#3
The fire in my chest surged, then hit the structure of the circle and folded inward instead of exploding outward. Pain lanced through me, but it was a different pain now. Not tearing. Not unraveling.
Binding.
Tears burned behind my eyes. I refused to let them fall. I was not going to cry on Eve’s hardwood floor like some tragic heroine.
The dead pressed at the edges of my awareness again, frustrated that the beacon was being muffled.
Eve’s chant shifted, the words sharper.
I felt it then. A thread.
A thin, ugly line of magic still attached to me, trailing off into the distance like a hook embedded in flesh. Lucinda’s work. Not just a severing, but a claim. A final cruelty.
Eve felt it too. Her eyes snapped open. “There,” she hissed. “That’s her.”
Faith’s jaw clenched. “Can you break it?”
Eve’s voice went cold. “Watch me.”
She lifted her hand, fingers splayed, and I felt her hellfire coil under her skin like a living thing. She did not unleash it wildly. She shaped it. A blade of heat, controlled and exact.
“Salima,” Eve said, voice steady. “This will hurt.”
I laughed once, ragged. “What a surprise.”
Eve’s gaze hardened. “Hold.”
The coven circle tightened. Faith’s grip on my hand became an anchor. Aurora’s presence pressed in, protective. Nishi’s power steadied like a drawn bowstring.
Eve brought the heat down on the thread.
The hook in my magic screamed.
So did I.
Pain ripped through my chest, through my spine, through every nerve like lightning. For a second I was sure Eve had miscalculated and set my soul on fire.
Then the thread snapped.
The recoil slammed into the circle, but this time it had somewhere to go. The structure held. The wards of the shop flared. The crystals pulsed bright, then steadied.
My chest still burned, but the fire shifted. It stopped trying to escape. It started to settle.
Breath rushed into my lungs like my body remembered it needed oxygen.
I lay there shaking, sweat slicking my skin, my hair stuck to my forehead.
Eve’s hand stayed on my sternum, cool and steady. Her voice softened. “That’s it. You’re coming back.”
Faith’s voice cracked, just slightly. “Stay.”
Aurora’s shoulders lowered a fraction, like she’d been carrying tension in her bones. “Good.”
Nishi’s gaze stayed sharp, but I saw the smallest loosening in her posture. Relief, the kind she didn’t advertise.
The circle continued to hum, but quieter now. Less emergency, more maintenance.
Eve’s chant slowed, then ended on a final word that felt like a lock clicking into place.
Silence settled over the shop.
Not empty silence. Safe silence.
I stared up at the ceiling, blinking slowly. My chest still ached, but it wasn’t consuming me. The fire had become embers, contained.
I swallowed and tasted salt, sweat, and something like victory.
Faith let out a shaky breath and squeezed my hand. “You still with us?”
I managed a faint smile. “Unfortunately.”
Faith huffed, and this time it sounded more like an actual laugh. “Good.”
Eve’s eyes were bright, but her voice was firm. “You’re stabilized for now. Not permanently. This is triage. We will reinforce it, and we will do it properly, but you are not dying tonight.”
My throat tightened anyway. “Thank you.”
Eve’s gaze sharpened. “Don’t thank me. Save it for when we deal with Lucinda.”
Aurora’s lip curled. “When. Not if.”
Nishi’s voice was quiet. “She crossed a line.”
Faith’s expression went hard again, the panic replaced by something colder. “She severed someone’s bond to make a point. That’s not politics. That’s cruelty.”
Eve rose slowly, still keeping one hand near me as if she didn’t trust the universe not to change its mind. “She wanted to prove she has power. She wanted to remind everyone that Ravenholde’s witches belong to her.”
Faith’s eyes flashed. “Not anymore.”
I took a careful breath. The shop’s air filled my lungs without pain. I could feel the coven circle still faintly around me, a new structure settling into place.
It was strange. Intimate. Terrifying.
And somehow, it felt more real than anything Lucinda had forced on me.
Eve looked down at me, her face a mix of anger and resolve. “You said you’d never belonged anywhere.”
I swallowed. “Yeah.”
Eve’s voice went quiet, but it carried weight. “You do now. Not because Lucinda released you. Because we chose you.”
My chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t fire. It was something else. Something I did not have a name for yet.
Faith squeezed my hand again, like punctuation. Aurora nodded once, solemn. Nishi’s gaze flicked to me, then away, but she did not contradict it.
I closed my eyes for a second, letting the truth settle.
Then I opened them, because I was not the kind of woman who stayed down for long.
“So,” I rasped. “What’s the plan for ruining Lucinda’s life?”
Eve’s smile was sharp and dangerous. “First, you rest. Then we make sure you can hold this bond without strain. Then we remind Lucinda that you do not get to rip people apart and walk away.”
Faith’s voice was grim. “And if she comes for you again?”
Eve’s gaze burned. “Then she comes for all of us.”