Though he knew he could speak to her in there, there were no words. Nothing that could be said, but he refused to watch her die. He would stay. Tethered to her mind until her final breath, willing his own soul to follow hers into the dark abyss when that last flicker of light disappeared.
There, he thought to himself.
Within her, a spark of power flickered—weak, fragile, resisting his grasp. Max reached for it, feeling it pulse beneath his touch, slipping through his fingers like water. Pain exploded in his chest, tearing through his muscles, but he held on, teeth gritted, forcing the power to bend the tempest to his will.
He wasn’t gentle.
He couldn’t be.
He took it, feeling it burn him from the inside, scorching his very soul.
Max felt her bones breaking, the snaps echoing in his chest as he teleported the few feet that flicker of power would allow.
The agony fused with adrenaline.
Max lunged.
His hands found his father’s head.
The bones snapped, the sound too brief to match the years of hatred coursing through him, but as his father’s body crumpled, Max realized it wasn’t vengeance he needed.
It was her.
It wasalwaysher.
Three bodies hit the ground.
Max pulled Sin into him. Though he couldn’t speak, he held her as tightly as he could.
He didn’t know how long they had been embracing when he felt something slide against the floor.
In horror, they slowly looked over, and his father was crouching himself to stand. Max lunged, desperation thundering in his heart. His father waved a hand—magic slammed them both against the wall.
Panic gripped Max, helpless fury roaring inside his chest as they hit.
The two of them held onto one another as the king approached them—when he saw Gideon appear in the doorway.
Max cradled Sin’s head, pulling her face into his chest as Max closed his eyes, giving his father the appearance of their defeat. Their presence became louder, Oliver shouting and trying to pull him back, followed by a sickening crunch, and the sound of the king’s voice. “No,” he breathed.
Max watched, frozen in horror as Gideon’s body folded in half with a sickening crack, bones snapping in a grotesque display of force. His brother’s eyes—once filled with determination—went wide, empty, staring at nothing as he crumpled to the ground, discarded like a broken doll.
Blood splattered across the walls, and Max’s vision blurred, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t move, couldn’t save him. He was powerless.
His little brother was gone.
Sin’s eyes widened, her face a mask of shock, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze around them. Max gritted his teeth in pain, unable to make a sound without his vocal cords.
The king’s hands were shaking until he pulled them into fists. An unbelievable pain sounded in his father’s throat, not reflecting the hatred he had shown Gideon in the past, before Max’s mother appeared in the doorway.
She took in the king, the sight of Max behind him, and the body of her youngest son on the floor in a grotesque sight.
Magic crackled, lighting the room in bursts of color.
Bolts collided, rippling with explosive force as the king unleashed his power on her.
She didn’t move aside from the scales shifting along her skin, the predatory eyes narrowing to slits.
The room trembled, and her body twisted amidst the chaotic clash of his magic against her scales.
