No...
I thrash and writhe, trying to push back the intruding magic, the hand that is literallyrippingmy magic from the fabric of my very being.
I’m supposed to beascending, not...
Losing.
The sound of an energy blast pulls my attention as I continue to fight, and I see Norman, all tentacles and arms as he punches out one of the hooded faeries, his tentacles picking up and thrashing around another poor unfortunate soul as Wandasings, spelling another to his knees, his hands around his own throat, choking himself.
Even Delaney calls her magic, bright golden orbs of light that she keeps firing at the others, while Bane...
Bane literallylightsthe world around us on fire.
I watch as he throws fireballs down to the earth, to the ley lines beneath me.
Just like he had with the vines.
Heat rushes up through me, through the channel of magic and I scream.
It burns, but I know that’s what I need.
Him to cauterize the channel, to stop the magic from doing what it is meant to do.
Drain me.
One of the hooded figures holds up a palm, slamming it to his head as the melee behind him continues.
I watch my friends—and perhaps my frienemies—take hit after hit.
Norman yells at Bane, as Wanda screeches.
Bane wraps his hand around the man’s wrist, and I watch him combust into a pillar of flame before he completely disintegrates to ash.
And then he turns his glowing red gaze on me.
For a minute, I’m terrified.
Because in his gray-skinned, glowing eyed, incubus glory, amidst the moonlight.
He looks like one ofthem.The dark faeries.
But the moment he lays his hand on my neck, his fingers trailing over my face, I know he’s too late.
“Bane...” I cough, reaching my shaking hands through my invisible restraints, close enough to touch but not quite...
It hurts.
Everything hurts...
“Her Majesty is safe, she...” Norman calls from beside me, and I turn my head.
I see my mother, who looks half asleep in his tentacles, her rosy cheeks pale.
“She’s lost a lot of magic,” Delaney says as she hovers her hands over my mother.
“Magic...” I whisper, trying to find the words to tell him. To tell them, they were too late.
It’s gone, all of it.
