He sees me. Smiles.
“Didn’t think I’d leave it at that, did you?”
My fingers twitch at my side, the runes under my skin pulsing faintly, waiting.
“You’re trespassing,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, my body still. “You know what that means.”
His smile widens like I’ve said something funny.
“You really think this town can stop me?” He moves closer, just two steps, but it feels like the whole world tilts when he does. “You think spells and trees and backwater council rules will hold up in front of a real judge?”
“Stop right there.”
He doesn’t.
“I’ve already filed in Innsbrook,” he says. “I’ve got a hearing date. I’ve got records. You know what the court’s going to see? A woman who ran away to the woods, surrounded herself with monsters, and raised our daughter in a place that doesn’t even appear on federal maps.”
“She’s not yours to take.”
“She’s mine by blood.”
“You never treated her like she mattered,” I snap. “You belittled her. Controlled her. You didn’t love her. You owned her.”
“I gave her everything.”
“You made her afraid to laugh.”
That lands. I see it in his face. But it twists, fast, into something uglier. He barrels forward and for a moment I think he’s going to try and shove past me.
“Mari!” he shouts over my shoulder. “Come here!”
My body goes cold. I see her in the corner of my eye, still standing in the kitchen, little hands balled into fists.
I move fast.
The spell cracks through the air like a whip. I don’t think. I justact.The sigils burn across my palm and a wave of energy lurches out like a tide, thick and sharp and full of intent. It slams into Michael with a sound like stone cracking.
He stumbles back. But I don’t stop.
The spell curls higher, wrapping around my arm, heat and fury and old magic twisting tight like it’s been waiting for this moment. My eyes blur. My breath catches. I raise my hand to seal it. One word, and he won’t be able to step foot within ten miles of us again. One word, and it’s done.
But I hear Hardin before I see him.
“Krista.”
His voice is quiet. Heavy.
“Don’t.”
I don’t turn. My hand is still up. The light around my wrist pulses, ready.
“He came for her,” I whisper. “He was going to take her.”
“I know.”
“He was going to?—”
“Iknow.”
