My only regret is that my parents didn’t live to see the life I’ve made for myself here. They would have loved my people as much as I do. My father would have loved Jaxon’s protectiveness and Flint’s ridiculous sense of humor. My mother would have loved Macy’s sassiness and how often Hudson pushes me to stand up for myself.
It’s as I remember my mother, my laughing, smiling mother, that an image shimmers before me, so clear that I can almost reach out and touch it.
My knees. My knees hurt so much. Scraped so badly by the concrete that a few trickles of blood are running down my leg and seeping into my pretty pink socks. Tears are falling down my cheeks now as I ask my dad why he didn’t catch me before I fell. And I can see his heart break that he wasn’t there for me. He should have been. But he wasn’t. He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and tells me he’s sorry, that we can try again later. He’ll catch me tomorrow. And then he’s reaching down to grab my hand, to walk me and my bike home. And I am so sad.
I didn’t learn to ride my bike today. Instead, I fell down. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t do it. My knees ache, but that feeling that I’ve failed my parents, that I’ve failed myself, hurts more than any scrape ever could. I look up to see if my mom is ashamed of me, too, but she’s smiling down. Her eyes twinkling with unconditional love.
“You’ve got this, honey.” She takes my hand and squeezes, then darts a quick look to my dad to encourage him to step back and give me room. “Now, get up. Get up, Grace.”
And she smiles at me. A smile so filled with love, so filled with confidence and hope and warmth, that I feel it explode inside me, envelop me in its strength and power. So much power, sizzling just below the surface. Waiting for me to touch it. To take it.
To use it.
And that’s when I know. When I recognize what this is.
This power lighting up every cell in my body isn’t just mine.
It’s Hudson’s.
And it is ungodly.
120
Fee, Fi, Fo, F*ck
I don’t know how Hudson knew I would need that memory at this point, right now, more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. Not just his power but my mother’s confidence in me, too. Maybe because he understood just how battered and broken and weary I would be coming into the end of this Trial. Or maybe because, after all this time trapped in my head, he just understands me.
I feel the ground rumble beneath my cheek, and I know Jaxon is doing everything he can to break down the barrier and get inside to save me. I hear Macy shouting spells, each one hitting the barrier like ringing the gong of a bell. And I know if Flint were here, he’d use every ounce of strength he had to burn the magic of the protective spell away.
But I don’t need them to save me, not this time. Thanks to Hudson, I’ve got this. Even if no one on this field knows it yet. Because Hudson is the only one who gave me the strength to pick myself back up again.
Even if it meant giving up the very essence of who he was. For me. A girl who spent the last two weeks hating him. Who was at one point willing to take from him that which he willingly gave.
I take a deep breath, let the power flow through me. And realize that he didn’t just give me some of his power. He gave it all to me.
And can I just say—holy hell! I knew Hudson was powerful, but I’m used to powerful. I was mated to Jaxon, after all, and in the world I come from, it doesn’t get much more powerful than that…or so I thought.
But the kind of power Hudson has? The kind of power that’s coursing through my body right now? It’s like nothing I ever could have imagined. Like nothing anyone I know could possibly imagine…even Jaxon.
I’m barely skating along the edges of it, and it feels like more than I can ever possibly hope to wield or contain. What would it feel like to have all that inside you? To know you could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted?
For a second—just a second—all the bits and pieces of what Hudson has told me over the last couple of weeks during our myriad conversations come together in my head.
Jaxon definitely got it wrong. Because if Hudson had really wanted to commit genocide, hell, if he really wanted to kill everyone, he wouldn’t have wasted his time with only using his gift of persuasion. I see it now, what he’s really capable of. With a mere thought, his enemies would have been turned to dust. Not just one. Or ten. Or even a thousand. All of them.
And now I can’t help wondering if the only reason Jaxon defeated Hudson is because Hudson let him win. Because I know, without a doubt, all I need to do is think of something and it will, quite simply, cease to be.
But I don’t have time to ponder this as Cole snickers and crouches down next to me, the goalpost still clutched in his hands like a child’s security blanket—more proof of just how weak he is.
As if I need more proof. I can’t believe this guy is alpha. He’s pathetic—I just never knew how pathetic until right now.
“I can’t wait until I’m done with you.” He sneers. “You don’t belong here. You’ve never belonged here. Foster’s just too chickenshit to admit that. But I’m not. I’m going to do everyone a favor and take care of you once and for all.”
Then he leans down to whisper in my ear. “And then I’m going to take care of Jaxon and Hudson. This is the time—can you feel it? Neither of them is looking quite like their old selves, are they? I have to admit, I was surprised to see Hudson was back. But hey, gives me a chance to kill him myself for the mess he made of my plans last year.”
He nods to the others to get out of the way. And then he lifts the goalpost, preparing to deliver the blow that will guarantee an end to the game and likely an end to me.
In the background, Nuri’s whistle is blowing loud and sharp, but Cole isn’t paying any attention to it. And neither is anyone else. Which is fine with me. Because now that Hudson’s power has spread all the way through me, now that I can feel it in every single part of me, I know exactly what to do. Because no way is Cole going to touch a hair on Jaxon’s or Hudson’s heads.
Not after everything they’ve done for me.
Not after everything they’ve been to me.
“They could destroy you with nothing but a thought,” I hiss at him. “But by the time I’m done, they won’t have to.”
And so I dissolve the vines holding me to the ground with nothing more than the whisper of an idea in my head. I plant one hand on the ground and stagger to my feet, the agonizingly painful ball still clutched in my hand and Hudson’s power flowing through my veins. It mixes with my gargoyle, grows even more powerful…then touches on something else deep inside me. Something I can feel but don’t yet have a name for.