Chapter 75
Chapter seventy-five
Alistair
Through time and space, he had sealed the crack in her skull. Her broken ribs were easier to heal, but she had lost a lot of blood. He was surprised she could still stand, but at least she wouldn’t be in so much pain when they landed. Alistair traveled them back to his bedchamber within the manor.
As soon as they materialized, she pushed out of his arms. Two perfect, sizzling handprints somehow burned through his armor into his chest.
“How dare you!” she screamed at him. “You took me from her! From them!”
A knot formed in his stomach. Her eyes, once a vibrant mix of emerald and sage, had been replaced by an abyss of black. Dark as coal. A thick, swirling mist the color of night seeped from her feet, engulfing the floor in its eerie shroud. It seeped over his ankles, burning his legs.
Sera sank to her knees and sobbed into her hands. “You took me from her,” she cried.
Alistair knelt in front of her. He bit his cheek and ignored the pain of her magic running over him.
“He was going to kill you, Sera. I couldn’t let him,” he said as softly as he could, daring to push the stray curls away from her face.
His fingers burned from her skin, but he didn’t stop.
She was barely breathing between sobs. He put his arms around her, and she fell into him.
It was never Snik.
When Alistair arrived in the tunnel, he’d fallen to his knees in agony, his magic sucked from him.
He’d tried to travel before it was gone, but it was no use.
Beside him Sera’s pack had been strewed all over the cave.
He’d found the summoning stone, noticing the hairline crack, but no Sera.
Following the sound of a fight, he’d watched as a foul beast slashed through demons.
Close to a hundred lay dead at his feet.
He didn’t know how, but he knew that beast was Vasso, something he’d thought was possible only in horror stories.
In all his years as the Mesar, he’d never come across the beast form of a demon lord.
But then… but then… Seraphina had unleashed her true power. Such lethal accuracy. In that moment, she had looked like a goddess of death.
Al had almost fallen to his knees for her. But then that demon had her throat.
There had been no magic in his veins. There wasn’t a chance he could have fought him with just a sword. But fuck, he had wanted to.
He’d followed the demons as they dragged Sera’s and Vasso’s bodies from the room, keeping a fair distance between them to give him time to assess. By the time he found the throne room, the trap was set.
The closer he got to her, the more magic he could feel seep into his veins. When she stumbled toward Nora, he watched Supay pull a sword from thin air. Then he ran.
By the grace of Shadow herself, the rest of his magic surged back, and he traveled to her.
He was sure his legs were covered in boils. There were welts on his cheek from her, but he stayed silent and stroked her hair. “Dominick needs you,” he whispered. “He’s not well, and Sera, I need you to pull back your magic for me.”
She rasped, “Oh, Al, I’m so sorry.” In a moment, the mist was gone, and she looked at him, frightened. “You’re not going to tell, are you?”
“We have much bigger issues at the moment. We’ll get to Nora, I promise, but I need you to help Dominick.”
Sera sniffled and wiped her face and nose with her hands. “Okay,” she said, her voice rawer than it had been inside the throne room.
He grabbed her hand and led her to the bathing chamber. “You’re caked with blood, Minnow,” he said softly. He ran a bath and left the room, giving her privacy.
She had demon blood. There was no denying it. Demon blood and fucking demon magic.
He was teaching her.
The thought echoed through him, accompanied by a cold sweat. She had only just revealed her power, but Vasso had trained her. Al almost laughed at the fact that he wasn’t the only one who had kept secrets.
Sera cracked the door, wearing one of his Legion tunics. His stomach tightened at the sight of her. She looked like a dream, one he had envisioned for weeks, and now, knowing what she really was, one he understood would never come true.
Shaking his head, he led her to the door and knocked. Dom didn’t respond. He’d kill the healer if she hadn’t checked in on him like he’d asked. He wasn’t fit to be alone.
“Let me try.” Sera cracked the door. “Dom?” she said. The figure on the bed didn’t move at the sound of her voice. Sera crossed the room, climbed into bed, and held Dominick to her chest. The warlock’s shoulders shook.
At least he was alive.
Closing the door, Al left the two to heal each other.
He needed to inform Thorne of the imminent transfer of power and how that could affect magic. But walking through the halls, he couldn’t get the image of her black, flaming hands and mist from his mind.
She shared fucking power with the future king of Gehenna.
Alistair found Thorne investigating the exit near the training area where he’d watched Sera sneak out on more than one occasion.
“This leads above ground?” Thorne asked in her pragmatic way.
“Sera can open it. I’ve seen her do it.” He wouldn’t tell Thorne yet how.
“You found her, then?”
He nodded.
“Good. Tomorrow, we can begin planning.” Thorne turned, facing back toward the main chambers.
“Wait, Thorne.” He turned to follow her. “While helping Sera, I obtained information indicating that a power transfer will soon occur in the demon realm.”
Thorne pursed her lips but didn’t look at him. “The master oracle told us that a few months ago. Do you know who it is?”
He swallowed. “The owner of this keep.”
She stopped short and whirled on him. “You mean to tell me we are stationed in the king of Gehenna’s personal manor?”
“He’s an ally,” Al said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. All he wanted to do was sleep, but Thorne had taken a double shift while he was gone. “Plus, we have something he wants.”
“What is that?” Thorne asked.
“Seraphina.”
“What would a demon king want with a low-level witch?”
“More than you know,” Alistair answered.