CHAPTER 29 #2
The blade, still hovering before me, was pristine, its edge clean, untainted by the blood I was certain had spilled.
I looked down, expecting to see crimson streaks or torn flesh. Instead, my body was touched only by previous wounds and my own purging, nothing to explain the searing agony that had just torn through me.
His power healed me. The thought made my breathing ragged, imagining how many times he could do it, again and again.
Varian had healed me before, so it seemed the rune blocked only harm. Healing still found its way.
As the ringing in my ears faded, words filtered through.
“. . . is alive. Now release me, and if you try anything again, I won’t guarantee her life,” Varian said. He was still on the wall, but Reagan’s grip was no longer on his neck. “One move.”
Reagan’s eyes were wide, his body stiff. But he took a step back, and another, until he was on the other side of the room, between Finnegan and Gwinifer. My gaze darted to Caius, my body heavy and weak. With a flick of his fingers, he cleaned out the vomit covering me, his pants, and the ward.
“Tell the emissary and the half-breed to release them too,” Varian ordered.
Reagan gave a curt nod to Gwin, his sister pursing her mouth before she pulled back her power and stepped away from the Scion. Finnegan did the same.
Reagan’s gaze found mine, his brow furrowed in a way that made shadows cross his face, mixing anger with sorrow. He didn’t seem to be breathing, so I blinked, eyelids heavy, as if I could tell him I was still here.
He spoke then, his voice low, just a chilling calm. “Do whatever you’re going to do with me, Varian. I won’t cast. You’ve left me no other choice.”
Gwinifer cursed.
Goyle and Dexter had risen to their feet, and they spread across the room.
Dexter struck Finnegan across the face; the sharp crack of the blow echoed, and Finnegan’s head jerked to the side, his lips curling as he spat onto the floor. The other one moved toward Gwinifer, but before he could react, Finnegan’s voice followed, sharp and threatening. “Don’t touch her.”
The mage halted mid-move, then let out a snicker.
Gripping her shoulders, he drove his knee into her stomach with brutal force.
She gasped, her body doubling over for a moment, but fury still burnt in her expression.
Finn’s eyes remained on that mage, his hands trembling, as if he tried to restrain himself from striking.
“Enough of that,” Varian drawled, rubbing a hand over his neck, the skin clearly red and marked with fingers.
They pushed my friends to their knees and bound them to the floor. I could see the faint lightning coming from Reagan’s hand, as though his power was straining for release, suppressed by his clenched fists. His eyes burnt deadly on the Scions, as if calculating every possible way to kill them.
Reagan said, “I’m here, Varian. You have me. What the fuck do you want?”
Varian tilted his head, his smirk widening into something cruel. “I see you’ve improved. Grown a bit more . . . restrained. At this point, I half expected to be facing some raging monstrosity. Cheers for that.”
Reagan’s expression remained carved from stone. Unflinching.
“Very well. I’ll be direct,” Varian said.
“I want you to surrender, cousin. Abandon whatever scheme you’ve concocted to sabotage the judge’s timeline and wait until the court mage arrives .
. . in just a few more minutes. I thought he would see your claws, but that is of no consequence.
” He flicked his gaze toward the clock mounted high on the wall, its ticking the only sound in the room apart from the storm outside.
“In exchange, your precious human will not be harmed. Not anymore. And the staff members. I’ll even see to it that you’re given proper honours as Mountheim’s former lord when I assume my place. ”
“Assume or take?” Gwinifer cut in, her voice worn, as though the pain of the blow had yet to subside.
Varian threw her a withering glance. “It’s good for you to know that I have no intention of keeping a half-breed on the staff. Especially one with a history of attacking the mageborn.”
Half-breed. Not hybrid-born. The venom in the words twisted my stomach.
“Oh no,” Gwinifer said dryly. “However will I recover from this insult?”
Varian ignored her, turning back to Reagan. “Surrender now, and Mountheim can move forward under my guidance. You’ve done what you could, but your time is over. All I need is your cooperation.”
“Is that all?” Reagan gritted out through clenched teeth. “Varian, there are very few people I would trust with Mountheim’s future. And unfortunately for you, you are not one of them.”
“You are not in a position to decide. Think about what you stand to lose. The official is coming either way. Hand me the estate now, or watch them suffer. If she means nothing to you, fine. I miscalculated. What is one less human life to you? But if you do not want their blood on your hands, you will give up Mountheim. Stop dragging it down with you.”
Reagan’s eyes burnt cold. They flicked to me, then to his staff, and I was sure he was scheming for another way to force Varian’s hand. But to my dismay, and the staff’s, he stepped back and, one leg after the other, lowered himself to his knees.
Thunder rumbled.
Varian was revelling. “It’s astounding, the decisions you make. You let your weaknesses rule you, and this is why you failed.”
He struck, a brutal fist connecting with Reagan’s face. He swayed but didn’t fall, didn’t make a sound.
I lurched forward on instinct, but my restraints wrenched me back, forcing my arms into a painful twist. Caius’s snarl rang out before he backhanded me across the cheek.
A low growl filled the air. Not human. Not entirely sane. Reagan jerked forward on his knees. He seemed about to crawl towards me, then stopped himself.
The look he levelled at Caius was lethal, and the Scion betrayed the faintest flicker of unease. Varian paused, surveying Reagan, before clicking his tongue.
“Now, though I loathe to admit it, your power is unmatched still. That’s why I needed leverage, why I needed her.
” His eyes cut to me. “But I don’t like to rely only on your selflessness, cousin.
” He bent at the waist, lowering himself as he spoke.
“You’ll need to be weakened, anyway. For everyone’s safety. ”
A sickening wave of nausea rolled through me. It had nothing to do with my injuries.
With a flick of his wrist, Varian gestured toward the closed door to my right. The wood splintered, bursting open.
Grey skin stretched over an emaciated form, impossible to distinguish as male or female. A tattered body with long, spindly limbs and dark, flowing hair. Empty sockets where eyes should have been.
Wraith.
Reagan and the staff went to move, to end the creature. But Varian flipped his palms open. The creature stilled.
“None of that.” He waved them away.
Because he wanted the Wraith here. Because he had summoned it before they arrived.
All three of them were rigid on their knees while the Wraith hovered slightly closer. A grotesque, black tongue flicked out as though it could taste the power thrumming in the room. Its gaping maw quivered with anticipation, so abhorrent it was almost impossible to stare at it.
Varian’s words sank in all of us.
“It is here for you, cousin,” he said. “I hoped we could avoid this, but I need you weak. So remember what happens if you fight it.”
Reagan observed the monster under straight brows.
But Varian had miscalculated. Reagan wouldn’t surrender Mountheim. He would put the estate above everything. The curse had to break for his people. He wouldn’t hand it over, not when it would fall into Varian’s hands. Mountheim came first.
I waited, tense, for him to rise, to stop the creature, silently urging him to act. Not long after, I felt his eyes on the floor, earnest and unwavering, and I thought better of it.
Varian watched Reagan, eyes narrowing, as if searching for the faintest crack in his cousin’s resolve, the faintest hesitation in his expression.
“As long as you don’t harm her or them,” Reagan said, “I’ll agree to your terms.”
We yelled, the staff and I, our voices overlapping.
Varian acted, sliding a hand over the metal bracelet on his forearm as he stared at the creature, and the Wraith obeyed.
He gave it up. He gave it all up.
Black smoke spilled from the creature’s maw, closing in on Reagan’s face. Inky tendrils flew out and curled into his mouth. His neck strained with it.
My breath hitched when I saw the way his skin turned ashen, dark hollows forming under his eyes. White, silver power flowed from his mouth into the smoke, toward the Wraith’s maw.
It was draining him, siphoning his power, his strength.
“Stop!” I yelled, my voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this.”