Page 51

Distantly, I was aware of consciousness begging me to stop, but nothing registered. The floor at my feet exploded into sound, and once more, the scene had changed. Someone was shooting at me, but they’d never succeed.

I paused, concentrating, but nothing happened. My hand twitched as my fingers grasped the open air.

So, I wasn’t strong enough to access my arsenal yet.

Then, I needed to find another way.

I looked through the room, searching until I spotted the ceremonial knife that had recently been used against me.

Upon inspection, I realized it wasn’t a knife at all. It was a dagger.

Which was perfect—considering this was my expertise.

Some part of me resisted even as I reached for the blade.

This wasn’t me.

I grabbed it, and the warm, golden handle was a comforting weight against my palm. My stomach twisted in hesitation—I didn’t want to fight, to hurt anyone—but the thoughts quieted as another shot rang through the room, missing my nose by barely a hair.

I didn’t have a choice.

Their panicked, shouted exclamations were a balm to my rage, and I smirked. The witless rabble had trapped themselves with a power they had no hope of controlling.

For me, though, it meant nothing.

My tormentors were right to fret. While Tu would naturally be the one to rule his own people, engaging in more violent acts tended to upset the witch. Moreover, I was here and had no such reservations.

The thought hardly passed before the warm spray of blood washed over me. The scene had changed again, and I knelt on the floor. The time-worn tingle of my blade tearing through flesh made my skin crawl, and the motion sharpened the ache in my shoulder.

The witch was dead before he fell.

One down. Four more to go.

The tainted spell continued to press in around me. The feeling almost overshadowed something within that sought to contain my strength. I clenched my jaw, my muscles tight, as I briefly paused to address it.

Who dared to bind my power?

Regardless, with an instant of concentration, it shattered.

My heart raced, pounding painfully within, as newfound vigor radiated through me. The smell grew stronger, and my focus shifted across the room.

Daniel Cole, the leader of this coven, stumbled backward as our eyes met. He grasped his weapon, attempting to reload his pistol, before he dropped it to the ground and turned toward the sealed door.

He wouldn’t make it.

But he was now weaponless. A slight hesitation twisted in my stomach.

I could let him live.

As quickly as the thought came, I squashed it, shaking my head.

No. I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.

I had to ignore my conscious, if only for another moment.

I swung my arm back, the world exploding in movement, and then he, too, lay in a broken heap on the floor as his life’s essence poured out of the gaping wound in his chest.

The enchantment was broken the instant his blood touched my skin. A screaming began to resound in my head, and as my feet were coated in crimson, the reality of my actions slammed into me. My weapon fell as I touched my lips.

I hadn’t meant to take things this far.

The shooting had stopped, and so had the shouts. The three remaining men had retreated to the opposite end of the room where they begged for mercy.

Daniel was dead, and the spell was broken. Could I allow them to leave?

Yes. I didn’t want this.

I fell to the floor near Finn—who was beginning to stir.

It seemed like an ocean of red surrounded me, staining my legs and arms. My pain was still a distant thing, slowly beginning to inch its way back to my awareness.

The feel of it seeped into my pores, and I lost my breath as my thoughts began to whirl.

A roar caused the room to shake, and the black dots faded from the corner of my vision.

Titus.

Somehow, I knew it was him. Although he sounded so far away.

The survivors began to scramble for the door in their haste to escape, stumbling over the forms of their fallen comrades. But my mind pulled back from them, and instead, I focused on the dagger.

The weapon had fallen a short distance from my knees and was coated with the evidence of my actions. The last few moments replayed in my head, but it still didn’t make sense. There was no way I would hurt people.

I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t.

I latched on to the thought as I huddled inward, trying to block the sight of the room. But pressing my face to my knees only drew my attention to the floor—then to my hands.

They were stained with blood. This was the first time I’d ever had to kill anyone.

The last of the magic fell as the door slammed open.

They were here, and I was safe. But it didn’t matter. Nothing could change what’d happened. I didn’t even glance up at their arrival; I couldn’t look away from the evidence.

A warm body crashed into mine as someone grabbed me, turning me until I could see my surroundings again.

A furious, white dragon—Titus—descended on the remaining men who’d attempted to flee, ripping at their faces. Then Damen appeared after Titus, sword brandished as he ran the blade through a witch’s neck.

My thoughts drifted as my strength faded.

“Bianca…” Miles’s arms trembled around me.

However, my skin was buzzing as my head spun, and I couldn’t muster the energy to respond.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, looking at Julian. “Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s been injured,” Julian replied. “I’m not even sure how much blood is hers.” His face was blurry, and I winced when he touched me. His attention strayed to my neck.

“She was shot in the shoulder, too.” Finn had woken up and was sitting on his knees. “She was trying to protect me,” he added, and Julian scowled.

I began to tremble. Was the room always this cold?

Julian’s expression darkened, and he looked up. “Damen, forget about them.” His tone was calm despite the situation. “Find something to stop this bleeding.”

Hands pulled at me, repositioning me until my injured side was away from Miles, and my head was pillowed in the space between the witch’s arm and chest.

Julian was kneeling in front of me, his expression blank. I wanted to speak to him but couldn’t think of anything to say. And when Damen stepped into view, holding a dish towel, Julian began to issue out a series of commands in an authoritative tone that compelled the others to obey.

My awareness was fading as a lulling peace pulled at my senses. But I was too afraid to let it take over.

“J-Julian…” I could only lift my fingers.

His guarded features dropped as his relieved gaze met mine. “Bianca.” Even the way he said my name made me feel better. “Don’t talk. You’re losing a lot of blood. It’s a miracle you’re still conscious.”

“What happened?” Damen asked, putting his phone away. His clothes were stained with red, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

I didn’t like seeing him so upset.

“I literally just told her not to talk!” Julian glared at him. “Her throat has been cut, and there’s a bullet lodged in her shoulder. You can be nosy later.”

Did it not bother them that I’d killed people? Although to be fair, Titus and Damen had dealt some gruesome damage to the others. So probably not.

Still, why did I feel guilty now when, before, I hadn’t been bothered?

At least Finn seemed to be okay. He was already up and moving around inspecting bodies, so somehow, he’d gotten free.

I tensed as something occurred to me. Something far more important than anything I was suffering. I was so ashamed that I wanted to die.

The others exclaimed as I scrambled to my feet, I dodged their reach and stumbled across the room. Titus was ripping out someone’s intestines, and I felt terrible, yet thankful, that he was distracted.

Damen intercepted me at the hearth.

“Hold on,” he said, grabbing my outstretched hand. “What are you—”

“My pin,” I gasped, my voice scratchy. I twisted my hands, trying to escape. I couldn’t mess this up too. “Let me go.”

“Darling, please stop.” Julian moved beside us and touched my face. He had to have done something because a second later, my panic fell away. “Just relax. We’ll take care of everything.”

I slumped into Damen’s hold. This was nice. Why was I upset?

The intervention lasted only a second. The room still smelled of earth and blood, and the memories refused to release their hold.

I had to get to it. I had to make sure that Titus would always have a piece of his mother with him. A sick sweat had begun to break out over my skin, and I trembled.

“No!” I protested, my body trembling.

“Titus!” Miles snapped in the background. “Get over here!”

Almost immediately, he’d abandoned his feast and was beside me—naked, of course, but my mind was too full to care.

Titus picked me up and held me against his chest. His firm touch soothed the raw edges of my panic. He might hate me soon, but he wasn’t going to hurt me. Besides, there was no reason to fight. There was no way I could escape him.

The sick feeling in my stomach receded. Exhaustion took over, cloaking the panic. My head fell against him as my consciousness drifted .

Julian continued issuing instructions. “We’re going to the hospital. Titus, keep her as still as possible. She’s been moving too much, and we need to stop the bleeding. Damen, stay here. You need to watch Finn. When our backup arrives, you can—”

“Finn is fine. I’m going with you.” Damen’s tone allowed no argument. “There’s no way I’m staying behind.”

Julian glanced at Miles, who stood near my feet.

“I’ll have Jin purify the area once the cleanup is done,” Miles said as he crossed his arms. “But I’m going, too.”

“Oh, all right.” Julian threw his hands in the air. “But we need to go.”

The world tilted with Titus’s every step, and even though he was trying to be careful, the jostling made the pain I’d been trying to ignore grow worse. By the time we’d reached the bottom of a steep staircase, it was a relief to fall into nothingness.