Chapter 45
MAE
Despite being swathed in angry flames, the entrance to Squall’s End remains standing. Thick smoke smothers my lungs, and I cover my mouth and nose with my shirt. Sweat beads along my forehead, and my eyes water at the blazing heat. The fire crackles, but the tree stands tall.
“Fuck,” Asmo mutters. He looks to Marik. “Help me.”
“Wh—” Marik starts, but Asmo turns and sand pours from his hands, quieting the flames. Marik joins him, the two of them working together to smother the fire. I watch them, chewing my lip the whole time, my thoughts racing.
Etta is in there. I just got back my sister. I can’t lose the other. I can’t lose my friends. Cally, Holly, Ivan.
The fire dies easily, the raging flames now sleeping embers. But smoke still pours from the entrance. Squall’s End is still burning.
“What is going on?” Marik demands. Blood no longer drips from his nose, but is now caked on his face, his neck, the collar of his shirt.
I want to yell at him that he doesn’t get to ask questions. “I don’t know,” I snap instead.
We were just here. We were just talking to Basil and Etta. Screaming comes from the inside of the tunnel city. I dart forward, but Asmo blocks me with his arm.
“We need to think through this before we dive in there,” he barks.
“What is there to think through? There are people in there!” I hiss.
“It’s a tree?” Elle asks, confusion evident in her tone.
I turn back to her. “This is the entrance to the home we’ve been staying in. It wasn’t…It’s not supposed to be on fire. Something is wrong,” I explain hurriedly. “We have to help them.” I turn to Marik. “Can I trust you to protect her?”
Elle’s eyes widen at the question. “What the fuck, Mae? No, you can’t.”
I place my hands on her shoulders. “It will all make sense when I get a chance to explain everything. You can trust him.”
The words make me sick.
She stares back at me, horror, betrayal, sorrow, all flashing through those amber eyes, the same eyes that look back at me in the mirror. “Wh—I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t. Marik, please tell her you’ll protect her so she knows you’re not lying.” Every word is hurried. We don’t have time for this. Every second that’s wasted is a second I could be saving my court. My friends.
He hesitates but meets her gaze. “I promise I will protect you. I won’t…I won’t betray you. Your wellbeing is all I care about.”
Truths.
I know Elle feels them, too. She stares back at me, anger still burning in her eyes.
“Elle,” I interrupt. “I know what he’s done. But for the sake of those people in there, I need you to trust me.” She grits her teeth, but nods. Thank the Mother. “Are you well enough to fight?”
Marik begins to answer for her, but she steps in front of him to cut him off. “Yes.”
We don’t have time for this. Elle is an adult. Marik is powerful and will watch out for her.
“What’s the plan?” I turn back to Asmo.
“I don’t know,” he admits as he rubs his jaw.
“I don’t know if this is a rescue mission or a battle.
Or both. If this fire was set intentionally, we need to be ready to fight.
If you see a discarded weapon, grab it. Be ready for anything.
” More screams cut through the air. “Ready?” Asmo stares at me.
Yes. No. I’m terrified. But I meet his eyes, loving the way they soften for me but harden for everyone else.
He gives me one final look, then turns toward the entryway to Squall’s End. The three of us follow him, through the smoke and into chaos.
Because chaos it is. And it threatens to bring me to my knees.
Drabars fly through the air, thick, black membranous wings rippling through the smoke, sharp talons slicing and felling hybrids as they make contact.
Undead animals and children sprint through the space, leaping on backs and sinking teeth into soft skin.
Witches fire black magic at groups of hybrids, who fire back as they defend their home.
The home they’ve spent decades building and hiding from everyone.
The home that we stumbled upon, that these hybrids offered to us, to keep us safe…
It’s all under attack. We brought this to them.
I’m so fucking tired of this.
Fire, wind, ice, water, earth…It all comes rushing to me.
A cambion sprints toward me. I strike it down with a flick of my wrist, its body engulfed in white flames. A drabar flies toward me. I fire another burst of white flames at it. It drops, body charred and smoking on the ground.
A witch spots us, black cape billowing behind her as she strides toward us.
Asmo chuckles. He raises his hands. Loose dirt rises, then rushes straight toward the witch in a concentrated funnel.
A squirrel hybrid leaps out of the way with a yelp.
The witch’s smug expression turns to panic.
She turns and runs, but Asmo shoves the funnel of dirt down her throat.
Another witch sprints for me. I throw out a wave of white flames.
She dodges them with a leap. I summon wind and force the flames upward.
She screeches as they find her and take purchase.
I funnel more flames, more heat, more more more.
Her ashes fall to the floor, mixing with the dirt.
The four of us clear the entryway within minutes.
A female hybrid runs to us, dirt and sweat marring flushed cheeks. A group of hybrids follow behind her, half of them in fighting leathers, the other half still in sleeping clothes.
“What happened?” Asmo demands.
The female shakes her head. “They took us by surprise. Somehow, they knew of the entry point. All of a sudden, witches and their demons from Hell started pouring in and attacking.”
Fuck. “Is Cora here?” I ask.
Her eyebrows scrunch together. “Who?”
“Witch in charge. White eyes,” I explain.
She looks to the group behind her. Everyone shakes their heads. “We’ve been busy fighting, so it’s possible she slipped in without any of us noticing. Bunch of them managed to get past us.”
This doesn’t sound good. The last time we fought Cora, it ended with Elle and me nearly dead. And she didn’t have any witches or the Cursed.
But this time, Cora thinks she’s trapping us in. If she is here, and we can surprise her…It might be the advantage we need.
“Leave. Now,” I command the group of hybrids. “Get out and live.”
The female plants her feet and the group shake their heads. “Respectfully, Your Highness, but no,” the female says. “This is our home. Let us fight.”
Asmo grunts in what I assume is approval.
“Fine. We stay as a group. Numbers work the best against them. We fight together.” I look to Marik and Elle. “You two, protect the rear.”
They give curt nods and head to the back. Both of them still wear their outfits from the ball, but Elle’s gown is ripped and tattered, fraying at the hem. Marik’s nose is still crooked and his cheek is still swollen from Asmo’s fist.
We move as one through the halls of Squall’s End. Fire, wind, ice, and blades all felling the dark creatures. We pass Lower House hybrids and Fae fighting in duos, but members of Houses Ursidae and Canis are nowhere to be found. And neither are the witches.
Where are they?
Slash, fire, freeze, slash, on repeat until we come to a stop outside of the healing center. The doors are shut, but it doesn’t stop the sounds of battle from within. Screams of anguish, of terror, of anger. Swords clashing and things combusting.
I run to the doors and yank the handle, but they don’t budge. I hurl fire at them, but it dies the moment it makes contact. “What the fuck?”
“There must be a protective barrier around it,” Asmo says as he inspects the doors.
Marik joins his brother and places a hand on the door. “Dark magic barrier. See the way it glints?” He glances to Asmo, who nods in confirmation.
Shit. This must be where Cora and the witches are. And the rest of the hybrids, who are now trapped.
“How do we break it? We have to get to them, Az,” I say, desperation lacing my tone.
He shakes his head, but Marik answers. “The only way to break it would be to destroy or damage the mark. It’s likely carved into the wood on the other side, but the barrier blocks it.”
My face falls. “So, you’re saying there’s no way to do that from this side?”
Marik shakes his head. “The only way to get in there would be to blast away a section of the wall.”
I gasp. “Or portal through it! Like we did for the dungeons.”
Asmo grins at my stroke of brilliance. “I can’t believe I forgot about that. You’re right.”
“I don’t know how to do exactly what they did, but I was able to—”
Screams and gasps of pain. But they don’t come from the other side of the door. They come from behind us.
Cora stands with a smirk on her face, surrounded by eight witches.
Each one holds a hybrid captive, razor-sharp nails pressed to their necks.
The hybrids stare at us, the whites in their eyes huge and gleaming with terror.
They claw at the hands on their throats, but it’s no use. The witches hold them with iron grips.
Behind Cora, Luca stares at me with a self-satisfied smirk.
“You,” I hiss. “What have you done?”
He doesn’t say a word. Coward. I’ll burn him alive for this.
Cora smiles, and it splits her face into something ancient and dreadful. “I’ve come for what’s mine.” Her white eyes pan from me, landing on Marik.
Motherfuck. As much as I would love to throw Marik back to Cora and kick her the fuck out of Squall’s End, I need him. We need him if we have a chance of beating her.
“You did all of this for a male? How embarrassing,” I say.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Well, he is quite talented with his tongue.” Her grin is malicious.
Ew. My lip curls in disgust. “Unfortunately, you can’t have him.”
Her smile slips, and her attention turns to Marik. “Do you let her boss you around now?”
He doesn’t respond. From my peripheral, I can tell the way he stands rigid as he faces her.
His hands are balled into fists. He looks nervous, uncomfortable, and I hope he hates himself right now.
I hope he’s going through every decision he made and regretting every single one.
I hope the weight of his regret smothers him, leaves him gasping for every breath just to survive.
“Come now, Marik. I know you can’t stand her.” Those bone-white eyes turn back to me. “You should have heard all of the awful things he said about you dear,” she tuts. “The way he mocked you and how you pined after his brother. Pathetic, I think was his most frequent adjective he used about you.”
It’s not so much her words that stoke fire, but more so the way she speaks to me like she feels sorry for me. I don’t bite.
Her head twitches back to Marik. “What’s your choice? Are you going to come back home? Or do these people need to die? Just like the wedding guests?”
“What are you talking about?” Marik asks. “They were released. You gave me your word.”
She snorts. “I lied. Surely you can’t think I’d be that dumb to let them go after they knew the truth?”
My blood turns to ice. Everyone. Dead. Innocent people, their only crime wanting to see me get married. Cally…If Asmo hadn’t gotten Cally out…
“Enough of this, Marik. Come.” Cora’s voice is harsh as she speaks to him. Like a dog.
“No.”
The ground shakes. Dirt falls from the ceiling as Cora faces Marik. Her black aura sputters out, then flares.
Fuck this. I summon twin daggers from a witch’s belt. I snatch them from the air and imbue them with my flames. Rage courses through me as I surge toward two witches and sink the hilts into their necks. They drop, and the two freed hybrids dash to the other side of the room.
Asmo fires blazing paths of black flames to two more witches, downing them, but not killing them.
They douse the flames with their cloaks and reach for their captives, but Marik finally jumps into the action and hurls fire at them.
They hiss and drop to the floor to dodge the blast, and the hybrids escape.
Cora’s nostrils flare as she watches Marik.
But she doesn’t watch for long. She hurls a burst of black magic at him and Elle.
Marik grabs Elle and they narrowly avoid the blast. It collides with the walls, oily black patches spreading and slowly corroding them.
I remember the way her magic burned my shield like acid.
“Help!” one of the hybrids pants. Asmo and I sprint for the remaining four witches and their hostages, but we’re too late. They drag their nails across their neck. Blood pours down their chests. William’s face flashes through my mind. I will not lose another.
With the hostages now on the ground, I fire white flames at the witches’ heads.
Bile rises as the scent of flesh catching fire now fills the air.
All four witches burn, while Cora’s black aura forms a protective shield around her.
I want to scream and rage at her and pour more fire into it, but I shift my attention to the four hybrids bleeding on the floor instead.
But I’m just one person, just two hands, and I can’t help them all at once.
I can’t I can’t I can’t and I swore no more, but they are now on a list that was already too long.
William and the executed and the wedding guests and now these four at my feet.
Tears well at the helplessness, the frustration, the entire fucking situation of this whole thing, and I let them fall uselessly, so fucking uselessly.
I wipe them away in a hurry and shake my head, shake the thoughts away to focus. But I don’t know what the fuck to do.
I place my hands on their necks, but that still leaves two more dying. Elle flies toward me and covers their wounds, blood seeping between her fingers.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say.
She looks back at me through tear-lined eyes and shakes her head.
Mother, please, I beg. But the hybrids beneath me still, as they lose their fights with death.
Behind me, Marik yells, “No!”
And then Asmo bellows, and my world tilts, and every nerve ending in my body lights in pain.
A dagger is embedded in Asmo’s chest. His face is white, lips pressed together tightly as he fists the handle and rips it from his chest. He clamps a hand over the wound, blood seeping between his fingers. He gives me a shaky nod.
A figure sprints down the hall, away from us. Luca. I smother the urge to chase him and rip his lungs from his body. I run to Asmo. “I’m fine,” he says, and the bond in my chest warms. I run a shaky hand through my hair and tell myself everything’s okay.
But then Elle screams.
I stand and turn, ready to fight Hell for the people I love.
My knees buckle.
Cora holds Elle by the throat.