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The White Lady curled her hand, jabbing her magic and breaking Evelyn’s wall of flame. In that instant, the beam of sunlight, the perfect minute of the day, hit behind the White Lady and illuminated the carved swirl. It caught fire, molten rock searing red.

Throwing one hand in front and the other behind her, the White Lady cast her dark magic in both directions. The light spreading through the carving of the tomb turned black and the stone ground began to crack, the sound echoing through the entire tomb.

At the center, a fracture split through the rock. The ground shook again, and Evelyn used her staff for balance. Rubble and rock crumbled into the steaming liquid that bubbled from beneath the ground. Death, decay, and darkness seeped into the air. The spell. The potion. The White Lady had used not only the age and time of the tomb, she’d used its structure.

Evelyn stood her ground, not losing hold of her flame. She met her fear head on, manifesting it into power and feeding her conviction to fight for those women who’d lost their lives to the darkness. She gave no stock to doubt, only her belief.

In her plan, forged with Kade. In her power. In herself.

The White Lady slumped, spent from her magic. Her already pale and weathered skin appeared to age before Evelyn. Her bones peeked through, stretched tight over darkened eye sockets and a hollow nose. She retrieved a sack from her shawl, full and heavy.

Evelyn’s heart sank, her magic sensing death.

The body parts.

Evelyn whipped her staff, sending her flame toward them, attempting to destroy those parts of the spell. Her ball of fire ricocheted off the sack and rounded back.

“No!” she shouted as the White Lady thrust the parts into the bubbling liquid. Black fire flared to life, the liquid morphing also to black. The sack sank, the liquid eating away at it.

The White Lady began to chant.

“With the gouged eyes, the ripped heart, the severed mind, and the lost hands, shield us, oh darkness! With the blood of the light, shield us, oh darkness! In this powerful hour, grant us cover, oh darkness!”

Movement caught Evelyn’s eye, but she paid no mind to the figure stalking the perimeter of the tomb’s cave in the shadows and in silence.

Evelyn approached the White Lady, whose eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and moved around the bubbling potion. Acid shot up in bouts from the center. Black fire flared around the White Lady. Black inky poison, like the one Evelyn had endured, inched its way like ivy up the White Lady’s arms.

Evelyn prepared to deliver a blow with her staff, but the White Lady’s eyes snapped back and met her gaze. She cast her magic, sending Evelyn flying across the tomb. Airborne. Until she hit the stone. Her bones hurt, her side throbbed, and her head rang.

The White Lady advanced.

“It is too bad I cannot kill you, Daughter of the Goddess,” she said. “For we need you.”

Evelyn stayed put, holding her stomach as if in anguish.

The White Lady cackled, mere skin and bone as she stared down at Evelyn. Her beady red eyes were now bloodshot, glistening orbs of full crimson.

Evelyn’s own magic cringed in proximity to the darkness. At what cost had this dark witch done this? She’d lost herself. Destroyed herself. And for what? Why?

“Did you really think you could take me on?”

“Yes,” Evelyn breathed. “We did.”

The White Lady’s eyes went wide.

But it was too late. A roar vibrated through the tomb. Kade in his werewolf form broke through the smoke and darkness, his jaw wide. He launched straight for the White Lady’s shoulder, embedding his teeth into the nape of her neck. She screamed. Screeched. Bellowed in pain.

In a single move, Evelyn rose to her feet. Kade thrust the injured White Lady into the center, over the rocks overlooking the steaming liquid. Death and darkness came from beneath. The spell had started.

Evelyn felt her bond with Kade, the fated mates magic giving her strength—tethered, intertwined, unbreakable. She couldn’t fathom the depths of their power when they finally bonded their souls in unity, knowing how strong the connection between them was now, how their magic danced effortlessly with one another.

Kade stood by her side, massive in his werewolf form. A warrior. A protector. His cross between man and wolf bulged with muscle and menace. The dark magic fled in fear from his unwavering strength. He growled when the White Lady moved, baring his sharp teeth, his eyes alight with lethal promise.

Her wide, red eyes looked up at him, mouth agape. “I didn’t sense you! How are you in my tomb?”

Buried in the depths of his long mane, Kade lifted Blair’s enchanted necklace. For this one fight, he’d put it back on to mask his wolf and presence. He tore it off, casting it into the flames. The last of his disguise burned away, as if the last of the lies between Evelyn and Kade were vanquished.

Evelyn cast her flame atop the liquid. Flame ate away at the darkness, spreading through the fractures and cracks of the floor.