Chapter Twenty-Seven
Selena
Something snapped inside me—not breaking, but unlocking. The castle’s blood called to mine, and instead of fighting it, I let it in. The invisible wall shuddered against my chest, then gave way like a dam bursting.
“No!” I lunged for the screaming infant.
Vex turned the blade on me and swiped in a vicious arc. I threw myself backward but the edge sliced through my shirt and kissed my skin, a line of fire burning across my ribs.
My fangs punched through my gums and a hiss ripped from my throat—low, feral. My body was trembling. My hands were shaking. I knew I couldn’t hurt him. Angelo Santi couldn’t hurt him. I didn’t even know if Costin could. What chance did I have? No chance. None.
But my feet wouldn’t move. Not backward. Not one single step.
Because it wasn’t just the baby.
I looked at Vex—those burning golden eyes, that beautiful, terrible face—and remembered that terrible thing that had crawled inside Rocco two years ago.
The same evil. The same violation. The same darkness that had stolen him and used his body like a puppet while he screamed behind his own eyes.
Never again.
I couldn’t fight Vex. Couldn’t wound him, couldn’t kill him, couldn’t even slow him down. But I could stand between him and that baby. I could stand between him and Rocco. I could make myself the obstacle he had to go through first.
And maybe—maybe—that would buy enough time for someone who could stop him.
I squared my shoulders, bared my fangs, and held my ground.
Behind me, the room erupted. Boots on stone. Shouting. The clash of steel and the crackle of magic as the others poured through the door. I didn’t turn to see who—I couldn’t take my eyes off Vex and the baby.
Then a voice cut through the chaos. Calm. Steady. Carrying a power that vibrated through the air like a struck bell.
“Stop, Vex.”
The demon went still. Not by choice—his body locked in place mid-strike, the blade frozen inches from my face. His golden eyes blazed with fury, but nothing moved. Not his hands. Not his chest. Not even the flames on the candles. The violet light hung motionless, the shadows fixed to the walls like paintings.
Everything had stopped.
Everything except me.
I stumbled back from the altar, gasping, my hand pressed against the burning line across my ribs. Blood seeped warm between my fingers.
Alice stood in the doorway, one hand raised, her palm aimed at Vex. Her blond hair flowed behind her. Her eyes were blazing—not with anger but with concentration, every ounce of her power focused on holding this single moment in place. Sweat beaded at her temple. Her outstretched hand trembled.
She was holding time itself by the throat. And from the strain on her face, she couldn’t hold it for long.
“Get the baby,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now.”
I snatched the baby off the altar, pulling it against my chest. The infant was so small—barely weighing anything—its tiny body shaking with sobs, its fists clutching at my shirt like it knew I was the only thing between it and that blade.
I ran back to Rocco. His eyes blazed with fury—at me, at everything. He grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him.
“Everyone out,” Alice commanded, her voice strained, her outstretched hand trembling. Whatever hold she had on Vex, it was slipping. I could see it—the sweat pouring down her temples, the color draining from her face, her body swaying like she might collapse.
Lucien blurred past me, straight for the altar. He snatched the glowing stone in one swift motion, the shard pulsing in his hand, throwing splinters of light across the dark walls.
No hesitation. No second-guessing. He’d seen the opening and he’d taken it.
Rocco grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the turret room, his grip so tight it bruised. I clutched the baby against my chest with my free arm, shielding its head as we plunged into the spiral staircase. Our footsteps echoed off the stone walls, frantic and overlapping—everyone pouring down the stairs behind us in a thundering cascade.
