Chapter Thirty #2
“Please.” The word breaks between us like glass.
Memories flood back—her screams as they killed the man she loved, my silence as they dragged her away.
My cowardice disguised as duty. “I understand now. What they took from you.” My hand presses against the hollow space in my chest where Bast should be, where our bond used to sing with love and trust and forever.
“I know what love feels like. What it means to lose it. I’m so sorry, Brianna.
I should have helped you escape back then.
Should have believed you instead of their lies. ”
“Bridget—”
“I failed you. Over and over.” Tears blur my vision, but I force myself to meet her gaze.
To face the truth of my betrayal. “But not this time.” I look at Emma, at her hand still pressed protectively over her stomach.
At the miracle growing inside her, protected by Meredith’s final gift.
“You both need to get out. That baby needs to be free of this place.”
“We can fight together,” Emma pleads. “Your magick—”
“Is broken. Like me.” I manage a bitter smile, tasting salt and copper. “But I can still buy you time. Emma, you need someone to show you how to get through the gateway. Brianna knows the way.”
A commotion rises from the practice floor. Someone’s spotted us. Shouts of alarm echo across marble, bouncing off stone walls that have witnessed centuries of similar betrayals.
“Go.” I shove them toward the courtyard doors, toward freedom. “Now!”
“I can’t—” Brianna sobs, her good eye swimming with tears.
“Yes, you can.” I grab her face, forcing her to meet my eyes.
My thumbs brush away tears, gentle against bruised skin.
This close, I can see every mark they’ve left on her.
Every scar and shadow. Every hurt I let happen in the name of trying to protect her.
“Be the brave one. Like you always were. Get Emma out. Keep her safe. Please.”
“I love you.” The words catch in her throat, raw with years of unspoken pain.
“I love you too.” The words come easily now, when it’s almost too late. All those wasted years, thinking love was weakness. “I’m so proud of you. For fighting them. For believing in more than this place allowed.” For being stronger than me. Braver than me.
More shouts. Running feet. The sound of practiced formations breaking apart.
“Go!”
Young witches run toward us, their practice uniforms a blur of gray and white.
Most look barely old enough to cast real spells—faces I recognize from training sessions, girls still learning the arts of control and death.
But there are so many of them. And behind them, I feel the approaching storm of Delta Team’s power.
“Go!” I shove Brianna and Emma toward the gateway. “Run!”
They sprint across the lawn. My sister’s limp barely slows her—the same determination that kept her alive through years of torture pushing her forward. Emma matches her pace without hesitation.
I step out and cast the first shield between the approaching witches and my escaping family.
The magic feels wrong without Bast’s strength flowing through our bond, like trying to breathe with broken ribs.
But I pour everything I have into it, weaving light and power into a barrier between death and freedom.
Training spells splash against my shield like summer rain. These young witches haven’t learned real combat yet—their attacks are textbook perfect but lack killing force. Just like I was, before the Mathairs shaped me into one of their best.
An alarm bell rings from the castle, its tone piercing through my concentration. The same bell that rang when Brianna tried to escape years ago.
My shield wavers as heavy footsteps thunder toward me. Delta Team emerges from the castle doors, their power crackling like storm clouds—my teachers, my tormentors, the women who helped forge me into a blade for the Mathairs to wield.
The first spell from one of them hits my shield like a sledgehammer. The impact drives me to my knees, bone meeting stone with bruising force. But I hold. Pour everything I have into the barrier. Think of Bast’s smile. His love. The future we almost had. The taste of freedom I barely got to know.
Another spell crashes into my shield. Cracks spiderweb across its surface like breaking ice. Sweat runs down my face as I fight to maintain it. Through the fracturing barrier, I see Brianna and Emma still running. Just a little longer. They’re almost to the stones.
My arms shake with effort. Blood runs from my nose, dripping onto marble that has absorbed so much pain over the centuries.
But through the corner of my eye, I see them reach the gateway circle.
See their feet touch the white stones that promise escape.
See the air begin to shimmer around them as ancient magick responds to their desperation.
The third spell tears through my shields like lightning through paper. Pain explodes across my body, stealing breath, stealing thought. But as consciousness fades, I smile.
Because I know they made it. I gave them the chance I should have given Brianna years ago. And that’s worth everything.
Through the darkness claiming me, I send one last thought toward the hollow space where Bast should be—I’m sorry. I love you.
Then there is only silence and cold darkness and so much overwhelming pain.