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Carla

I feel the magic flowing through me, warming my body like liquid fire, sending waves of protection through every inch of my being. This isn’t confidence—this is pure survival instinct kicking in as I stare at Anora, who’s hovering in the air, dark magic pooling in her hands like toxic sludge.

Power hums, making the hair on my arms stand on end. Even the concrete beneath my feet seems to vibrate, responding to the clash of our energies.

My eyes shift to Amari, bloodied but still standing, then back to Anora.

The darkness in her eyes terrifies me. I’ve seen her angry before, but this is something else entirely—something primal and untethered.

Her eyes aren’t just dark—they’re bottomless pits, like looking into an abyss that could swallow worlds.

The dark magic curling around her fingers pulses and writhes, like snakes eager to strike.

Anora laughs, the sound cold and hollow. “I don’t want your man,” she says, pointing a finger directly at me. “Oh no, I want you.”

My stomach drops as her magic swirls darker, green and black tendrils coiling around her fingers.

“I’m curious,” she continues, her voice dripping with venom. “Even in my travels to the future before I got my powers, you didn’t exist. Limbo didn’t exist. I took it all.” Her eyes narrow to slits. “So where the fuck did you come from?”

I take a step forward, my hands raised in what I hope is a calming gesture. “You don’t mean that, Anora. It’s the dark magic talking. Please, please calm down.”

“I’m done calming down for these humans,” she spits. “When are you going to get it?”

“You’re the queen of Wintermoon,” I plead. “We need you.”

She throws her head back and laughs again, the sound making my skin crawl.

“The best way to stop these humans is by setting an example. Otherwise, they will keep trying.” Her voice rises.

“We isolate ourselves on these islands just to give them space. They use us time and time again—for resources, for entertainment.”

Her laughter turns wicked, her eyes wild with madness.

“I think by changing the future, I gave Fate the opportunity to change things as well, and that’s why you were born.

You weren’t born out of the kindness of Mother Fate’s heart, Carla.

You were born to put me down. Because Fate knew she made a mistake that she couldn’t take back by answering the Blackwood prayer. ”

I shake my head, the words cutting deep. “You’re wrong. You just need to know how to balance out this power.”

“We talked about this before,” she says, her voice dropping dangerously low.

“And I told you; I’d rather one than everything.

” She spreads her arms wide, the magic coiling around her like serpents.

“You’re either going to put me down or siphon this magic out of me.

Because I’m tired. Tired of going to bed every night wondering when these humans are going to finally take him from me.

Or these corrupt souls from a realm YOU should be governing, yet you don’t. ”

My heart pounds against my ribs. “I have my power now. All of that is going to change. Let’s just go home.”

I glance at the web cocoon where Amir and Kade are trapped and start to shift my magic there, but Anora charges forward with a feral scream.

The sound tears through, shattering the windows of a nearby storefront.

Glass rains down around us as she hurls herself toward me, hands outstretched, black and green magic streaming from her fingertips like toxic ribbons.

Instinctively, my hands come up, and pink weblike magic forms a shield around me.

It crystallizes, intricate patterns forming a barrier between us.

Anora’s dark magic slams into it—and bounces right off, hurtling back at her with such force that she’s knocked to the ground, sliding across the pavement.

The impact leaves a trail of cracked concrete in her wake. She slams into a metal bench, the frame twisting around her. For a moment, everything is still. Then the bench shatters apart, pieces flung into the air by an explosion of dark energy.

The rejection of her magic only enrages her more. She rises, her body vibrating with fury. “You’re really trying to piss me off.” Her gaze shifts to Amari, and something inside me snaps.

Without conscious thought, magic webs pool from my fingertips and charge at Anora, wrapping around her, lifting her off the ground. The pink strands of my power wind around her limbs, her torso, her neck—not choking, but restraining, their soft rose hue in the aftermath.

She yells in anger, struggling against my restraints. Her body contorts as she fights against my magic, her own power flaring in response. Where our magics meet, sparks fly—actual sparks that sizzle and pop, small explosions of light and energy.

“Please, Anora, please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t take down the web and try to calm you down at the same time.” My voice breaks. “I know you’re tired. I’m not invalidating you. I know.”

The effort of holding her is immense. My arms shake, my muscles burning as if I’m physically restraining her rather than using magic. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my temples. Each breath comes harder than the last, my lungs straining against the effort.

Anora struggles harder, and I can feel her power building beneath my restraints.

The dark magic pulses visibly through my webbing, stretching it, testing its limits.

I can’t hold her like this forever. Looking below her, I groan, then do what I truly didn’t want to do—I open a portal to limbo, the swirling vortex dark and foreboding beneath her feet.

The portal tears open reality itself, the edges of it jagged and raw.

“Please, Anora, please,” I whisper, Tabatha’s words replaying in my mind. The most difficult decisions as Queen of Limbo. Decisions that would hurt. The thankless work of a queen. This is exactly what Anora is experiencing—she’s tired of trying, of sacrificing.

“Being a leader is a thankless job,” I say, my voice steadier now.

“I see the sacrifices you make all the time without being appreciated for it.” I gesture toward the cocoon.

“Amir is fine. Kade is fine. They’re only trapped, and if you would just give me two minutes, I’ll free him, and you can take him home. ”

But the darkness in Anora’s eyes doesn’t leave, and defeat washes over me. I look to Amari and start to cry. “I can’t do this. I can’t. I love her.”

That’s when I notice it—pink magic starting to form in Amari’s hands.

It’s my magic, but somehow different, filtered through him.

It sparkles more intensely, as if refracted through crystal.

He looks at the cocoon web, then flashes across the street with his vampire speed, leaving a blur of motion that my eyes can barely track.

He glances back at me briefly, our eyes locking for just a moment, and I feel the connection between us—tenuous but strengthening by the second.

Amari presses his hand against the web, every line of his face tense with focus. His jaw clenches, muscles straining as he pushes his borrowed power into the cocoon.

His magic—my magic—pulses and spreads over the cocoon, crackling with energy.

Thin lines of pink light trace the surface of the web, forming a pattern like a map of constellations.

The web starts to crack like an egg, fine lines spreading across its surface, each one glowing brighter until the entire structure is illuminated from within.

It begins to evaporate, the pieces turning to dust and floating away on the breeze, sparkling like fairy lights as they dissolve into nothing. Amir and Kade step out from the disintegrating cocoon, bewilderment written across their faces as they take in their newly regained freedom.

Kade looks around, dazed and disoriented, while Amir brushes web dust from his tunic top, surveying the chaos surrounding him.

“Well, that was an interesting nap,” Amir says with a grin. “What did I miss?”

Kade nearly collapses, but Amir catches her before she hits the ground. Amari glares at him, his expression unreadable.

Anora hears Amir’s voice, and the change is immediate. She stops struggling against my restraints, and the darkness in her eyes shifts, receding like a tide until her normal dark brown irises return.

Relief floods through me, leaving me weak-kneed. I close the portal to limbo with a wave of my hand, then remove the weblike magic from around her. Anora lowers herself to the ground, her eyes focused on mine.

For a long moment, there’s nothing—just two very powerful witches staring at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. We’ve both seen the edge of the abyss today, and somehow, we both pulled back.

Amari helps Amir with Kade while Amir flashes over to Anora, gently rubbing her arm. His ears twitch nervously. “My Queen, what are you doing here? I thought you had business at the spa.”

The question snaps Anora out of her trance, and rage flares across her face. She starts slapping Amir’s arms, each strike sharp and deliberate. “You just keep trying me, and I’m fucking sick of it!”

I can’t help it—I start to laugh, the relief so overwhelming that it bubbles up in a slightly hysterical release.

Amir winces, his ears falling flat against his head as Anora continues her tirade. “But it’s the tourist island,” he protests weakly. “It’s part of Wintermoon.”

Anora points in the direction of the royal island, her finger jabbing the air. “Get your ass home NOW!”

Amir doesn’t wait for her to say it twice—he teleports away so fast that it’s a blink my eyes can’t even process. One moment he’s there, the next he’s gone.