The Last Queen Book Five by Odette C. Bell

Author:Odette C. Bell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Odette C. Bell

Chapter 5

We arrive in one of the rooms in Senator Rogers’ headquarters.

Specifically, we arrive in my room.

I’ve spent the most time here hiding from Spencer over the past several days, so my memory of this place is the strongest.

We arrive right in the center of the room, and as magic ebbs and flows around me, I fall to my knees, my body feeling instantly as if it’s possessed of impossible strength and yet impossible weakness.

I swear I feel every single sensation under the sun. I swear I become every single sensation under the sun, too, until my form is whittled down to nothing more than pain and the light touch of a kiss and the weakness of death and the heat of a fire. It’s this confusing, impossible-to-explain mix that rushes through me and owns me for several seconds until my head jerks back and I gasp.

Slowly my consciousness returns to my real body, and I bring up my free hand, staring at it before I slap it on my chest. I drive it in hard as I breathe with all my strength.

Though Matrexia has also fallen down to one knee, she swiftly stands.

She lets go of my hand, turns on her foot, and stares at me.

Her eyes are wide and bright with knowing.

Slowly, I tilt my head back, my messy hair bunching around my neck.

Maybe this is where I should say that she was the one who cast the warp spell. Though that would work on someone idiotic like Spencer, she was connected to me at the time, and Matrexia has never been an idiot.

“You play a game,” she says as she brings her fingers up and plants her hands lightly on her hips. Though the move is technically graceful, it’s also pregnant with warning. Because, although her touch is light, her muscles are held rigidly, as if they are springs getting ready to snap into action.

I keep my hand flattened on my chest as I continue to gasp in breath after breath. Finally, I find my nerve, and I stagger to my feet.

My body, quite rightly, feels like it’s been compressed and stretched and then compressed again.

Though it takes me a while to find my balance, as soon as I do, I tilt my head up and stare at her. “So what happens now? Spencer is still busy,” I add.

Is it a threat? Is this me telling her that her king isn’t here, and there’s no one to protect her from me?

Or is it just an acknowledgment of our current predicament?

You see, I have absolutely no idea how Matrexia will react.

Before I’d seen her unmistakable emotion, if you’d asked me, I would’ve said she was nothing more than a shadow. A creature incapable of emotion because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t her brain and personality that were replicated – it was her power. Ultimately, her brain and personality – and all the desires and beliefs they entailed – were irrelevant. For what’s a queen but a tool? And no one needs their tools to feel.

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