Chapter 50 #2
“Remember the objective!” Asmo yells. “Go!” His hair is plastered to his forehead.
He shoves it back, water spraying with the motion.
He unstraps an obsidian dagger from the holster around his hips and fists it in his left hand, splaying his right hand.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment.” His voice promises death.
He strides toward her. My heart slams into my chest as they stare each other down, the battle raging around them.
She gives him a wicked grin.
He attacks.
His flames writhe as they reach for her, but she deflects them with a flick of her wrist. A bolt of lightning flies toward him. He ducks, but I throw up a shield to absorb the bolt and prevent it from striking anyone else. It shatters but does its job. Nobody was hurt, at least not by that bolt.
More lightning bolts land haphazardly, striking witches and hybrids without mercy. Asmo and Cora are locked in a whirlwind, a tornado of magic and fury as they attack and block and dodge. Asmo is a force to even be able to meet her blows. But he is just one person.
I know this battle won’t end unless I help send Cora back to whatever hellhole she crawled out of. I sprint toward them, sending a controlled burst of wildfire toward Cora. The flames struggle against the downpour, but I summon more fire as the rain attempts to extinguish them.
Cora eyes the incoming wall of fire, and another gust of her wind forces the flames toward Asmo. I yank the magic back, and the flames die. Okay then. Asmo slashes at her with his shadow sword, forcing her to jump away from each invisible blow. How she can sense it, I don’t know.
As she tries to dodge Asmo, I send another burst of wind and fire racing toward her. I grit my teeth and use my other hand to grow ivy. I’ve grown branches, but never ivy. It comes easier but feels wilder. I pull it back before it can close around her ankles, then urge my flames faster.
Asmo presses her, blow after blow after blow. All Cora can do is dodge. He slices a lock of her hair, and she hisses. He delivers another blow, and just as Cora tries to leap out of the way, I snap the ivy over her ankles and surge my fire. She trips and falls into it with a scream.
The flames lick and scorch her pale skin. She leaps into the air, away from the flames, and sends another bolt of lightning toward Asmo. He dodges, and I’m forced to cushion the blow before it can strike August this time.
A midnight black wolf sprints toward Cora’s back.
I protect him with a barrier and release it as he crashes into her, teeth sinking into her neck.
She whirls, but he doesn’t let go. She grips his thick coat with one hand.
I summon wind and force them apart before she can call her lightning.
The wound in her neck has already healed, but blood runs down her neck, her raven hair sticking to it.
A portal forms above Cora, and Amaris falls from the sky, two obsidian daggers gripped in her hands and aimed for Cora’s skull.
A drabar swoops from the air and knocks Amaris out of the way.
She lands with a hiss and fires the dagger at the drabar with an angry bellow.
The dagger finds its purchase and it crashes to the ground, landing on a hybrid and witch locked in battle.
I start toward them to save the hybrid, but another witch is there, a flash of red around her wrist. She drags the hybrid out and leaves the other witch trapped.
A bolt of ice flies past me, narrowly avoiding my shoulder, and I jerk away.
August joins the fight now, firing bolts of ice at Cora with rapid speed.
She throws a hand out, throwing his strikes off course, but one of them sinks into her gut.
She screams as she grips the massive icicle with two skeletal hands.
Before she can pull it from her stomach, Asmo pounces on her and hammers sand down her throat. She flings her hands out. They land on Asmo’s chest, and she shoves him away from her. Lightning cracks, but it doesn’t come from the sky.
My chest cleaves.
My heart stutters in my chest. And stops.
No, not my heart. The bond inside of me.
I scream as his body hits the floor, limp and lifeless.
I fall, knees colliding with the dirt with a force that sends my teeth clattering.
My vision shatters into something other—something like the very depths of the Icebound Sea and the darkest parts of the night sky—black and empty and desolate, and somehow, I know I’m alone. Agony roars through me.
I fist the dirt, and stagger to my feet.
I can’t look. I can’t look at the male on the ground. I can’t look at his chest to see if it rises. I know it won’t.
A chill spreads through me, some otherworldly feeling of magic and power and a rage that feels like it might set me on fire. One that might burn me and then consume the rest of the world.
Roots burst through the ground and snap around Cora’s feet. She flicks her wrist, and they fall away. Her lips curl into a cruel smile. “I told you, girl. You’re no match for me.”
I use everything I used the last time—wind, fire, earth. She dodges everything, as expected.
I form a ring of fire around her, blocking her in, watching as she smiles.
She and I both know she can get out of this.
But she doesn’t expect me to funnel into the fire with her.
I land directly behind her and reach for her face, for the bone-white eyes and the cruel smile.
A gust of wind tries to knock me off course, but I command it down.
A bolt of lightning tries to strike me, but I command it gone.
I am of the Mother. I was made by Her to defeat Cora.
I don’t need Marik, or Elle, or Asmo.
It was always Cora and me. It always has been. I don’t need anyone to help me destroy her. She raised me. She made me who I am.
And I will be the one who ends her.
I grip her face in my hands, fingers splayed over her cheeks and digging into the corners of her eyes. Ivy and roots shoot up her legs. They climb her torso, and she writhes, but I am fueled by a mix of sorrow and an ancient, all-consuming rage that threatens to tear me in half.
I grit my teeth and command more. The ivy transforms into ropes of fire, and Cora bellows as they mottle her skin. A bolt of lightning lands beside me, but it is an element, and I am the master of the elements.
I am the Queen of the Forest, of the trees and the flora and the fauna and the storms that ravage them. I was created by Mother Nature. I am born of all things that make this world, and therefore, I am the master of all that is born of this world.
The skin that knits Cora’s chest together is paper-thin. I descend into the tissue, caressing the muscle and brushing against the bones that protect her rotten heart. She reaches for me, and a vine encased in fire snaps her hand back down. I wrap my hand around her heart.
I smile. And pull.
Her heart is black, but it beats just like anyone else’s.
It turns to ash in my hands. I pull the magic from the circle of fire that pulses around me and step away from Cora, coming to face her.
The female who raised me stands before me, held up by branches and vines.
Her chest gapes, and her mouth is frozen in a scream.
I set her ablaze, watching as her flesh burns. The smoke from her body rises, curling in the wind and the rain. I turn away.
August, Barrett, and Amaris watch me carefully as I walk toward Asmo, who still lays limp on the ground. Someone reaches for me, but I shove them away and summon a shield as I walk toward my mate.
My chest has cracked in two, and I scream for the bond, but it doesn’t answer. I need to take him away from this fucking place and get him out of here. There has to be something, some way to save him.
When Elle was nearly dead from the cambions, the stag arrived just when I needed him. But the stag isn’t here now. Only me.
I didn’t need anyone else to kill Cora, and I don’t need anyone else to save my mate.
I squeeze my eye shut and imagine I’m running through the forest—twigs snapping, birds chirping, leaves rustling, and crisp air brushing against my skin.
I picture jumping over fallen legs and bounding over babbling creeks.
I think about walking through the throne room, watching me on the throne, as if I were the stag.
A shudder runs through me, and my senses sharpen. Every yell, every strike, every weapon drawn is louder, clearer.
I shifted.
But it’s useless if I can’t get Asmo on my back. I circle him, nudging him with my snout. My throat tightens at how lifeless he is. Heavy footsteps pound toward me, and I flinch.
Elle. “Let me help you.”
I lower myself and try not to focus on how she has to drag him. She drapes him over my back. He’s heavy, but I can carry him, something I would never have been able to do in my hybrid form.
I don’t waste any time. I take off. I don’t know where to go that’s safe, so I just run, trampling through the forest and down the mountain.
I pass barren trees, their trunks thick and ancient, and finally, I understand that this must be what regret truly feels like—the dead, crushing weight of my mate on my back.
Please, I beg to no one, anyone. Please. Please. Please.
The forest is still silent, not a single animal to be seen or heard—just me, praying to whoever deigns to listen.
Then, I hear it. The rushing sound of the river.
It cuts through the mountain, running beneath the castle. A perfect place to hide. I trudge along the riverbank, the gray water looking cold as ice. The sunlight fades as I carry Asmo deeper.
When the light has nearly disappeared, I lay him on the bank of the river and shift back to my hybrid form. Asmo lays horrifyingly still. My hands shake as I cup his face, willing him to smirk, to frown. Anything, please, I beg again.
But his face looks like it’s carved from marble. Pale, cold, still marble.
“Asmo,” I whisper. He doesn’t stir. “Asmo!” I shove him, I beat on his chest, I shake him. But he doesn’t move.
I refuse to accept this. This cannot be what the Mother intended. This cannot be the cost for ridding the world of Cora. I have given too much. I have lived this fucking life, and I have played their fucking games and I refuse to believe that anyone would ask this much of me.
I scream and cry and beg for the Mother to help me, but She is silent.
And so is Asmo.
“Hello, Mae,” a voice whispers, so light it could’ve been the wind. A jolt bolts through me and hope blooms in my chest. I whip my head up and stare at Asmo’s lips, but they remain frozen and blue.
My blood turns to ice. I turn, shifting my body to cover Asmo’s.
A dark figure stands on the riverbank, eerily still.
I wipe my tear-stained eyes and squint. The figure steps forward.
Thera. If the Mother’s eyes are like the ocean, Thera’s are like the night sky. Black pits with glistening stars, a whirling galaxy for an iris.
“What do you want?” I hiss. “What else do you want?”
She frowns, then speaks. Her voice is like the swing of a blade before it finds its mark, swift and light and filled with the promise of all that is terrible.
“Your tears can no longer save him, Child of the Mother. He is too far gone.” She pauses, filling the cave with the sound of the river as it rushes past. My chest rises and falls, but mine is the only one. “But I can.”
“Who are you?” I whisper.
Her eyes crinkle, and galaxies shift. “I am Thera. I am the Sister. I am death. But in death, there is rebirth. And I am your mate’s only option.”
“What is the cost?”
She quirks her head. The movement is too quick to be natural. “You will owe me a debt. To be called upon at my convenience.”
Any sane person would throw this offer into the river left untouched.
But I know what Asmo would do. I will suffer through whatever needs to be done to have my mate back.
I will damn myself if that is what it takes to see his chest rise again.
If it means one more kiss, one more “princess,” one more moment staring into his eyes.
I will do anything.
“Deal.”
She smiles, and the galaxies shift to black holes. With a flick of her finger, the palm of my hand slices open. I hiss and cradle it against my chest. Bright, hot blood spills. She dashes to me and yanks my hand to her, staring at the crimson now pooling in my palm.
She lifts it to her mouth, and drinks.
It is done, her ancient, cold, horrifying voice echoes inside my head. Horror crawls like tiny spiders along every inch down my spine. I just made a deal with the Goddess of the Underworld.
As suddenly as she appeared, she vanishes.
And Asmo’s chest moves.