I focused all my energy and slowly pried them open. The skull of a hellhound covered my face, but I could still make out the rafters of the church ceiling. Metal shackles bit into the flesh of my wrists and ankles as I tried to rise. A prickling sensation started at my fingertips and turned into searing pain at the center of my palm from the spikes nailing me to the altar.
Drip. Drip. Drip.The church was silent except for the sound of my blood dripping from my wounds to the floor.
“Hello, Grey,” Kenna mused. The sound of her footsteps told me she was approaching. She stopped and stood over me. The cold tip of a blade pressed against my neck, tracing along the collar.
“Kenna.” My voice came out hoarse. “You don’t have to do this.” Each word burned my scratchy throat. Devin was dead; she no longer needed to do his bidding, but love made people loyal and stupid.
“Imagine what we could do together.” The knife clanked against the frontal lobe of the hellhound skull, trailing down to the orbital cavity, coming dangerously close to impaling my eye. “Your power and mine.”
My body stiffened at the familiar words. I expected to see haunting blue eyes, but dark brown ones stared back.
No, no, no.
This wasn’t happening. She was gone. But was she? The empty grave told a different story. “Veda.” The name burned in my throat.
The familiar feline smile spread across Kenna’s full lips, and my stomach sank. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the top of the skull and whispered, “Let’s have a little fun.”
A stabbing pain exploded from my chest where the knife tore through muscles, ligaments, and tendons. A fatal blow to any human, but my body started to heal immediately.
“How is this possible?” I gasped.
“Devin Whitethorn was a selfish man who only cared about power. He willingly offered up his daughter for a chance to have more.”
A look of pity flashed in her eyes. Not for me but for Kenna, because if Veda understood one thing, it was betrayal.
She yanked the knife from my chest, and that was when I noticed it. The ruined flesh on her wrist. Carved into Kenna’s skin was a possession symbol. The bastard had mutilated his own daughter in his quest for power, not caring that he damned his entire legacy. But the fucker got what he deserved—a brutal death at the hands of the one he betrayed.
The blade bit into my neck and torturously filleted its way down to my rib cage. I couldn’t stop shaking as Veda continued to carve something into my chest, not bothering to stop even as she nicked bone.
She raised the blood-slick knife and ran her tongue along the blade. A scarlet droplet cascaded down her chin.
“Do you want to know why I put this collar around your neck?”
I couldn’t suppress the shiver as her featherlight touch trailed over it. My breathing quickened as I waited.
“Because I knew they’d kill me. I saw it in their eyes the moment they decided to turn on me. In order for me to survive, to one day be brought back, I needed some part of my magic to survive.” She tilted the skull up and brought her blood stained lips to mine. “And I knew you’d survive because monsters like you always find a way.”
A broken laugh shook my chest. Pain cleaved the air from my lungs. I once thought what we had was love, but I was wrong. So wrong. I hadn’t realized it until I experienced the real thing.
Fingers dug into the wound on my chest, and her fingers tightened around my heart. “You’d be better off without this.”
Blood filled my lungs and fell from my mouth.
Death beckoned me forward, and I plunged down deep to the place within myself. The place that had gotten me through the years of torment. I wouldn’t go to death without a fight. Not without seeing my little witch one last time.
CHAPTER 39
LYRA
By the time we got to the church, the spirits were no longer whispering. They were shrieking at the top of their lungs. I thought the whispers had been unbearable, but this was a whole new level of torture. I gripped my head, rubbing my temples, desperate to alleviate any of the building pressure. It felt like my head was about to explode.
Cal and Eli pounded their fists against the church door. It didn’t budge. The door had been spelled shut.
I scrunched my left eye shut, and the pressure became somewhat manageable, allowing me to kind of function. I attempted to clean the dirt-covered window with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, trying to see inside.
I might’ve screamed, but I couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in my ears when I saw Grey’s bloody frame on the altar. Even with the beast’s skull covering his face, I knew it was him.
Someone’s hand rested on my shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. A reminder I wasn’t alone. I turned to face the others, swaying slightly.
