Chapter 29
Savla
The drive south felt too slow. Even though Krusk broke every traffic law I was aware of, and at least four I was certain he invented on the spot, it didn’t feel like enough.
Every mile, the bond twisted harder. It was pulling now—thickening and choking me. Glamor still muffled her, but the direction sharpened the closer we got. It was like a compass needle jammed toward one place.
The Greyleaf Estate.
My jaw clenched so hard my fangs ached. Enka had called, and he was on the phone with us, his voice echoing around the interior of the SUV. He was relaying the attempts that the coven were making to break the spells as they drove toward us as well, following our GPS.
“It’s old magick,” he muttered, barely discernable over the chanting in the background. “Tabitha said it’s before their time. Layered so thick it’s like someone lacquered the whole damn estate in lies.”
“That sounds right,” I growled.
Krusk’s fingers tightened on the wheel. “You’ve said that name before.”
“Greyleaf,” I bit out. “Hanna’s parents.”
A heavy silence ensued.
Krusk finally muttered, “Then I suppose we’re not knocking.”
“We’re not,” I responded, my voice as tight as the ache in my chest. But my heart hammered at a speed that made my pulse throb under my skin.
This rage surging through me—hot, focused, relentless—felt too close and too familiar. My father’s voice whispered in the back of my skull, a memory that I hated.
You don’t choose the bond, son. It chooses you. And when it chooses wrong… it destroys you.
I shook my head sharply. Not now. Not him.
I’m not like him.
Krusk leaned closer in his seat, tone softer. “This isn’t him, Sav. This isn’t madness.”
“How do you know?” I rasped.
“Because your eyes aren’t empty,” he said. “You’re scared. He wasn’t.”
Enka grunted in agreement over the phone. “You’re fighting for someone. He was dying for someone. That’s a pretty huge difference.”
I swallowed hard. Their words were so steadying and grounding. I didn’t deserve them, but I needed them.
The Greyleaf estate rose like a carcass on a hill. A sprawling stone manor, three stories high, monstrous and proud in the way decaying palaces were proud. Dead vines strangled the wrought-iron fencing. The glass in the windows reflected no light, not even the moon. The garden—
Gods. The garden.
The closer we drove, the more I understood that Hanna had been the only light holding this place together. It wasn’t dying. It was rotting.
The flowers that should have been lush and blooming were wilted, shriveled and dripping with a blackened sap that smelled faintly of acid and bitterness. The trees were sick, branches twisted like they were reaching for help they knew would never come.
Magick hung in the air—not bright, wild and alive like hers. This was sick. Off. Spoiled.
“Corruption,” Krusk whispered. “Dark alchemy, like the warlocks from Hellplane. That’s probably why the coven is having such a hard time breaking it. That’s… bad, Sav.”
My pulse roared.
“She grew up here,” I said—voice a broken rasp.
Krusk and Enka’s silence was answer enough. They knew what that meant. My female had been manipulated by these corrupt bastards who called themselves her parents.
The bond spasmed hard in my chest. If I hadn’t been sure before, I was now.
She’s inside.
Krusk killed the engine, but we didn’t move yet. I couldn’t even breathe.
Her magick flickered, faint and crushed under layers of spellwork. But it was here—nearby and suffering. I swung the door open before Krusk had a chance to speak, or we could even cobble a plan together.
“Sav!” Krusk barked. “Hold—”
I didn’t bother to let him finish that sentence.
I was already moving fast across the dead grass, boots sinking into soft rot that slurped like a hungry mouth.
The air around me shimmered with heat, even though I was certain it was just my rage.
My muscles tensed as if preparing to tear down the entire estate brick by brick, but halfway to the front steps, something hit me.
It wasn’t magick. It was emotion. Raw, explosive and uncontrollable.
Protect. Save. Mine.
The mating instinct crashed through my chest like a second heartbeat—one that swallowed my breath and replaced it with fire. My vision tunneled, and the world narrowed to one point.
Her.
It didn’t feel like the madness I’d expected. Instead, it felt like purpose—like the truth. But the intensity of it scalded me, terrifying me. Not because it would destroy me, but because it would destroy anyone between me and her.
Krusk caught up, breathing hard. His hand landed on my shoulder.
“Sav. Look at me,” he whispered, harshly.
I didn’t. I couldn’t. My eyes stayed locked on the front doors.
“Savla,” Krusk snapped. “You are not him. You hear me? You are not him.”
A breath ripped through me, shaky and ragged. My voice barely worked.
“If he hurt her,” I whispered, “I won’t stop.”
“You’ll save her,” Krusk corrected. “That’s the difference. Wait for Enka. He’s right behind us with the coven and then the rest of the clan is right behind them.
Like a sign from the heavens, Enka drove in next, the females in the back of the SUV barely visible as they held hands, chanting quietly. We could barely hear them.
My youngest brother jumped out of the vehicle, rushing up toward us. Enka planted himself on my other side.
Krusk was still looking at me. “We go in together. Not like beasts. Like brothers,” he insisted.
I swallowed hard. The bond pulsed, faint but urging.
She’s scared.
She needed me, and I was finally going to be there for her. Fear twisted into a sharper rage.
I nodded once. “Together.”
We approached the front door, and I narrowed my eyes on how blurry it was. It was covered in glamor—layers of it—but the bond had already seen through it once, so it was easier this time. The moment I lifted my hand, the spells writhed like snakes, hissing as they recoiled.
Good.
It should be afraid. They should be, too.
I planted my palm flat against the wood. Old enchantments crackled violently, burning hot enough to blister skin.
But the chanting behind me got louder, and the bond with my mate didn’t break. It devoured.
My palm flared white-hot as the witches followed the path of my mating bond and drank down the glamor like dry earth taking rain. Wood splintered and the wards that were holding it together screamed. The entire estate shuddered under the touch of their magick and my determination.
Krusk drew in a low whistle. “Subtle.”
“Not trying to be,” I gritted out.
Enka smirked. “Yeah, we noticed.”
The door buckled inward with a deafening crack. The stench inside hit us immediately.
Chemicals. Rot. Fear.
Hanna’s magic flickered like a dying candle and that was it. The last restraint in me snapped. I stepped over the threshold—and felt something old and ancient inside me settle into place, like a sword sliding into the hand it had always been meant for.
A warrior’s ferocity. A mate’s devotion. A male’s terror of losing what he loved.
Not madness—love.
It was pure, absolute and unyielding. I’d been such an idiot to deny it for so long, but now that I knew what it was—allowed myself to feel it, there was no stopping me.
I turned back to my brothers just long enough to say one thing. “Stay with me.”
Then I charged into the estate—silent, swift, and ready to tear the world apart until I reached her.