"Yeah, baby," I said. My voice came out thin. "She can’t hurt us anymore." Hopefully.
He nodded, then burrowed into my side. I could feel his heartbeat, frantic at first, then slowing.
Zaden cleared his throat. "That was… damn. I’ve never seen anything like it."
I reached over and squeezed his hand. "You were right. About her. About all of it."
He nodded, jaw working. "Let’s get to Beck Manor. If anyone can help, it’s Aurelia."
Bryce mumbled something. He was fading fast.
I pressed my lips to his brow. "Sleep, B. We’ve got you."
He relaxed for real then, the golden glow fading from his skin. His breathing steadied. The mate bond hummed softer, like a beacon set for home.
The rest of the drive blurred together. The rush of trees, the breakneck turns, the way I kept checking the back for any sign Vivienne was waking up. Nothing. Just the three of us, flying through the dark.
Zaden took the final turn into the Beck Manor drive at a speed that would have shredded the undercarriage of a normal truck. The headlights bounced off wet gravel and the ancient iron gates that guarded the lane, then we were in the parking circle, the mansion looming overhead in the dark. I could barely see the roof, but every window was lit. Zaden had been texting with one hand as we sped across town.
Bryce was a dead weight in my arms, his eyelids at half-mast but refusing to let go. The mate bond pulsed steady and strong, knitting him to Zaden and me, a lifeline gluing us together. Zaden threw the truck into park and jumped out, slamming the door before sprinting up the steps to the heavy oak doors. He didn’t bother with the bell, just hammered the wood with his fist, each blow echoing through the mountain night.
Inside, I saw the heat of movement. Shadows flickering past ornate glass, urgent and ungraceful. Ashton wrenched open the door, hair wild, bathrobe only barely covering his gym shorts.His chin lifted, reading the danger on Zaden’s face before a word was said.
"What the hell—" Ashton started.
"Need the ritual room, now," Zaden barked, not bothering with pleasantries.
Behind me, Vivienne thumped against the side of the truck bed, still wrapped in every blanket we owned. Bryce’s magic had faded to nothing, but even asleep, he clung to my shirt. I kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Almost done, baby. We’re safe now," but the comfort was mostly for me.
The manor’s front door slammed open all the way as Ashton moved aside. Zaden swept past, leading the way to the truck. Ashton followed, his own power rolling off him in invisible waves. I hoisted Bryce onto my hip, bracing for whatever came next.
Aurelia appeared at the top of the grand staircase, hands fisted in the railing, hair loose from the sleep. "What’s going on?"
Zaden didn’t slow. "Vivienne. She attacked my son."
Erin appeared on the landing, feet bare on the hardwood, a blanket twisted around her shoulders. By the time we got back to the truck, half the family was assembled at the front steps, each face more shocked than the last.
Ashton and Zaden gripped the edges of the tarp in the truck bed, then lifted Vivienne onto the porch. Even through layers of fabric, the shell shimmered, catching the hall sconces and shooting rainbows up the wall.
Aurelia’s eyes widened. "Is she… What did you do?"
"Bryce did it," I said, my voice shaking. "She—I don’t know, he just stopped her."
Erin, expression unreadable, stepped in and held the door. We muscled Vivienne’s shell into the house. It was awkward, heavy, and cold, the shape so wrong for a human body that my stomach turned over.
Inside, the foyer felt too small for what we’d dragged in. Aurelia motioned toward the east wing. "Ritual room. Quickest way."
We carried her, leaving a trail of melting frost across the hardwood.
We set Vivienne down on the table. She filled it up. Her mouth was frozen in a half-snarl, one hand still caught mid-gesture. The crystalline shell looked delicate but was hard as stone. Aurelia rapped it once with a knuckle, then pulled her hand back, shaking it.
Ashton closed the door, sealing us inside.
Zaden’s chest heaved. He looked at Aurelia. "Containment. Now."
Aurelia didn’t argue. She ripped open a drawer, pulled out a satin bag, and started pouring salt in a dense circle around the table. Next came a handful of crushed amethyst, ground to dust and glittering purple. She wordlessly handed Zaden a tiny silver blade. He didn’t hesitate. He sliced a shallow cut on his forearm, letting the blood spatter the salt in precise lines. It hissed and steamed, releasing a metallic tang into the air.
"Back," Aurelia ordered. The rest of us retreated, Bryce still limp in my arms.
