Raja’s laughter echoed once more, and then his form began to shift, dissolving into smoke.
“Another time, Alpha,” he mocked. “Another time.” And he was gone.Poof.As if he’d never been.
Fane’s wolf roared when he realized that their prey had gotten away. All the control Fane had wrangled while dealing with Gerick was ripped from his grasp as he released his rage in a bellow that shook the earth beneath him.
Peri turned to Fane. “Enough!” Her magic slammed into him like a wall, forcing him to his knees. “You’re going to kill them all if you don’t get a grip.”
Fane’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he forced himself under control. He reached for his mate, wrapped his arms around her. He grounded himself in her scent and let her warmth chase away the cold darkness filling him. His wolf receded reluctantly, his body shrinking back to its normal size, but the fury lingered in the background waiting to be let free.
Jewel and Dalton were gone. Myanin was missing. Gerick was falling apart. Fane had failed them all.
Chapter 14
“Damn. I did not see any of that coming.” ~ Celise
The room pulsed with dark energy, each beat like a drum in her veins. Celise stepped to the next circle, the warlock within its confines still struggling against the invisible bindings of the blood-magic circle. The woman’s black robes were smeared with dirt and magic residue, her once-confident sneer now replaced with a mask of fear.
“You thought you were untouchable, didn’t you?” Celise drawled. She twirled the dagger lazily between her fingers as she moved closer, her steps measured and deliberate. The sound of her boots against the wooden floor was sharp and echoed in the tense silence of the room.
The warlock spat at Celise, and the glob of saliva landed near her boot. “You’re no better than me, sprite,” she hissed, her voice trembling despite the venom in her words. “You think you’re righteous, but you’re just another monster hiding behind a pretty face.”
Celise smirked and crouched down just out of the warlock’s reach. The dagger stilled in her hand, its blade catching the faint, flickering light of the candles. “You’re right,” she said sweetly. “I am a monster. But unlike you, I don’t pretend to be anything else.”
The warlock’s defiance faltered as her dark eyes darted to the dagger and then back to Celise’s face. The air between them was thick with tension, the metallic tang of blood from the pixie still hanging heavily in the room.
Celise tilted her head, her smirk widening. “You spent your life taking from others. Power, lives, whatever you wanted. Did you really think there wouldn’t be a reckoning?”
The warlock’s hands clawed at the invisible bindings around her wrists. “You don’t have to do this! I can help you! I know spells, secrets—things you’ve never even dreamed of. Let me go, and I’ll share them with you!” Celise could hear the warlock’s desperation.
Celise’s laughter cut through the warlock’s pleas like a blade. “Oh, you poor, pathetic thing,” she mocked. “You really think you have anything I need?”
Without another word, Celise stepped into the circle. The warlock’s body jerked as the magic surged around them, binding them together in a web of power. Celise felt the pull immediately, the dark essence of the warlock’s magic clawing at her like a living thing.
The warlock screamed as Celise raised the dagger, her voice raw and piercing. “No! Please! Don’t?—”
The blade plunged into the warlock’s chest, silencing her mid-sentence. The sound of steel meeting flesh was wet and sickening, and it was followed by the crackling of raw magic as the circle absorbed the warlock’s essence.
Celise twisted the blade. She stared, unflinching, as the woman’s body spasmed beneath her. Blood poured from the wound, pooling around them and soaking into the lines of the circle. The warlock’s magic flared one last time—a desperate, chaotic burst that sent shivers through the air before it was snuffed out entirely.
The room seemed to hold its breath as the warlock’s body went limp, her head lolling to the side. Her dark eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling, and her lips parted in a final, silent plea.
Felspar’s voice rose behind Celise, his chanting growing louder and more insistent. The air around them crackled with power. Each word he spoke wove the spell tighter, binding the stolen magic to Celise’s sisters.
“How is your magic?” Celise turned her head toward Limaria.
The silver-haired sprite held up her hands, her expression unreadable as she stared at the faint glow emanating from her palms. “It’s back,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with awe.
Celise gave a curt nod, her gaze flicking to the other two circles. “Good. Let’s finish this.”
She moved to the troll next. Its massive body trembled with barely contained rage. The stench of rotting flesh clung to it, and Celise’s stomach churned as she stepped closer.
“You’ve lived your whole life preying on the weak. Now, you’ll finally be good for something.”
The troll roared at Celise, its voice shaking the walls, but it couldn’t break free of the circle’s magic. Celise didn’t hesitate. She drove her dagger into its thick neck, the blade sinking deep into the leathery flesh.
The troll’s blood was black and viscous, and it poured out in thick streams that hissed as it hit the glowing lines of the circle. The smell was putrid, a nauseating mix of sulfur and decay that made Celise’s eyes water.
The creature’s struggles grew weaker, and its massive hands clawed at the floor as its life drained away. Celise watched impassively, her grip steady on the dagger as the troll’s body finally stilled.
