Chapter 31
Savla
The manor swallowed us. Wards screamed as we crossed the threshold into the room—dying, crackling and fracturing like bone under too much pressure.
The air inside was suffocating. Magick was being broken—the remnants of spells that were festering. There was potion vapor in the air that clung to my lungs like mildew.
But none of it mattered. All I could hear was the bond. It was struggling inside of me and her fear hit me like a physical blow. I growled low in my throat.
“She’s close.”
Enka, Krusk, and Dristan flanked me as the other clan members fanned through the hall. The coven swept behind them, magick swirling in glittering formation. My claws were already flared.
I didn’t even try to stop it—not now. Not when she was, my heart stuttered. She wasn’t in here. It’d been another glamor.
I heard her whimper. It was quiet—barely a breath. But I heard it and felt it.
I sprinted down the hall, and up the stairs, two at a time. Through another screen of glamor that tried to twist the hallway sideways.
The coven didn’t hesitate from where they were running up behind me, blasting through it and ripping it down.
“Hanna!” I roared, and my heart leaped when a faint, hoarse cry answered. I slammed into the east wing door hard enough to rip it from its hinges. It crashed into the opposite wall, but then... I saw her.
She was suspended in midair, wrapped in a cocoon of layered glamor that shimmered sickly. Her feet dangled inches above the ground, her hair hung limp and damp with sweat, and her skin was pale. Too pale. Her eyes were half-open but unfocused with her pupils blown wide.
She was shaking, fighting the spell but failing. Something inside of me tore wide open, and my vision went white around the edges.
She wasn’t unconscious, but she wasn’t fully awake either. Corwin stood in front of her, adjusting the cuffs of his designer jacket as if preparing for a business meeting while Hanna’s parents stood to the side.
They looked bored. Bored. Her mother checked her watch while her father picked lint from his sleeve.
I saw red. Actual red. My breath roared in my ears. Corwin perked up when he noticed the noise.
“Oh,” he said. “Finally.” Then he actually smiled. That curl of his lips was what sealed his fate.
“Well, well,” he drawled, stepping aside as if showing off Hanna’s limp body like a prize. “The orc scum finally arrives. Took you long enough. I was beginning to think your… pet frog would arrive first.”
My claws extended fully with an audible click and Enka cursed behind me.
“Sav—” he started, but I was already stepping forward.
Corwin didn’t stop talking because of course he didn’t.
“You know, this really is inconvenient,” he sighed. “Your little runaway witch caused more trouble than she’s worth. But my parents—and hers—want the merger finalized. And to finalize it, I need the assets.”
I blinked, thrown off by one word.
“Assets,” I hissed, which only made him smirk wider.
Her mother finally spoke, voice monotone. “My mother-in-law left the business to Hanna. Full control, full fortune and full patent rights.”
My stomach dropped, because Hanna didn’t know that. She hadn’t known this entire time.
Her father added, “Unfortunately, our daughter inherited a business mind as soft as her sentimentality. She ran away. It’s ridiculous and childish. So we’ve had to bring her home.”
Home. He actually used that word. The rage cracked the air around me like a lightning strike.
Corwin continued, “Once she signs the marriage contract and the merger goes through, we can salvage the brand. And if she refuses—well…” He shrugged and gestured to the glamor cocoon.
The spell pulsed, tightening around her ribs. She let out a small, broken sound. That was when something inside of me detonated.
Krusk whispered behind me, “Savla—”
Too late.
I moved fast. Faster than even the other orcs expected.
One second I was ten feet from Corwin. The next, I had him by the throat, slamming him into the wall so hard the drywall cratered. He gagged, clawing at my wrist, but I didn’t loosen my grip.
“You touched her,” I said, voice low enough to scrape the floor. His eyes bulged. “You stole her,” I snarled. “You drugged her. You wrapped her in this—” I gestured to the glamor cocoon with my free hand. “—like she’s a commodity. A thing.”
Corwin wheezed, trying to speak, so I squeezed harder. The mating rage surged—bright, pure and unstoppable. My claws dug into his skin while he struggled, choking.
Someone shouted my name, but it was distant and unimportant. I leaned in closer, voice dropping to a growl so deep it was barely human.
“You have no idea how lucky you are that she’s still alive,” I whispered. “Because if she wasn’t…” I tightened my grip. “…I would peel your soul from your body.”
He choked out a terrified squeak. I raised my other hand, claws glinting, ready to end him. I was completely ready to spill his blood for daring to breathe the same air as her.
But then—I heard her voice. It was small, weak and slurred.
“Savla…?”
I froze. Everything inside and outside of me froze. Corwin slid a fraction downward as my hand loosened.
“Hanna,” I breathed, turning.
Her head lolled toward me inside the glamor cocoon. I could see the coven working with their hands raised out of the corner of my eyes, purple magick glowing brightly.
Tears streaked my mate’s face, and her pupils struggled to focus, but she saw me. She saw me.
“Savla,” she whispered again, softer.
And just like that, the rage split apart. It wasn’t gone or defeated, it was just redirected.
All of it was aimed at breaking the spell—at reaching her. I had to touch her without hurting her and I couldn’t do that while in a full rage.
I dropped Corwin like the trash he was. He collapsed to the floor, wheezing, but I didn’t look at him again.
Tabitha and Zara rushed in first, hands glowing even brighter. Tasia and Floria followed, forming a half-circle around Hanna.
“This glamor is ancient,” Tabitha hissed. “Layered like poison. Five schools of magick at least.”
“Who the fuck did this?” Zara snarled.
Hanna’s mother lifted a bored brow. “It’s a standard restraint spell.”
“Bullshit,” Tasia snapped. “This is torture.”
I stood in front of Hanna, not touching her, but I was close enough she could see me. I was close enough to feel her magick reaching through the cracks.
“Savla,” she whispered. “Don’t go…”
“I’m never leaving you.”
She let out a trembling breath—soft and relieved. Tabitha lifted her hands.
“Witches—now.”
Magick surged in purple light, violet sparks and white flames licking the edges of the glamor. Hanna screamed and I nearly lunged forward, but Krusk caught my shoulder.
“She has to fight it, Sav. Hold.” he murmured in my ear, but I could barely hear him.
Her scream tore me open. But then, slowly, the cocoon cracked and shattered, exploding into shimmering ash that dissolved midair.
She dropped from where she’d been floating and I caught her before she hit the floor.
Her body collapsed against mine like she’d been held together only by that spell. Boneless and prone. She buried her face against my chest, sobbing softly, her fingers curling weakly into my shirt.
The bond…Gods.
It erupted. A burst of warmth and recognition so fierce I staggered to my knees. Her magick pressed into me, wrapping around us. Two halves slammed together like a heartbeat finally synced.
She gasped at the feeling—and clung harder. I held her like something sacred. One of my arms was under her knees while the other was around her shoulders. Her cheek was pressed against my throat where her breath was shaking out of her and her warm tears saturated my skin.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, voice breaking. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”
“Savla…” she cried softly. “You came.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll always come,” I said. “I will always come for you.”
Her fingers slid up to my collar, gripping hard. And the bond hummed—deep, electric and undeniable—like it had been waiting for this touch and this moment—this truth—all our lives.