Chapter 27
Ryder
“How is she doing?” I ask Amaya when I find her in the Center, cutting down her invisible opponents.
She stops and sheathes her weapon behind her back in an impressively smooth motion. “She’s heartbroken,” she answers, looking down at a point on the mat. “Did you know about the spell that separates his mind?”
“I only just found out myself when I went to see him after Reign’s visit.” She remains quiet like she’s trying to figure out if she believes me or not. “I would’ve told Reign if I had known. I promised her no more secrets and I don’t intend on breaking it.”
She finally looks up at me. “If he doesn’t make it, she’s going to need all of us. That includes you, too.” Her eyes narrow on me in warning. “Don’t screw it up this time.”
“You have permission to kill me if I do.” The offer seems to earn me a small smile that I’ll gladly take.
“When is it happening?”
“He’s already had the tea with the elixir in it. Myra will release the gas about half an hour from now.”
“Come to me first if he doesn’t make it so that I can be there when you tell her.”
“I will,” I promise, and I wonder what it must be like to have a friend like Amaya.
She’s fiercely protective and loyal in a way that most people aren’t.
With all of the heartache Reign has been put through, I have no doubt that Amaya was sent to her from The Mother to help her through it all.
If I believed in soul ties, the two of them are what I would imagine the connection to be like.
Undeniable and transcending all definitions of love.
Myra is already waiting when I arrive. Creating a deadly gas is the highest level of magic a wind witch can manifest. We only have five of them here in the Shadow Lands who can do it and Myra is by far the most experienced.
“Everything is set,” she reports. “Just waiting on your order.”
Once I give her the go-ahead, there’s no turning back. I’ve run through it a hundred times over in my head and this is the only way. Unfortunately, knowing that doesn’t make the call any easier to make.
“Do it,” I command before I talk myself out of it altogether.
The door has already been magically sealed so that the gas can’t escape. I won’t know it’s all cleared until she comes back out, but I told her to give it five minutes before pulling the gas back.
Five minutes feels like twenty as I wait for her to open the door. Henry’s anxious energy is rubbing off on me each time he paces back and forth in front of me.
“It’s going to work,” he whispers more to himself than to me. “You’ve done the calculations right. Everything is going to be fine.”
When Myra swings the door open, my heart stops beating.
“It’s done. He’s out.”
I do my best to keep my composure as I take in the sight of his body still chained to the slab. Henry checks his pulse for good measure and nods to me.
“Please let this work,” I say out loud before giving Henry the order to continue with the serum.
After he injects the full syringe into Damien’s veins, the two of us stand like statues waiting for any sign of life to return. As the seconds tick past, images of Reign’s heartbroken face begin to flash in my mind.
How am I going to tell her he’s dead, and he’s not coming back? That I couldn’t save him?
“I don’t understand,” Henry says as he continues his anxious pacing. “It should’ve worked. It should’ve brought him—”
A gasp explodes from Damien as he shoots up, almost pulling the chains from the stone. I’m too stunned to move, but Henry already has his hands all over Damien who looks like he just saw a ghost.
“Let me check your pulse,” Henry insists, pressing two fingers against his neck.
“What just happened?” Damien asks breathlessly.
“I—I can’t believe it actually worked.” It’s all I can seem to spit out and Damien looks even more confused by my response.
“You can’t believe what worked? What did you do?” Damien is yelling now, demanding answers.
“We sort of brought you back from the dead,” Henry attempts to answer for me.
“You what?” Damien pulls at the shackles binding him.
“I’ll explain everything to you but stop fighting the chains. I’ll uncuff you if you promise to keep calm.”
He doesn’t seem too thrilled with my underlying threat, but he agrees and reaches his wrists out. Once the cuffs fall, he begins demanding answers again, so I explain everything to him in complete detail. By the end, he’s leaned up against the wall like he needs the support to keep him upright.
“Holy shit. You actually did it!”
All three of our heads whirl around to see Slader coming around the stone wall wearing an expression of shock that matches ours only moments ago.
“How will we know if it broke the curse?” Damien asks, kicking himself away from the wall.
“Give me the arm you shook my father’s hand with.”
He does as I ask, and I roll up his sleeve so that I can see his forearm.
“This is going to hurt a bit,” I caution as I pull the dagger from my waist.
As I carve a deep line into his arm, I can tell he’s doing everything he can to not show he’s in pain.
It’s something I would do myself if I wasn’t already so used to that type of torture.
I take the dagger to my arm next, matching the cut down my own forearm.
While his cut seeps dark red blood, mine drips black.
“Once my blood is infused with yours, it’ll glow white or red. If it’s white, it means the curse is gone. If it’s red… well, you know.”
“Do it,” Damien insists, nodding towards the gash in his arm. “I have to know.”
When our arms lock with one another, a searing pain burns where our blood connects.
Both of our grips tighten as the intensity of the pain grows with each second the two of us are linked.
A strong burst of power sends us both stumbling backwards and when Damien lifts his arm to show us, none of us can find the words to say.