Page 178 of Reign

Mabina grasped the back of Isobel’s neck, drawing her close. “I cannot lose you,” she murmured, her anger softening to reveal the fear she’d been masking.

A faint smile appeared on Isobel’s lips as she reached forward to wipe a splatter of blood from Mabina’s cheek. “I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years—I like my odds of surviving another day.”

As the relentless torrent of rain continued, the fae united, their bond deepening amid the chaos.

Just beyond them, I spotted Finn weaving through lifeless bodies as he advanced toward me. His hand gripped that of a woman—for a fleeting moment, I mistook her for Avice, with her auburn hair and unwavering eyes fixed on Finn. But it couldn’t be Avice; she’d been gone for many months.

It was Jane.

She gasped, her voice quivering, “When will this end?”

I scanned the scene, finding nothing but the injured and dead strewn across the sands. I imagined it wouldn’t be long till there were no survivors at all.

Finn drew Jane close, wrapping an arm around her trembling frame as she rested her head upon his shoulder, her auburn hair soaked through to the scalp.

“Regina’s forces are faltering,” I heard a familiar voice call out from behind me.

Elizebeth waded through the sands—her armor dented, skirt shredded, skin mottled with blood and guts. Her purple palms remained splayed, poised for any possible attack. I mirrored her stance, not wanting to feel falsely safe and let my guard down.

“One final push and I pray Regina will fall from grace,” Elizebeth said, voice cracking in slight relief.

Jane sighed, her eyes as rosy as her lips from all the tears she’d shed.

Elizebeth looked her way, offering a reassuring smile.

With sadness in her eyes, Jane met her gaze. As the corners of her mouth began to pucker, something around Elizebeth’s neck snagged her attention, halting her grin.

“Where did you get that?” Jane demanded, pulling away from Finn’s embrace to study the shiny pendant hanging around Elizebeth’s neck.

For a moment, Elizebeth looked stunned, as if taken aback by the witch asking for a jewelry recommendation amid the chaos of war.

“My father gave it to me,” she said plainly, returning her gaze to the sea—focused on defending Lyonesse from any invaders.

“Has your father visited the Anchor recently?” Jane pressed, now reaching for the lump of gold.

Elizebeth stepped back, trying to avoid her curious fingers. But this made Jane even more suspicious.

Stomping her foot firmly into the sands, Jane said, “Your father stole that from me!”

A sharp gasp escaped me, and I clasped a hand over my mouth, as if the truth might come tumbling out. What I’d suspected the night before in the Anchor was true—Jane was Elizebeth’s daughter.

Finn looked at me, confusion etched across his sweaty face as he tried to understand what was unfolding.

Elizebeth took a step back, putting distance between them. “It’s a family heirloom—I’ve had it all my life,” she said earnestly.

“Liar! That’s mine,” Jane spat, her pretty face contorting in a way I’d never seen before.

No longer reaching for the chain, she grappled Elizebeth’s neck, desperate to reclaim what she believed was hers. They struggled for a moment, and just as I was about to scream the truth to stop the tussle, Finn pushed himself between the witches. He pulled Jane away while she turned bright red with anger—just like Avice did when she was enraged.

“I’m certain that’s my locket—the one my mother gave to me,” Jane cried, her face twisted in distress.

Finn held her, trying to comfort her as she tipped between sorrow and fury.

As Elizebeth processed Jane’s anguish, her expression shifted from enraged to dumbfounded—a bewildered look in her eyes as she took in the whole of Jane, scanning her from head to heel.

She faltered, hands flying to her mouth, breath hitching in her throat—and I knew the truth had struck her like a lightning bolt.

Slowly, she edged toward the furious witch.