just fall into her and everything she promised. He took another step, until he was at the water’s edge.

There, he saw the reflection of her outstretched hand. Reaching toward him like she was now . . . but holding a dagger. The same one she wanted him to help her find, to end Cronan.

No. It was just one of many fates. He took another step toward her, and the moment his foot hit the pool, he saw it all. Every possibility. Every future. And he knew for certain that if he went with her right now, he would die.

The only chance he had to live was with Cronan.

Isla was still reaching for him. Her emotions were echoes of his own—hope and relief and wanting.

He remembered how her lips had felt against his, how her fingers had danced across his skin, how she had taught him that feeling didn’t just mean hurting. He remembered her strength against all odds, her unwavering belief in him, and how she looked at him like he was more than just a villain. He remembered the awe of watching her bring herself back to life, and how she had always taken down everything that stood between them.

She was infinite. She was his . She was his wife, and she was everything his life had always been missing.

Their hands brushed, and his blood heated in bone-deep knowing. Like his soul knew her, even if he didn’t.

She pulled him in, and he went with her, until their foreheads were pressed together. Until they were sighing against each other’s lips. Until his fingers were slipping through her hair. And around the crown on her head.

She stilled.

“I’m sorry,” Grim said, against her mouth. Then he broke through all her shields and defenses, because he was the only one who could.

He portaled the crown away. He hurled Cronan from the pool with a wave of shadows.

Finally, his abilities turned to her. His salvation.

His ruin .

But as his darkness rushed toward her, to imprison her, to keep her from finding this blade and sealing his fate, he felt something hook through his chest and pull.

His eyes met hers, and dread filled his veins. “No,” he whispered. Not again .

The last thing he saw was the devastation on her face as she and the pool portaled away.