Chapter 18
Marigold’s hands pressed desperately to Gavin’s wound, his blood hot and slick between her fingers. His golden fur was matted crimson, his body shuddering against her touch. Something inside her snapped, the last brittle lock on the cage that had held her soul for so long.
Heat surged through her chest, spilling down her arms into her palms. She gasped as light flared out of her body, blinding white, filling every crack of the world around her. In that flash of eternity, sound vanished. The screams, the gunfire, the roar of lions. It was all gone.
There was only Gavin. And her.
The Light poured into him, washing through the wound, burning away the last of the silver poison that had threatened to kill him. His flesh knit together beneath her hands, skin and muscle mending as if time itself had reversed.
When the Light faded, Gavin’s eyes opened. He was whole. Alive. He shifted back into his human form, pulling her into his arms with a strength that left her trembling.
She knew then, without question, and without fear. She loved him. Even without words, she felt the love shining back at her from him. The bond between them hummed, fierce and undeniable.
Then, world rushed back in. Gunfire, roars, shouts, and chaos reigned all around them. But Marigold was no longer the cowering girl she had been.
She rose to her feet, Gavin right behind her, supporting her with his love. The battlefield seemed to part around her, bullets and spells deflecting harmlessly as natural shields shimmered all around her. Nothing touched her. Nothing could get through her power.
“Aunt Petunia,” Her voice rang out, louder than she thought possible, clear above the fray. “Stop this!”
Petty’s head snapped up, eyes flashing with fury. Ash, pale and clutching his bloody arm, bared his teeth. Fern and Narcissus tightened their grip on their own formidable power.
Then Marigold saw it. The flicker of fear in their eyes.
But her aunt sneered, lifting the bloodstained athame. “You dare to challenge me? You’re nothing but a runaway girl playing with fire!”
Spells flew at her in a volley. Flames, shadows, and the razor-edged curses her family was infamous for flew all around her. They hit her shields and bounced, dissipating into harmless sparks.
Marigold stood firm, her talisman glowing against her chest, her own magic rising brighter, and purer, fed by something deeper than vengeance.
She realized it was fed by love. The love between herself and Gavin shone like a beacon to her inner eye and gave her more strength than the others would ever know. In that moment, she almost pitied them.
“One last chance,” she said, her voice trembling with both sorrow and resolve. “Stop now. Walk away from this path or face the consequences.”
They didn’t back down. She’d known they wouldn’t. Their souls were lost forever to the evil that would consume them. Their magic struck at her again, and this time, Marigold answered.
The power welled out of her once more in a wave of blinding white Light, rushing across the battlefield like dawn breaking. It swept over the triumvirate and their allies, touching every heart.
The most corrupt shrieked as the Light found them, their bodies disintegrating into ash that scattered on the wind. Others dropped their weapons, weeping, broken open by the purity of her magic, their darkness burned away to reveal something raw and human beneath.
Petunia screamed defiance, raising her blade, but the Light caught her too. For an instant, Marigold saw her aunt’s face twisted with rage, and then nothing but smoke and ash remained.
Silence followed, broken only by the distant cries of the wounded and the ragged sobs of those left behind.
Marigold swayed, her body drained, but Gavin was there, steadying her with his strong arms. His gaze burned into hers, awe and fierce pride mingling with something softer, something only for her.
She had done it. She was free. And she finally knew exactly who she was.
The world was eerily still. Smoke drifted across the manicured lawns of Petunia’s estate.
Where once there had been shouting, gunfire, and the crack of spells, there was now only silence broken by scattered sobbing.
A handful of mercenaries and the occasional Rollins lay on the ground, weeping like children, stripped of the darkness that had once driven them.
Others were just gone. Nothing left but drifting ash on the wind.
Surprisingly, Marigold noted that Sebastian and Letitia had been spared, though they were openly crying, their faces studies of regret.
If she’d had to guess, she would have thought the Light would consume them for their evil hearts, but there must still be some good in them if they had been spared.
Something to ponder. Later. Much, much later.
For now, she needed to regroup. Marigold swayed, clutching at Gavin’s arm as her knees threatened to buckle. He held her tight, steady as a rock despite the blood streaked in his golden hair and across his bare chest.
Then Sam’s voice rang out. “Clear!”
She turned just in time to see him striding from the west side of the mansion, a small figure clutched in his arms. It had to be Katrina.
Her blonde hair was tangled, her little face streaked with dirt, but she was alive.
Sam carried her with the grim tenderness of an Alpha reclaiming one of his own.
Emmy had driven in too, running forward as soon as she saw her daughter, her face wet with tears. Sam placed the girl in her mother’s arms, and for a moment, the Kinkaids simply stood, watching as Emmy clutched her child to her chest, sobbing in relief.
Then Sam’s gaze shifted and landed on Marigold. “What the hell just happened here?”
Dozens of eyes followed his. Kinkaids in lion form padded closer to the vehicles, golden fur streaked with blood, their massive sides heaving from battle.
One by one, they shifted back to human form, exhaustion and wariness etched in their faces.
Naked, they moved toward the SUVs, pulling clothing from duffel bags stashed in the back of the large vehicles.
Gavin guided her toward his SUV, keeping one arm around her waist. He opened the back, pulling out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with the brisk efficiency of a soldier. “Cover me for a second, Goldie,” he murmured, winking at her and stepping behind the open door.
She blinked at him, still reeling, feeling the hum of power in her veins, but she turned just enough to give him privacy.
Not that the other lions weren’t doing the same nearby, some laughing shakily, others grimly silent as they yanked on spare clothes.
The surreal normalcy of it all almost made her laugh.
Sam came closer, his expression a blend of wariness and curiosity. “Gavin?” he prompted.
From behind the SUV door, Gavin’s voice emerged, calm but edged with awe.
“She saved us all. Petunia’s silver blade should’ve finished me, but Marigold…
” He stepped into view again, now clothed, his eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing holding him upright.
“Marigold healed me. Then she…unleashed something. Light. Power. I’ve never seen anything like it. ”
Sam’s gaze flicked to her, sharp as a blade. “You did this?”
Marigold swallowed, her voice small but steady. “I didn’t mean to. I just…couldn’t let Gavin die.” Her hand trembled as she reached for Gavin’s. He took it instantly, grounding her as she added, “I think maybe I’m a healer. Maybe that’s what my magic is. What it’s always been.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed, weighing her words, then he exhaled slowly, his gaze sweeping over the estate. The ash, the broken survivors, the silence where evil had once reigned was a lot to take in. His voice dropped low, almost reverent.
“Goddess help us. We’ve got a Lightbringer on our side.”
“A what?” Marigold asked, not certain of what she’d just heard.
“A Lightbringer. It’s one of the old terms Claudia’s been teaching me,” Sam said, waving Claudia over to explain.
Claudia stepped closer, her hair wind-tossed, her eyes still bright from the use of her own magic. She carried herself with the calm certainty of someone who knew exactly what she was seeing.
“A Lightbringer,” she said gently, meeting Marigold’s wide gaze.
“It’s one of the rarest kinds of mage. Old stories say they’re chosen by the Goddess Herself, born to channel Her Light into the world.
A Lightbringer heals, yes, but more than that, they cleanse.
They burn away corruption, dissolve darkness, and restore balance where the scales have tipped too far toward the dark side. ”
Marigold shook her head faintly, the weight of Claudia’s words pressing down on her. “That…that can’t be me. I’ve never been anything but a prisoner. My family said I was weak. Broken.”
Claudia’s eyes softened, but her voice was firm.
“They said that because they were afraid of what you might become if you ever touched your true power. And today, you did. You called down Light itself, Marigold. You healed a wound that should’ve killed Gavin.
You ended four of the top-ranked Rollins mages with a single wave of your will. That isn’t weakness. That’s destiny.”
The word struck like a bell. Destiny.
Gavin’s hand tightened around hers, his warmth steady at her side. She glanced at him, seeing the fierce pride in his gaze, the awe that still lingered there. For once, she didn’t flinch from it.
“But I don’t know how to control it,” Marigold whispered. “I didn’t really choose what happened.”
“No Lightbringer ever does, the first time,” Claudia reassured her. “The Goddess answers through you when the need is greatest. Control will come with guidance, and with trust in yourself, and in those who stand with you.”
Sam crossed his arms, his voice rumbling low with both respect and grim practicality. “Then we’d better make damn sure she gets both. Because if the Rollinses—or worse, the Venifucus—realize what she is, they’ll stop at nothing to either imprison or destroy her.”
Marigold’s heart thudded painfully. She would never go back to being a prisoner. She’d rather die first. A shiver of pure fear went down her spine, but Gavin leaned close, his breath brushing her ear.
“They’ll never get to you, Goldie. Not while I’m alive,” he whispered, stilling her nerves. They were so in tune already, he had somehow known what she was thinking.
Her throat tightened, tears burning her eyes, but she managed a trembling nod. Goddess, how she loved him.
The silence around the estate was uncanny, broken only by the soft weeping of the few Rollinses who had survived her Light. They crouched or knelt in the gravel, eyes wide and unfocused, stripped of the cruelty that had once animated them.
“What do we do with them?” one of Sam’s lieutenants asked, glancing uneasily at the broken figures. “They’re still Rollinses.”
Marigold’s voice surprised even herself, faint but steady. “Call Robert and Rowan.”
Dozens of gazes swung to her. She swallowed, pushing on. “I don’t think they’re like the others. They didn’t use me, not once. If anyone in my family has the strength to guide these survivors, it’s them. They’ll know what to do.”
Claudia studied her for a long beat, then inclined her head.
“She’s right. Robert and Rowan have already shown their hearts are in the right place, even if they had to pretend otherwise to survive within their family structure.
If the Goddess touched them the way She touched Marigold, they might be the key to a new future for what’s left of the Rollins dynasty. ”
Sam’s jaw worked as he considered it. Finally, he gave a curt nod. “Let’s reach out to them. If they’re willing, we’ll see what they can do. I’d like you to take the lead on this, Claudia, if you’re willing.”
Claudia nodded her agreement, and Marigold sighed in relief, but the world tilted a moment later.
The strength that had carried her through the battle fled all at once.
Her knees buckled, but Gavin was there. He caught her in his arms, gently holding her like she was the most precious thing he’d ever handled.
“Goldie,” he murmured, voice rough with concern. He didn’t ask. He just lifted her against his chest as if she weighed nothing.
“You might as well get her out of here,” Sam said. “We’ll clean up whatever we can, and I’ll call Robert and his sister right now. Maybe they can do the rest.”
Gavin gave a sharp nod, already moving. He carried Marigold to his SUV, sliding her carefully into the passenger seat before tucking a blanket from the back around her shoulders. He leaned close, brushing his lips over her temple.
“Rest, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
She managed a weak smile for him. “I know.”
He shut her door, circled to the driver’s side, and shared a last word with his Alpha before sliding behind the wheel. Then they were moving, the estate falling away behind them, the roads winding toward safety.
Marigold drifted in and out, lulled by the steady hum of the engine and the warmth of the blanket. When the vehicle slowed and turned into a quiet neighborhood, she blinked herself fully awake.
Rows of houses spread out around them, tidy lawns and warm lights glowing in the dusk. Families lived here. Safe families. Happy families. Her chest tightened at the sight.
The SUV turned down a side street, then eased into the driveway of a house set a little apart from the rest. More trees, more space between it and its neighbors. A sentinel’s post, she realized, instinctively.
“Where are we?” she asked, her voice husky from fatigue.
Gavin cut the engine and looked over at her, his expression softening. “My place,” he said simply. “Home.”