For Kaden, I would sully my soul, end countless more, just to save him.
I don’t speak as I concentrate on the hearts. It barely takes a flicker of awareness and as I inhale, they mimic. My power winds around their hearts, constricting it like a serpent to its prey. They are under my control and my fingers snap.
The hearts explode, one by one, bubbles popping along the wind. They drop and the magic rises too high, gleeful as my nose and eyes drip red. They never had a chance.
It’s a lot to feel all at once, the storm of magic coursing over my skin, the coolness of Kaden’s soul trying to temper it. But my magic is fierce and hungry. It strikes, crushing the hearts of those who would hurt me, blood dripping out their orifices like a beautiful, morbid waterfall of sin.
It doesn’t discriminate, my magic, it wants to kill them all. Gladly, I let it.
They want to hurt my family—I won’t allow it.
It starts to spiral, pulling too much. Even Kaden’s essence cannot handle it. A few soldiers linger as I drop to one knee, visionblurring, the beating drums in my ears so loud I grimace against the noise.
Fee lowers into my face, her eyes hard, mouth twisted into a scowl. “Pull it back, Godsdammit, blood summoner. Turn it off!”
Struggling, I force the magic back to my pit, where Kaden showed me it comes from. Where it rests. It doesn’t want to go, it wants more, but I have to regain the balance. Too much power, and I’ll die. And I can’t die, because then Kaden will.
Thankfully, Kaden’s soul lurches on to my magic, curling it back together, forcing it deep down where it belongs. It suffocates it, soothes it as only he can.
Exhaling, my lungs burn from exertion. Blinking, I touch my cheeks, smearing the blood there.
Swaying forward, my knees slip, and Fee grabs my shoulders.
“Good,” she compliments, relieved. “You did good.”
Glancing over her shoulders, I see our guards making quick work of those I didn’t get. Bodies are piled thickly on the throne room floor and my heart cracks. It’s too much needless death and I mourn for those who died because they chose the wrong side.
Lifting me into his hands, Reid slings my arm over my shoulder. “We need to move. More guards will come and there’s no telling where Zelos is.”
The castle walls shake, a roar booming throughout the palace. It sounds as if a demon has come to collect a wayward soul.
All the guards pause, listening, waiting. Looking up at the swinging chandelier, Fee bites her lip. “I think Kaden already found Zelos.”
Shoving her, Reid carts me forward. “Move!” he demands, dragging me along. “We need the book and we have to be quick about it. I for one will not wait to die while Kaden fights our father.” We limp to the library, my body weak and tired. Sending a silent prayer toDey, I thank them for Kaden’s claim—his soul is the only thing keeping my magic from killing everyone. From killing me.
A few more guards appear but Zeke and Fee make us a path.Along the way, the other half of our party meets up with us, Fenrir and Mal with their Woodland army on their heels. They’re soaked in blood and when they take one look at me, their eyes widen in worry.
I know the sight I make—covered in blood, fingers almost black. But Reid doesn’t allow them a chance to fear me, pivoting me down another hall. “Library,” he calls back, just as we arrive at the grand doors.
It takes only moments to get into the library, pitching us to the back where the book lays. He pushes me into Mal’s arms, as the warrior steadies me with a clinical touch. I’m sure nobody wants to draw Kaden’s wrath if I’m harm.
Reid tilts his head, searching the case.
“Can you crack it?” Fee asks, crossing her arms. Impatience seeps out in her words.
Her brother glares lightly. “Can I crack it, she asks,” he mocks. With one quick hand, the glass lock breaks and the lid lifts on old, creaking hinges.
He grabs the book and it burns him instantly, melting flesh sizzling. The wretched scent lifts into the air as my stomach twists. The book drops to the hard tile with a solid plop. “The fuck?” Shaking out his hands, I watch the mutated flesh begin to repair.
“Protection.” Fenrir studies the leather-bound book, brows furrowed. “It can’t be touched. Not unless the protection spell is broken.”
I yank on Mal’s cloak, grip too weak to do much. “Wrap it.”
He places me gently against the wall as Fee and he throw the cloak on the book. A fire starts immediately, igniting from nowhere.Even objects can’t touch the book.
“Okay, what do we do?” Reid asks, face perplexed.
“Uncle thought you could break the curse,” Fee reminds me, glaring at the book. “Try to pick it up.”
