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Barros’ scream rocked something in her, something so central to her core that she knew that answer almost immediately.

No. She couldn’t leave anyone to this fate.

At her side, her sword flared to a near blinding brightness as she recalled the beaming smile on Dew’s face each morning she would greet her. She let her love for the fairy fill her and guide her mercy.

In one fluid move, she sliced through where she thought Barros’ heart had once been.

As soon as her sword passed through, she felt the necklace around her wrist loosen. Her eyes traveled down to watch as it corroded, as if years were taking their claim to the material.

She braced herself for the pain she’d felt in Alessandro’s cave, but all that came was a gentle heat. It traveled from where her hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword and it crawled up through her chest.

A foreign, yet all too familiar trace of magic reached from behind her.

Her gaze shifted to the staff in Alessandro’s grasp.

A shadow of a body stood next to it, warm, inviting and were those angel wings?

Time had come to a halt around her. Barros’ screams were silent. Several witnesses were in mid-step and Alessandro hadn’t moved his gaze from the form of Barros to her.

Her free hand unsheathed Whisper, and she pointed it at the figure.

“Who are you?” She demanded.

The shadow stepped forward into the light of her sword. A ghostly smile stretched on a face that she’d seen in Barros’ basement.

“There’s no time, little one. Claim the staff before he breaks it.”The voice was barely more than a passing breeze.

Rowan narrowed her eyes. “Why should I?”

“No time.”The words continued even after the shadow disappeared and time rolled forward.

Her attention attached itself to the staff. The deep ice spell was deteriorating, but she could also see hairline fractures on the wood of the weapon. Was it simply a race to see which would fail first? What would happen if it was the ice that was lost?

She had nothing to prove she could trust the ghostly figure. She didn’t even recognize it, but something about it had felt familiar. More compelling than that, it made her feel safe.

Gathering her courage, she reached out and broke Alessandro’s spell. Panic widened his eyes as she took hold of the oddly warm weapon.

“Trust me.” She squeezed her fingers around his.

He looked like he wanted to reject her request, but he grit his teeth and released his grip.

It made up for his decision to send her away by the smallest degree.

The darkness of the curse shot up her arm, but Rowan instinctively knew what she had to do as soon as her magic brushed against energy. She reached out towards where specks of the ghost had remained even after the power faded out and engaged her succubus like she had when she tried to suck Barros’ life force out. She took in the scraps of energy. As she did, she could feel the gates of all of her chakra points become as flexible as rubber.

For the first time since she woke up in Draconis’ medical ward, she felt whole.

She could finally see why the energy had been so familiar. It had been her own. At least partially. There had been something foreign inside her for so long she hadn’t known how to differentiate it until that moment.

The sound of soft laughter rolled through her head as the ghost emerged beside her, hands also on the staff.

“You’re doing it!”The voice cheered. “Just keep holding on!”

Rowan didn’t have time for questions. The darkness crawled further and further up her arms, down her legs, covering her until only her eyes remained unveiled.

“Uzziel?” The unexpected sound of her godfather’s voice stole Rowan’s attention.

It cost her.