The wraith moves first. Not at my weapon, not at me—
She goes for the wrecked car behind me.
Oh, fuck.
The guys.
I whip around just in time to witness the absolute disaster. The car has spun off the road, slammed into a crumbling concrete divider. Smoke curls up from the hood, the metal twisted, the windows shattered.
Talon is already crawling out of the backseat, blood streaking down his temple. Nathaniel shoves his way out next, gripping his side, his expression twisted in pain. Cassian… Cassian is still inside.
The wraith notices. Oh, she knows. And she’s coming for them.
I don’t think. I act.
Whether it’s rage, desperation, or some divine mix of both, I’m suddenly between them before my brain even catches up. I don’t teleport this time—I just move faster than I ever have before, my scythe appearing in my grip like it’s answering some unspoken call.
I swing.
The blade slices through her, a burst of darkness exploding outward, and she screams. Just like before. But I’ve heard this song before, and frankly, I’m not in the mood for a repeatperformance. Last time, a stab wasn’t enough. This time, I need to destroy her. Wound her so hard she won’t just stay dead—she’ll regret ever existing in the first place.
I lunge, flipping my grip, my scythe whistling through the air in another vicious arc. This is it. No more cat and mouse. No more running. No more games. She dies here.
Except—
She vanishes.
Not flickers. Not dodges. Not twists away.
One moment, she’s there, still writhing, still snarling, still burning with whatever blasphemous hunger is keeping her tethered to this world—
And then she’s gone.
The air turns still. Eerily still. Her presence vanishes so fast it’s like the universeundidher. One second, I’m mid-murder, and the next? I’m swinging at absolutely nothing.
No.
No, no, no.
Can’t be. She couldn’t have just run away again.
I whip around, scanning the darkness, waiting. Any second now, she’ll respawn. I’ll hear that spine-curdling, distorted whisper creeping around the edges of my mind
But there’s nothing.
Not a flicker. Not a whisper of cold. Not a goddamn thing.
She’s gone.
A second passes. Then another.
I should refocus. Track her down. Hunt her. I know I can—I’m stronger now, faster, angrier. I’ll tear through the fabric of this godforsaken dimension if I have to. But then—
“Skye!”
Talon’s voice slams into me like a brick to the skull.
I turn, and—oh. Oh, shit.
