“But not because I love him. Or maybe I do—”
Cole scoffed.
“But not the way I love you. It’s like...” She struggled for how to put it. “I feel something for him. We’re connected. We just are. But Cole, the love I feel for Serrin is nothing compared to the love I feel for you.”
“Then stay here,” Cole said. “Stay here and love me, and let me love you.”
Willow’s hand crept back to the Box as if beckoned. “When I think of Serrin, what rises up isn’t longing. It’s... worry. It’s the need to protect him.”
Something flashed in Cole’s eyes, both vulnerable and furious.
“Severine is his mother, Cole. She’s also a woman who burns babies into monsters just to punish their parents. What do youthink she’ll do when her own son challenges her? When he tries to lift up the very people she’s devoted herself to keeping down?”
“He’s a big boy,” Cole said. It came out like a growl. “Let him take care of himself.”
“He’s not, though!” Willow cried. “He’s... a kid in a young man’s body. And Severine’s not just dangerous. She’s a nightmare in the shape of a woman. How can Serrin protect himself from a threat he doesn’t understand?”
“How can you?” Cole countered. “What if you go back and Severine imprisons you?” He took her chin and made her look at him. “What if she has the Secret Sisters punish you—the way she punishes anyone who steps out of line?”
She would not think of Jace. She wouldn’t—she wouldn’t.
“I’ll go and come back, just one last time.”
“Don’t,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, Willow. Don’t leave me again.”
Willow blinked back tears. Her lower lip trembled, but she willed it still.
Wordlessly, she turned to the Box and lifted the lid. She climbed inside and folded herself into the space, a wooden coffin carved just for her. She pulled down the lid, and blackness closed over her.
~
She braced herself for the rush and chaos that came with crossing worlds, but the air stayed still. No movement, no shift—just the heavy hush of wood and dark.
The Box held its shape. And it held her, too. Right where she was.
She swallowed, heart beginning to race. Had she done something wrong? Why was the Box rejecting her?
Please.Please.
She thought of dragons’ roars and tiny toes. She saw the pond, covered with scum. She saw Severine covered with scum—and her mouth stretched wide in a soundless scream. The churning was so much worse this time, the pressure enough to flatten her.
As before, all sound dulled. Water pressed in from every side—green, vast, thick as jelly. And pressing in from the other side, her face as vast as the universe, was Severine.
You are not welcome here,she said, not with her mouth but with her mind.You outlived your usefulness.
A great hand replaced Severine’s face, cold jelly fingers pressing into Willow’s mouth, her eyes, her nostrils. Willow kicked and thrashed.
Go,Severine said,back to the mire where you belong.
Willow thought of Serrin. She thought of poor Jace. She bit down hard, and Severine cried out, yanking her hand away.
You’re the one who does it!Willow said.You choose who is blighted. You think it’s all a game.
Severine’s face loomed large again. Monstrous.Isn’t it? Faeries are playthings. Mortals, too.
Willow shook her head. How could she get through to Severine’s heart if Severine had no heart?
Serrin,she said.
