Blood dripped from Patrice’s hand, onto Ash’s forehead, where it hissed and sizzled, turning into a bright, golden steam that rose to meet the demonic energy.
Ash’s body jerked. Her eyes flew open again, glowing with a terrifying, sickly yellow light. She screamed, but this time, the sound didn't come from her throat. It came from the air around her.
“It’s resisting,” Chaos shouted, his face contorting as he fought to keep his grip on his brothers.
“Don’t let go.” Discord’s muscles bulged, his demonic form flickering through his human skin—claws, horns, and those fierce green eyes. “We need more blood. Isabel’s hatred was too strong.”
Patrice squeezed her fist, and more blood splashed onto Ash.
“More,” Chaos commanded. “You will not let my soulmate die.”
Patrice whimpered and sliced the blade across her other palm, deeper this time. Blood gushed from the wound, spurting with each rapid beat of her heart. She swayed on her feet, stumbling before widening her stance and holding both hands above Ash.
“I renounce it!” she shouted, her blood pouring onto my sister and turning to golden smoke. “I reject Isabel’s spite and that of her descendants. I shoulder the burden of my ancestors and agree to pay the price to save this family. In the name of the goddess, I break this curse…now and forevermore.”
The room exploded in a kaleidoscope of light. I shielded my eyes, but I couldn't look away. I saw the curse—a physical thing, a black, oily shadow—lifting off Ash’s skin. It fought, coiling like a serpent, trying to dive back into her chest, but the golden mist of Patrice’s blood acted like a net, tangling it, pulling it upward.
The demons channeled everything they had. The floorboards groaned, and the remaining glass in the library—the few intact picture frames on the walls—shattered into dust.
With one final, eardrum-bursting roar from Discord, they ripped the black shadow free. It let out a sound like a dying gale, slamming into the ceiling and evaporating into nothingness.
The silence that followed was so deafening it made my ears pop.
“Ash.” Mom’s voice cut through the room, and she raced toward my sister.
Chaos beat her to it, dropping to the floor and pulling Ash into his arms. Mom grabbed her hand as he rocked her, tears rolling down both their faces, and Discord wrapped his arms around me, his exhaustion palpable.
“Ash? Ash, please,” Chaos whispered, his voice cracking.
Ember clutched Mayhem’s arm, and Patrice dropped to her knees, clasping her bloody hands over her chest. We all held our collective breaths as Ash’s chest rose and then fell…rose and fell.
Then, she let out a long, ragged cough. Her eyes flicked open, hazel…beautiful, clear, hazel. She looked up at her demon, her brows knitting together in that classic Ash look of confusion and irritation.
“Chaos?” she croaked.
“I’m here,” he said, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face.
I tightened my arms around Discord’s waist, my heart threatening to explode with love and relief. “Is that it? We’ve broken the curse?”
“Indeed, we have, my love.” Discord kissed my temple.
“And you went to Hell and back to make it happen,” Ember said.
Ash blinked, looking around at the charred library, the foam-covered bookshelves, and the small army of people staring at her. “Did I…” She gasped, her fingers covering her lips. “Did I burn down the library?”
I let out a sob-laugh. “Just a few shelves, Ash. Nothing we can’t replace.”
“Good,” she whispered. “Because I really…really want to go to bed.” Her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted into a natural, peaceful sleep.
Chaos gathered her into his arms, holding her with a tenderness that made my heart ache, and I pulled back to look at my demon. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, his power spent, but he inhaled deeply and straightened, a sense of pride glinting in his mossy green eyes.
We hadn’t just broken a curse. We’d broken the cycle. No more witches had to die because of Isabel’s hatred.
“We did it,” I whispered.
“We make a good team,” he said.
Miles sank onto the floor next to Patrice and spread a salve onto her palms. Shade handed him a roll of gauze, and as Miles wrapped her hands, she looked at me, a strange mix of relief and sorrow on her face. She’d saved Ash, but the weight of what her family had done—and what she had hidden—still hung heavy in the air. This wasn't a "happily ever after" kind of ending. Not yet.
