Hux vanishes before our eyes, shifting into a darkness that settles into my soul.
“Fuck!” I scream.
Malachi disappears next, and I watch Maines fade into the darkness around him.
Oak yells and refuses to let his magic escape, for fear that he will hit Maines, but he powers forward.
Tears well in my eyes as I watch a dark trail of shadows move through the forest. Oak releases his magic, and a blast of white light envelops us, knocking us all backward. My ears ring from the explosion, but I ignore the pain, propping myself on my elbow to watch the shadows retreat deeper into the forest, further away with each passing second. I stand and race forward, disregarding the pain radiating through my body.
“Briar,” Silas screams after me.
No.
No.
This is my fault.
I run, shifting in small bouts to chase the shadows with Oak at my heels, but they fade faster than we can move. I watch in horror as Malachi drags Maines directly to a place I never wished to revisit, a place that haunts me—the place I died.
Yet, it’s a place I’m willing to enter, even if it means dying again to save her.
My hazel eyes fade away and are replaced with unholy black as anger, rage, and desperation pile on top of each other, sending me spiraling into a blind madness.
Their shadows vanish, and my fierce heart splinters into a million pieces as Malachi drags Maines directly into the place where the shadows were formed and darkness will be destroyed.
The closest place to the darkest realm that exists.
Where I will confront my demons and enemies directly, and…Bring. Her. Back.
From Death’s Opening.
Chapter 50
Bonus POV
Maines Madden
After the Forgotten Archives
I’m awake, yet I don’t open my eyes.
A blinding pain forces my eyes shut, and I don’t dare move out of fear and the burning sensation that travels through my legs and lower back. The sheets are soft, but nothing matters except the pain. I hear shuffling around me, and the scent of herbs fills my nose. I know that healers are here. The rhythmic motion of their actions and the scents immediately clue me in that they are working.
On me.
I remember the Archives, the beast that haunts the space, and the overpowering smell of smoke. So much smoke. I squeeze my eyes tighter, perhaps hoping that this time I’ll wake up andthis won’t be real. I won’t be injured, and my legs won’t feel as if they are melting from my body.
Around me, I feel the warmth of the sun filling the room, yet no matter how many blankets lie upon me, I still feel cold to my very soul, as if something stains me. I move my hand over the soft sheets, still sluggish from sleep and the medicine, and I pause. Another hand rests gently on the bed. My fingers trace the large, calloused hand that lies on the sheets, and I immediately know who it belongs to.
Oak.
I hear the rustling of the sheets, as if someone is lifting their head off the mattress. I keep my eyes shut, not quite ready to see the pain I know will rest upon his handsome face. As quickly as I find his hand, Oak’s fingers slowly trace mine. His skin is warm and almost burns my icy flesh. His hand travels up my arm, and he slowly pets my broken body, but doesn’t speak. I can only imagine the chaos swirling in his brilliant mind.
Even with my eyes closed, I feel as though I can perceive a bright light radiating from Oak. However, no matter how much light spills into the room around me, I can’t shake the feeling of something dark creeping into my mind.
It started slowly, like a dull itch I could never scratch, but every day, it seems to be growing like vines up a decaying tree. Darkness is normal to us as Shadow Wielders, but this is different. Darker and more ancient than anything I’ve ever experienced.
I need to inform the others, but doing so would only lead to more concern, and I’m not trying to frighten them further than I already have.
