45. Chapter 45
45
Chapter 45
August
She had left me dead . . . or asleep. I didn’t know. But I felt everything I had experienced in all of those dreams. She had taken so much from me that my body had been too drained to do anything else. But I didn’t expect her to leave me—not like this.
Not when she didn’t have a home to go to anymore.
I’m not sure how long it had been, but her scent still lingered in the room—faint, like a whisper of jasmine and warmth, clinging to the edges of my senses. My limbs felt sluggish, a dull ache thrumming beneath my skin as if my body were still recovering from the magic she had stripped away. I felt hollow, slow, like I was moving through water, the absence of my power leaving me weaker than I had ever known.
My heart began to race as the sweetness of it twisted into something metallic and sharp. Her blood. My hands trembled, the weakness in my limbs making every movement feel unsteady. I fumbled to throw on my clothes, frustration flaring at how much effort it took, but the urgency in my chest only grew sharper, overriding the exhaustion weighing me down. Opening the door to the alley, the smell of her blood hit me like a punch. It was so strong that my already unsteady body faltered, my knees nearly buckling as I stumbled back, gripping the frame for support. The dizziness from my drained magic mixed with panic, twisting my stomach into knots.
What the fuck happened?
Sheer panic took over, my mind racing with possibilities I didn’t want to consider, and I bolted down the street, chasing the trail of blood that led me into the woods. With each step I took, I could feel myself growing stronger and faster once more.
The forest was eerily quiet, the snow underfoot crunching with each frantic step. Moonlight filtered through the twisted branches, casting sharp, uneven shadows that seemed to reach for me. The bitter cold bit at my skin, the air thick and heavy, as if the woods themselves were conspiring to slow me down.
I stopped when I saw her standing under the moonlight, her glowing green eyes locked onto mine. A strange stillness settled over the clearing.
Something was wrong.
Her posture was too controlled, her expression blank. She wasn’t scared. She wasn’t even tense. She was waiting.
My stomach twisted, but I forced myself forward. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharp with unease.
She didn’t answer.
The wind stirred the loose strands of her hair, but she didn’t react—didn’t blink, didn’t shift, didn’t move at all. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, and for the first time, I truly felt like prey.
I took another step forward, something dark curling in my gut. Why isn’t she moving?
Then, a voice came from the shadows behind her. “What are you doing out here alone?”
My father.
A cold dread slithered down my spine.
Bronwen didn’t react. She didn’t turn to him. Didn’t flinch.
Because she wasn’t surprised.
No—
“Winnie, no.”
I moved to stop her, but the moment I stepped past the shadows, I slammed into something invisible.
Fucking witches.
The air around me crackled with unseen power, locking me out of the circle. The realization hit me like a gut punch. She planned this.
I slammed my fists against the barrier. “Father, it’s a trap!”
He didn’t react. He couldn’t hear me.
A slow smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “Are you giving up so easily?”
Then he reached for her, his fingers curling around her throat.
She didn’t resist.
Because she wanted this.
As soon as he sunk his teeth into her, she grabbed the arm he had wrapped around her and brought him to his knees.
The guards who always accompanied my father emerged from the darkness, but the same invisible shield kept them from reaching him .
I glanced around looking for any sign of where the witches could be until I saw a glimmer of something reflecting off of what looked like nothing. I ripped a branch from the tree and threw it as hard as I could to where the glimmer once was.
A woman with long gray hair formed out of thin air and fell to her knees with the tree branch sticking out of her chest. As the circle broke, the witches’ cloaking spell vanished, their forms emerging from the shadows. Dozens stood in a perfect ring, their faces partially obscured by deep hoods, but the glow of their magic illuminated the frost-covered ground. Some held their hands aloft, fingers twitching as faint trails of light spiraled upward.
I turned back to Winnie and my father to see her raising her flaming hand, just as she did with me so long ago, except this time she was prepared for the guards.
As soon as the guards tried to reach my father, fire caught them, and they fell to the ground screaming, their cries piercing the cold night air. The flames consumed them quickly, turning their bodies to ash even as their screams faded. One guard managed to lunge toward a witch, claws bared, and took her down with a feral swipe before he too succumbed to the flames. Another darted through the chaos, striking at two witches with swift, deadly precision, their bodies crumpling to the ground before his own erupted in fire.
The clearing was a chaotic blur of glowing magic and burning ash, the acrid smell of scorched earth and flesh thick in the air. Amidst the carnage, I caught a glimpse of Adar tucked in the shadows, one hand on a vampire I hadn’t seen before to pull magic from, and the other pointing to his next victim.
I took a small step forward, a movement that made her twin look at me. His eyes widened when he saw me as if the pieces of a puzzle were finally coming together. I guess Winnie never told him, even after everything. He raised his finger to me, and I winced before realizing nothing happened. When I glanced back at Winnie, her eyes were still locked on me. She was using the magic she had pulled from my father to protect me—even as she betrayed me.
I ran to her, stopping only a few feet in front of her. Her eyes, the ones I had seen every time I closed mine, were devoid of any emotion. They were cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the memories I clung to. She was no longer the girl I had known. She was something sharper, harder—someone who had carved away every trace of weakness, burying her pain beneath cold resolve. And in that moment, the realization crashed over me like a tidal wave, leaving me breathless.
She had also planned everything that happened mere hours ago—every word, every glance, every touch. The warmth of her body pressed against mine, the intimacy I thought we shared—it had all been a lie. My chest tightened, a mix of anger and heartbreak coursing through me. I wanted to scream, to lash out, but the betrayal cut too deep, leaving me paralyzed.
She came to me, fucked me, took my magic, all to kill my father.
“Don’t do it.” I gritted my teeth. “You will regret it, Winnie.”
She kept her eyes on me as she brought her hand down, the flames erupting from her palm with a ferocity that seemed almost alive. My father’s screams ripped through the night, raw and guttural, before cutting off abruptly as the fire consumed him. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air, turning my stomach. For a moment, everything seemed to slow—the crackle of the flames, the wavering light that cast Winnie’s face in harsh shadows, the ash drifting upward like snow.
Her expression didn’t change. There was no triumph, no satisfaction, only a cold, calculated resolve. Her hand didn’t waver, even as his body turned to ash and crumbled into nothing.