The curse was broken.The war was over.
And Willow, bloodied but unbowed, stood with her mates and her sisters, vengeance claimed, ready for whatever came next.
****
The scent of strongtea filled Ursula’s lounge, steam curling from mismatched mugs clutched in tired hands.Willow sat between Liam and Jacob on the old sofa, her head resting against Jacob’s shoulder.His arm was draped around her because he couldn’t let her go—not after what had just happened.Not after watching her bleed and stand tall, break a curse and kill the bastard who had hunted them for lifetimes.
But even with her pressed so close, fear gnawed at Jacob.The sun was rising fast.He could feel it in his bones, in the faint tug in his blood.Any second now, they might be ripped back into the void, trapped beneath her skin again.Every glance he shared with Liam carried the same edge of nerves—what if the curse wasn’t truly gone?What if Marcus’s death wasn’t enough?
Willow must have felt him tense, because she squeezed his hand and lifted her gaze.Her green eyes burned with determination.“He’s gone,” she whispered.“I felt it.He unraveled and he’s not coming back.”
Jacob wanted to believe her.Hell, he did believe her.But still...the sun crept higher.
Ursula perched on the arm of a chair, one leg tucked under her, her mug balanced carelessly in her hand.Her hair was a mess, her lip swollen, but there was fire in her grin.Saffie sat cross-legged on the rug, still wearing that sleek dress, though her heels had been abandoned somewhere between the basement and here.She twirled her mug idly, heterochromatic eyes gleaming like she knew a thousand secrets she wasn’t about to share.
“What we do know,” Saffie said finally, her voice carrying both exhaustion and awe, “is that Marcus is dead.And you, Willow Anderson, ended him.You claimed your mates and broke what he began.That was no small feat—you faced centuries of his cruelty and snapped it in a single breath.”
Willow shifted, her body brushing against Jacob and Liam at once.“I didn’t do it alone.You both were with me.You and Ursula, too.”
“True,” Ursula agreed, sipping her tea with exaggerated calm.“But you were the blade, sweetheart.We only held the whetstone.”
Liam snorted, though his grip on Willow’s hand tightened just like Jacob’s.“She’s more than the blade.She’s the whole damn weapon.”
That earned Willow a small smile, but Jacob could see the weight pressing on her shoulders.She tilted her head back against the couch, eyes closing briefly.“Then why does it feel like it’s not over?”
A hush fell.Even the tea didn’t steam as loud.Finally, Saffie sighed.“Because it isn’t.Marcus’s curse was layered, like rot seeping into stone.Killing him closed one door, but the corridors beneath still run deep.There are others tied to it—bound in ways even he might not have understood.”
Ursula’s voice was quiet, almost reverent.“Others who were locked in with us.Tethered.If we don’t find them, they’ll never be freed.”
Willow straightened, shock flashing across her face.“You mean there are more victims?”
“There are more lives caught in this snare,” Saffie said, her tone a mix of sorrow and steel.“Some of them...connected to us.Closely.Ursula and I have carried fragments of them all this time.I tried to counter the curse, to weave myself into it just enough to pull us forward through centuries.Do you have any idea what that cost me?To live lifetimes knowing who I had lost and still keep breathing?”
Ursula reached over and touched Saffie’s arm.“She did what none of us could have.But she’s right.It isn’t finished.There are layers still binding us—and someone else missing from this circle.”
“The fourth,” Jacob said, the words thick on his tongue.“You mentioned her before.”
Saffie nodded, her mismatched eyes glinting in the dim light.“Without the fourth, every spell we cast will hold, but only barely.We are three points of the compass.It takes four to anchor the circle.Without her, our strength is borrowed time.”
Willow’s jaw set, determination blazing.“Then we find her.Cast whatever net you need, pull every thread of magic you can.We’ll bring her home.”
Ursula and Saffie exchanged a glance that was equal parts hope and worry.“We’ll weave the search together,” Ursula said firmly.“The circle isn’t whole, but our threads can stretch farther in tandem.We’ll find her.”
Jacob’s throat tightened as he looked down at Willow.She felt small pressed between them, but strong too.Always strong.He wanted to tell her again how proud he was, how much he loved her.But the rising sun pressed at his back, reminding him of the curse.Liam’s eyes caught his over her head and in them Jacob saw the same dread: that they’d vanish again, torn away.
So, he held her tighter.Because if this was the last breath he got in her arms before the void yanked them back, he wanted it to count.
Willow must have sensed it.She reached up, touching both their faces with soft, trembling fingers.“You’re not going anywhere,” she said fiercely.“Not now.Not ever again.”
Her certainty cut through the fear like sunlight through fog.And for the first time since Marcus’s scream had ended, Jacob dared to believe it might be true.
The sun broke fully over the horizon, spilling light through the window.And still, they remained—three bodies pressed close, three souls bound together.Jacob let out a shaky laugh, relief crashing through him so hard it nearly stole his breath.
He stood, sweeping Willow into his arms with ease.“Well,” he said, voice rough but laced with affection, “looks like we survived dawn.What do you say, sweetheart?Bedtime.Preferably ours.Before Ursula starts judging us again.”
Willow laughed, the sound shaky but real and looped her arms around his neck.“You just want an excuse to carry me off like some caveman.”
“Damn right,” Jacob shot back, grinning at Liam as his brother rose to follow.“Because nothing—not curses, not demons, not even Marcus and his melodramatic speeches—is keeping us from our bed.”
