Her voice rose as she chanted faster, desperate.
Good.
She should be afraid.
Because I wasn’t stopping.
“I’m going to kill you,” I promised as I slammed my weapon into the barrier again.
It shattered.
The witch’s hand flew up too late—fartoo late. My blade sliced through her neck so cleanly it barely made a sound. Her head toppled off, hitting the ground with a sickeningthud.
For a heartbeat, all was still.
Then my weapon vanished—evaporating from my hand like a dream forgotten on waking.
The loss of power hit me like a house crashing down on my chest. Everything I’d been ignoring—the burns, the bites, the bone-deep fatigue—roared back with blinding intensity. My body screamed from every limb. My breathing staggered.
I didn’t even have time to think about what it meant.
Crack.
Pain exploded at the base of my skull. Something struck the back of my head so hard, stars burst behind my eyes. I dropped to my knees, the world tilting violently.
Darkness rushed in to claim me before I even hit the ground.
Chapter Twenty-One
Melinda Thymes
Get up, I ordered my limbs, even as they trembled beneath me.
It amazed me—truly amazed me—how Kitty had fought through that mob of monsters with her body already broken. Her shirt hung off one shoulder, revealing a white bra, and what remained of her pants clung to blistered skin and blood-soaked wounds. She looked like she’d already survived death once.
But when I felt her powers vanish—felt them—I knew. My greatest fear was no longer a future possibility. It had become a present reality.
Would her fate play out exactly as I saw in the vision?
Her eyes widened, filled with silent shock, right beforeHarveststruck her.
The hilt of his sword slammed into the back of her skull.
She crumpled.
The urgency I’d felt before surged again, stronger. I forced myself to my knees, wheezing as the charred remains of my clothes dragged against my skin. Every blister felt like it split open.
“We don’t have to take her hostage anymore,” Harvest said. His voice made my blood curdle.
Heknew.
“She’s mortal now. Feel that?”
His pale skin gleamed beneath the chaos of flame curling upward from his head, the fire crackling like it lived for violence. He gripped a fistful of her hair andyanked—a brutal, unnecessary gesture. My stomach churned at the sound of it, her weight dragging from his grasp.
His flames rose even higher, flickering wildly above him as if celebrating.
The way he held her…like atrophy.
