Chapter 51
Nicole
Madeline curls beneath his hand, the darkness in her eyes widening into black holes that seem ready to swallow her whole. I can’t see the magic, but I imagine it seeping from the surface of his hand, slipping under her skin like a virus. She trembles, her mouth open in a soundless scream.
A black shape forms in the center of her chest, a pulsing orb of energy visible even to me.
It consumes her from the inside, spreading through her veins with each ragged breath.
Her eyes roll back in their sockets. No sound escapes her throat, but her very essence emits a piercing shriek.
It’s not pain; it’s her soul he’s just torn free.
Gaetano holds it between his fingers, a translucent, flickering gray mass. For a moment, it pulses in his hand before darkening, as if scorched on the stake she once threatened me with. It becomes a shadow, indistinguishable from the others circling us.
Her body freezes. Drained of spirit, it unravels, strand by strand, as if bloody sinew is peeling away, melting into the soil like molten wax.
I focus on my Black Joker. The rune-covered fabric of his body tightens with every motion.
He moves toward the grave I dug him out of just minutes ago.
The dark soul struggles in his grip, but he doesn’t let go.
He stands over the grave, and although I can’t see inside from here, I know Madeline’s corpse now lies beneath.
One glance from Gaetano tells me everything.
It’s over. He won.
Gaetano turns slowly. His magic still hums in the air, but it’s no longer wild and raw. Instead, it crackles like a quiet fire in a hearth, providing warmth and calm.
His figure blurs. I blink, trying to clear the haze. In the next instant, he vanishes, and I’m alone in the center of the graveyard, the shadows floating around. I give myself a second, two—
Before panic really sets in, he reappears. The black of his eyes is filled with countless shining stars.
“Nicole,” he says, his voice shaky. “The curse is lifted. I just crossed the castle’s boundary with no soul to claim, no limit.”
I’m about to throw myself into his arms, but Madeline’s soul is still in his fist. He opens his hand, and it shoots out like a bird escaping a cage. The severed spirit convulses.
It quivers and then breaks off a sliver of itself, a tiny shard of darkness that darts skyward. It slams into the clouds, lightning-fast, trying to break through. And just when I’m about to think Madeline’s soul has gone mad, the sky swallows it whole, hiding it from view.
I search for the rest of her spirit, but I can no longer tell it apart from the hundreds swirling above.
Gaetano watches it all with a composed expression.
“What happened?” I ask.
He grimaces. “Madeline chose the fate of every former great witch who doesn’t know when to step aside. In other words, she managed to extract a piece of her soul, just so she could keep existing.”
Despite his calm tone, chills run down my spine. “You don’t seem worried?”
He shrugs. “I said existing, not living. There’s a difference. All she’ll be able to do in that state is to make deals with desperate creatures and leech off their life force. Maybe she’ll fashion herself a new body, a cover, but she’ll never be more than a splinter of her former power.”
His words cause a jolt in my stomach. “Gaetano, if she tries anything again…”
The harshness in his features disappears the moment his gaze locks onto mine. My heart races because this is Gaetano—my other half, who considers me the most precious thing he possesses.
“My dearest Baroness,” he says with a smile. “Madeline can’t hurt us. Most of her magic was destroyed in the duel, while mine has only expanded, thanks to my newfound source—our soulmate bond. If she so much as approaches us, I’ll send her back to Italy in the blink of an eye.”
He then turns his palms upward. Twin beams of power shoot out from them, ripping through the air. The wind roars in spirals, and the ground trembles like an approaching avalanche beneath him. The shadows retreat to the edge of the field.
One by one, the runes on his body flare with crimson light, transforming into blood. His eyes darken with an intensity that once might have frightened me, but now sends shivers of awe down my spine. The magic around him hums with the sound of ancient tongues. Maybe curses, maybe forgotten words.
“Show-off,” I mutter.
He pulls the magic back in and becomes just Gaetano again. A thin smile spreads across his lips. “Struggling to impress you. I wouldn’t want you to find someone else now that you’re truly free, Little Baroness.”
Warmth blooms in my chest.