![]() ![]() ![]() Something throbbed in my hand: the beating pulse of the Witchwood arrow. “How was it ‘supposed’ to go? What did you come here to do? Show me, Meghan Chase.” “Show me, then.” Machina opened his arms wide. “No,” I muttered, struggling against the iron net. My head throbbed and I tried backing away, but the cables held me fast. Nor did you come for the Unseelie prince you claim to love. “You did not come for your brother, Meghan Chase. “No.” Machina shook his head, moving closer. “You kidnapped my brother, Ethan, to draw me here. ![]() What did I want? What had I come for? “My brother,” I answered, remembering. I shivered, keeping my hands at my sides as the tentacles caressed my skin. “Meghan Chase,” Machina murmured, running a hand through my hair. ![]() I stepped forward to meet him as the iron cables wrapped gently around me, drawing me close. Like an avenging angel, he floated toward me, hand outstretched, a sad, tender smile on his lips. Lightning flickered in the depths of his jet-black eyes, and the steel tentacles running the length of his spine and shoulders coiled around him like a cloak of wings, glinting in the light. His long black coat billowed behind him, accenting the pale, angular face and translucent skin, the blue-green veins glowing beneath the surface. The Iron King stood before me, magnificent in his beauty, silver hair whipping about like an unruly waterfall. ![]()
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