Page 70

Sebastián

“ M agdalena.”

Her name tore free from my throat like broken glass, centuries of carefully buried grief and guilt rushing up to choke me.

My sister. My little sister.

The heretic I had condemned to burn, my own hand signing the death warrant.

The air grew thick and still, as if nature itself held its breath. Even Vale’s smug expression had frozen, his gaze darting between us with newfound uncertainty.

My legs threatened to give way beneath me. “You’re… alive.” The words scraped past my lips, barely more than a whisper. Every prayer I’d whispered in the dark, every confession I’d made to empty churches, every moment I’d spent trying to atone for her death—all of it crumbled to ash in my mouth.

She stood before me in the same dress she’d worn that final day—plain white wool. Her dark curls tumbled past her shoulders, so like my own. But her eyes… Her eyes now burned with an unholy light I had never seen in life.

Kit and Rory flanked me, hackles raised, but utterly still. Even Flynn’s laboured breathing had gone quiet. The night air hung heavy with the scent of grave dirt and stagnant water.

Magdalena took a step forward, her bare feet leaving no impression in the damp grass. The movement was wrong—too fluid, too smooth. Like a puppet being pulled by invisible strings .

A memory flashed— the hyena . That impossible creature that had appeared again and again.

Outside the hospital, across from Rising Dough, during the van chase.

At the time, I’d questioned my sanity, seeing such a beast in London.

But now… those unnatural yellow eyes. My mind reeled as understanding dawned: Magdalena had been there all along, watching me.

You’re alive, I’d just said. But… was she truly?

“Brother,” she said, English now, her voice carrying the hollow echo of a tomb. “Did you truly think death would keep me from you?”

The endearment twisted like a knife in my chest. I had rehearsed this moment countless times in my darkest hours—what I would say if I could see her one last time. But now, faced with this mockery of my sister, words failed me entirely.

“Brother,” she said again, that tomb-echo in her voice growing stronger. “Such guilt you’ve carried. Such prayers .” Her lips twisted. “I heard every one.”

The water behind her rose higher, defying nature. I fought to keep my voice steady. “How did—”

“How did I survive the flames?” A manic, screeching sound—her laugh.

“Your precious mentor saw to that. Rodrigo made sure I burned while clutching your crucifix. A final act of mercy , he called it.” She spat the word.

“But he didn’t know what that cross had become.

What power it held after my lover’s ritual. ”

My mind reeled. The crucifix? Lover’s ritual?

The diary pages I’d read days ago suddenly blazed with new meaning—how I’d caught her in the woods, my crucifix found in her possession, sitting on her unholy altar.

All this time I believed she’d stolen it out of spite, an act of defiance against the brother who opposed her.

But no. She’d needed it for something far darker.

“Oh yes, brother. While you were hunting heretics, I found real power. Found freedom .” Her gaze drifted to Flynn. “But freedom always has a price. ”

The water twisted into impossible shapes behind her. “Lilith saved me from the flames. But her help came with conditions. Blood magic, at first. Then darker things. Always more, always stronger.”

“Lilith?” Horror clawed up my throat. The Mother of Demons. The First Witch. Even humans knew to fear that name, but to creatures like me, she was far more than just a cautionary tale. The hyena. Lilith’s favoured beasts, her night-stalking hunters.

My sister’s eyes flashed. “Who else would understand? A woman cast out for refusing to bow, to submit?” A bitter smile twisted her lips.

“You were so busy playing the perfect son, the perfect Catholic, you never saw how they suffocated me. How they stripped away everything I was. Lilith offered me power instead of submission. Choice instead of chains.”

The water behind her surged higher. Lilith . Lilith, born from the primordial waters before even Eve was created. The first of God’s creatures to harness the seas’ power. And now Magdalena commanded water—she wielded the very essence of her demonic patron.

“I tried to tell you, brother. All those times I begged you to listen. But you were too busy hunting heretics to see your own sister drowning in their doctrine. Too blind to see that their God had no place for women except on their knees.”

The words cut me deep. How had I not seen her suffering? Too wrapped up in my own ambitions, in Rodrigo’s poisoned obsession, the Church’s iron grip.

My sister’s eyes burned brighter. “But Lilith listened. She saw me, saw my suffering. She became my savior.” Magdalena’s words turned bitter.

“For a price. Five centuries, brother. That’s what Lilith gave me.

Five hundred years before she claims my soul completely.

” Her voice faltered. “But she’s already taking pieces of me. I can feel myself… slipping away.”

I stared at her, unable to reconcile this version of her with the young woman I’d once loved, once played with in our garden under the hot Spanish summer sun.

The fragment of memory was hazy, but I could still hear her clear voice rising to Heaven, still see the sunlight catching in her dark curls .

“Do you know how many I’ve sacrificed to keep her satisfied?” When I said nothing, she snapped, “ Twelve. Twelve so far.” Then she smiled, gesturing at Flynn. “He’s my thirteenth. My last. And the darkness inside him, it’s ready. I can finally break free of Lilith’s demands.”

Behind me, Flynn made a choked sound. Whether from fear or the spreading frost, I couldn’t tell.

The water churned violently behind her. “This is my way out. Thirteen vessels of concentrated dark magic. Thirteen souls prepared by my cambions, their power distilled into something pure enough to satisfy her. To buy my complete freedom.”

Vale took his position beside Magdalena. How long must he have been working with her, watching over me, waiting for this moment? Had she bargained with Vale just to toy with me? No, to find me. To help reclaim the crucifix. The very cross that had saved her, that she needed for this final ritual.

“Twelve so far.” She smiled, an awful thing, too many teeth gleaming in the dark.

“The thirteenth sacrifice will complete the ritual, break Lilith’s hold forever.

” Something desperate crept into her voice.

“Time’s running out, brother. Either I complete this, or Lilith drags what’s left of my soul to Hell.

Do you want that on your conscience, brother ? ”

The water behind her surged higher, no longer merely defying nature but seeming to mock it.

“This thirteenth requires something more. How fitting that the brother who condemned me has brought me the crucifix that started it all.” Her sneer pierced my soul.

“And of course…” Her gaze slid to Flynn. “Our final sacrifice.”

“No!”

Priya’s shout cracked through the night like a gunshot. She stood beside Flynn, practically vibrating with defiance, hands raised in a protective stance.

My sister’s presence had held me in a trance of horror and guilt, but Priya’s cry—and Flynn’s face, twisted in terror—snapped me back to reality. The weight of five centuries of remorse couldn’t outweigh my duty to protect them .

Magdalena’s laughter echoed across the park. “How sweet. The little witch thinks she can interfere.” She cocked her head. “Tell me, girl, did your grandmother teach you real magic? Or just pathetic charms?”

“Leave her—” I started, but Magdalena’s hand shot out.

Priya’s body lifted from the ground as if yanked by invisible strings. She flew backwards, her scream cut short as she slammed into a large tree with a sickening crack. Her body crumpled to the ground.

Kit’s wolf form lunged forward with a snarl, but Magdalena’s power held him in place. Even Vale took a step back, swagger replaced by genuine fear.

“Begin,” Magdalena commanded, and with a flick of her wrist, the crucifix tore itself from my grip, flying across the space between us to land in her waiting hand.