‘Good,’ Vera whispered, releasing a weary sigh as though setting down a lifetime of burdens. ‘Then I suppose it’s settled.’
‘I’m sorry this happened to you,’ Mal whispered, her voice trembling with remorse.
Vera gave a small shrug, her lips twitching into something that almost resembled a smile. ‘It was bound to happen. I was rotten, Mal. But… I did try, in the end. Promise me you’ll find Hagan and make him pay for all of this.’
‘I promise.’
Vera nodded, then glanced down at the sword buried in her stomach, her brows furrowing as though only now noticing the mortal wound. ‘Will it hurt, when we return?’
‘Probably,’ Mal admitted softly, ‘but not for long.’
Another nod, steadier this time. ‘Then let’s not waste any more time. Take me back.’
Mal hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade. She knew what awaited them on the other side of this twilight realm. When they stepped out of her world of shadows, it would only be Vera who remained. Whole for an instant, then broken, enduring an agonising death that even gods would wince to witness. Eris was gone now, banished back to her accursed realm, no doubt already spitting curses and weaving revenge.
‘Make them pay,’ Vera said, reaching for Mal’s hand and squeezing it with surprising strength. ‘Make them all pay.’
‘I promise,’ Mal breathed.
Vera inhaled, eyes closing, lashes trembling like the wings of a dying moth. Fear glimmered there, even as she tried to hide it. Mal did not wait any longer. She gathered Vera into her arms, and with one wrench of power, the shadows peeled away.
The real world slammed back into existence. Vera sagged against Mal’s embrace, ragged breaths rattling through her lungs before a wet cough splattered blood across Mal’s neck.
Then she collapsed, the sword still jutting cruelly from her stomach, crimson gushing like a spring freed from stone. Mal dropped to her knees beside her, cradling Vera’s broken form as a raw, guttural sob ripped free from her throat.
‘I’m sorry, Vera. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this to happen—’ Her words fractured as she looked up and sawAsh kneel at her side, his golden hands pressing desperately against the wound, trying to stem the endless tide.
Mal’s tear-streaked gaze locked on his, trembling fingers clutching at his arm. ‘Please, Ash… do something. Save her. Make it stop. Please, just make it stop. I thought I could do this…I took her to my realm and I tried to be strong…for her…but I can’t.’
Ash ripped his shirt in a single movement, pressing the fabric hard against the wound where the sword still jutted cruelly from Vera’s abdomen, desperate to stem the tide of blood spilling over his hands.
Mal lifted her tear-soaked gaze to Adriana, who stood above them like a shadowed sentinel, her obsidian eyes wide with horror, tears slipping freely down her cheeks.
Mal’s attention snapped back to Vera. With trembling fingers, she brushed away loose strands of white hair from the witch’s damp forehead, only to smear blood across skin like a cruel brand of mortality. Her hands shook harder, the grief clawing at her throat until the words barely scraped out.
‘Please… just make it stop. I’ll do anything. I can’t—’ her voice fractured, breaking under its own weight. ‘I can’t do this anymore. Bring her back, Ash. Please…’
But then her eyes locked with his, those golden irises heavy with sorrow, speaking a truth he could not soften.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, Mal looked down. Vera lay limp within her arms, her once-vivid purple eyes now fixed on the heavens above, wide and unblinking.
Gone.
A scream tore from Mal’s lungs, raw and primal, shaking the air like the breaking of a soul.
I cursed the eight kingdoms to keep the gods away.
To keep Hades away.
From her.
Tabitha Wysteria
The instant Vera crumpled, the battle ended as though the world itself had exhaled. Witches and warlocks froze where they stood before dissolving into coils of green smoke, vanishing like ghosts into the ether. The dead, those silent, loyal soldiers bound to Mal’s call, bowed deeply towards her in reverence before fading too, their forms drifting apart like mist on a morning breeze.
Mal sank back against the cold stone wall, her chest rising and falling in slow, uneven rhythm as her gaze fixed on the lifeless body sprawled a few feet away. Ash had already withdrawn the sword, its steel cleansed of blood, and now he sat quietly beside her. Neither spoke, their eyes drawn inexorably to the woman who had moments ago been their enemy, their problem, their pain.
Ash reached for her hand, roughened bybattle yet trembling faintly, and wrapped his own around it with deliberate tenderness. Mal closed her eyes, leaning her weary head against his shoulder, letting his familiar warmth still the tremors running through her soul.
