Ethan and Lena? Liv and John? Macon and Marian? Whatever. This wasn’t about them anymore.
This was about us.
I should’ve known we wouldn’t get off easy. No Caster goes down without a fight, even when you think the fight is over. No Caster lets you ride off into the sunset on some lame white unicorn or in your boyfriend’s beat-up excuse for a car.
What’s a Caster fairy-tale ending?
I don’t know, because Casters don’t get to have fairy tales—especially not Dark Casters. Forget the sunset. I’ll tell you how the whole castle burned to the ground, taking Prince Charming down with it.
I’ll tell you how to turn that prince into a frog and spin a little gold into straw—just in time for the Seven Dwarfs to go all ninja and drop-kick your butt straight out of the kingdom.
That’s what a Dark Caster fairy tale looks like.
What can I say? Payback’s a bitch.
But here’s the thing:
So am I.