Page 2 of Soul Bound (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #2)

2

VEX

We race through the twisting passages, the sound of pursuit echoing behind us. Tilly’s hand is clammy in mine as I pull her along. We round a corner and skid to a halt. The passage opens into a vast cavern, lit by an eerie purple glow coming from a pool in the middle. Ancient stone pillars rise into the darkness above, covered in glowing runes.

“Vex,” Tilly whispers, tugging on my sleeve. “Look.”

I follow her gaze to the far side of the cavern. Two figures are locked in combat. Luc and Draven. Red fire crackles around Luc’s fists as he throws punch after punch at his brother. Draven deflects each blow with shields of crackling black energy.

“Guys!” Tilly shouts. “Stop!”

They either can’t hear us or are too caught up in their fight to care. The chambers are playing on our deepest fears and desires, turning us against each other. Luc wasn’t fully invested in the ritual we did, and now… now we are fucked up the arse with a red hot poker.

“Stop it, you fucking idiots!” I yell, marching up to them and ducking as magick zaps in all directions.

I grab Tilly’s arm and yank her behind me as a blast of black energy narrowly misses us, scorching the air. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Luc’s eyes are wild, and his normally arrogant features are twisted with rage. “You shouldn’t have taken his side!” he snarls, his voice demonic as it echoes around the chamber. He swings another fiery punch at Draven, who sidesteps it with a cold smirk.

“You’re delusional,” Draven drawls, his voice dripping with disdain. The black energy around him pulses ominously. “This isn’t about sides. How many more times do I have to say it? It’s about doing what’s right for Tilly.”

“I know what’s best for me, and it isn’t you two going at each other like two rabid dogs!” she yells.

“Hellhounds?” I remark dryly.

She shoots me a death stare that makes my cock hard.

But it seems to resonate with the Hell twins.

For a moment, they pause, their eyes flicking toward her. Luc’s fiery fists flicker, and Draven’s black energy wavers. But then the cavern seems to pulse around us, the runes on the pillars glowing brighter, and their fury reignites.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. Tilly’s right—this is getting us nowhere. But before I can intervene, the ground beneath us trembles violently, sending us all stumbling. Fuck. I’d forgotten about the thing chasing us. But it’s not that. The pool in the middle of the cavern ripples, the purple glow intensifying into a blinding light.

“What the hell is that?” Luc growls, his eyes narrowing as he steps back from Draven, his fiery fists still crackling.

Draven’s smirk falters as he stares at the pool. “Something’s coming,” he says, his voice low and edged with unease. The death magick around him shifts, forming a protective barrier.

Tilly grips my arm tighter, her nails digging into my skin. The air grows heavy and thick with an oppressive magick that makes my runes burn against my skin. The water in the pool churns, rising in a swirling vortex that stinks of rot and decay.

A figure cloaked in tattered robes steps out of the water, its form shifting and twisting like smoke. Its face is obscured by a hood, but I can feel its gaze piercing through me, cold and calculating. The magick radiating from it is ancient—older than anything I’ve ever encountered.

“Who dares disturb my slumber?” it rasps, its voice echoing with a thousand whispers that send shivers down my spine.

Tilly steps forward before I can stop her, her chin lifted defiantly despite the fear. “I’ve had about enough of this bullshit,” she mutters and then louder, she says, “Tell us who you are, and we will tell you who we are.”

That stops the figure in its tracks. It isn’t quite sure what to do about Tilly’s defiance. It’s definitely not the same arsehole who was groping Tilly earlier, so this is a new threat. One I have a horrible feeling is also attached to this Praxian magick in some way, and possibly the arsehole as well.

The figure tilts its hooded head, the shadows beneath its cowl shifting as if it’s studying her. Its voice, when it speaks again, is less a whisper and more of a growl, laced with something akin to amusement. “Defiance from such a fragile thing. How sweet.”

Tilly’s jaw tightens, and I can feel the tension radiating off her. “I’m not as fragile as I look,” she snaps, her voice steady despite the way her pulse races under my fingers. Her magick sparks weakly at her fingertips, but she doesn’t back down.

The figure chuckles, a sound that sends a cold shiver down my spine. “Perhaps not. But you are outmatched witchling. And your companions…” It gestures vaguely toward Luc and Draven, who are still bristling like caged animals, their magick simmering dangerously. “They are too consumed by their own petty grievances to protect you.”

“She doesn’t need protection,” Draven says coldly, his blue eyes narrowing. The death magick around him coils like a serpent, ready to strike. “She can kick your arse, no problem.”

Luc snorts, his fiery fists flaring brighter. “If she gets to you before me. If there is one thing I loathe, it’s a fucking monologue. So shut the fuck up already, and let’s fight.”

The figure laughs again, the sound echoing unnaturally through the cavern. It raises a ghostly hand, and the air around us thickens suddenly, pressing down on us. My runes burn hotter against my skin as I struggle to breathe.

“You all think yourselves so powerful,” it sneers. “But you?—”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I growl, cutting it off. “I’m with Luc. I can’t fucking stand a villainous monologue. Let’s fight so we can kick your arse and move on to the next shitshow.”

If I could see his face, I would swear he was glowering at me. Smoke is practically coming out of its robe. “As you wish,” he says and fires a bolt of white lightning at me that takes me by surprise when it fizzles out before it even makes it two feet.

“Well, fuck,” I snicker. “Looks like someone doesn’t have it in them.”

The hooded figure recoils as if struck, its form wavering. “Impossible,” it hisses. “My power... what have you done?”

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Luc drawls.

I smirk, though inwardly I’m just as confused. Whatever’s affecting our magick and making it weaker, appears to be affecting this entity too. “Looks like you’re not as all-powerful as you thought.”

Tilly narrows her eyes. “Who are you? And what are you doing down here?”

The figure’s form flickers again, like a faulty hologram. When it speaks, its voice sounds strained. “I am one of the original Praxian druids. We who sealed away the original magick. But the seal is weakening. The magick, it calls to be freed. What has happened?”

“Are you a Guardian?” I ask, getting serious for a second.

“Yes. There are four of us.” He pauses. “One has arisen. Christos.”

Tilly growls, and I join in. Luc and Draven glare at us, but we don’t have time to fill them in.

“Christos,” Tilly spits out. “That ancient, perverted fucker!”

I shoot her a wary stare. She is seriously pissed right now. With good reason.

The hooded figure nods slowly. “You know him?”

“Unfortunately,” Tilly mutters.

“What exactly is your role as a Guardian? And give us your name, so I don’t have to keep referring to you as ‘it’ in my brain.”

“Xanthos. We were tasked with guarding the cursed magick, ensuring it remained dormant. What do you know of Christos?”

“He woke up ages ago, left the caverns and tried to get me pregnant,” Tilly states. Draven and Luc hiss with rage. “Not now, you idiots. Three years ago. Although I only just found out that is what he was trying to do… anyway, he is back now, but he can’t leave. We think he is now tied to this place, or rather Vex thinks, because he is syphoning off the bit of magick seeping through the burial ground.”

“Vex?” Xanthos asks.

I raise my hand.

“Clever warlock,” he murmurs, before turning back to Tilly. “You say he left his position as Guardian and came to you to bear a child?”

“Apparently.”

“We don’t know why, though,” I say. “I haven’t been able to connect the dots.”

“Wait,” Luc interrupts. “Are we seriously trusting this thing?”

“Xanthos,” Tilly snaps. “And yes. He is…” She stares at him and, after a beat, moves forward. “He is my ancestor.”

“That makes sense,” I mutter, “but we can do the family reunion thing later. We have an enraged ancient Druid after us, that thing that was chasing us, and we still haven’t found the runes to re-curse the land. Xanthos, can you help with that?”

“Re-curse?”

“We think it’s the only way to prevent the latent Praxian magick that is in the ground from breaking free.”

Xanthos seems to consider this for a moment, his shadowy form rippling. “Re-cursing the land may indeed be the only way to contain the magick,” he says slowly. “But it is not without risk. The original curse nearly destroyed us.”

“We don’t have much choice,” I argue. “If that magick gets loose, who knows what damage it could do.”

Tilly nods in agreement. “Can you show us where the runes are? We need to copy them exactly.”

Xanthos hesitates, then gestures toward one of the pillars. “The runes are there, but they are fading. The curse is weakening.”

We move closer to examine the pillar. The runes are barely visible, etched into the stone and glowing faintly. Tilly pulls out her pen and paper, and I watch her as she sketches, but say to Xanthos, “Can you re-curse the land?”

When he doesn’t answer, I look up to see that he is gone.

“Where the fuck did he go?” Draven asks.

“Good fucking question.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Luc growls, his eyes scanning the cavern. “Our only source of information just vanishes.”

“At least we got something useful out of him before he pulled his disappearing act,” I mutter, moving closer to examine the pillar with the fading runes.

Tilly is already sketching furiously, frowning in concentration as she copies the ancient symbols.

I peer over her shoulder, studying her drawings. “No wonder it took multiple Druids to cast it originally.”

Draven moves to another pillar, running his hand along the stone. “There are more over here,” he calls. “But they’re even fainter.”

“Copy as many as you can,” I tell Tilly. “We don’t know what we need to recreate the curse properly.”

She nods, flipping to a new page in her notebook. As she works, I notice the tremble in her hand. The stress of everything we’ve been through is clearly taking its toll.

“You okay, sprinkles?” I ask quietly.

She glances up at me, offering a weak smile. “I’m okay. It’s been weird. But less harrowing so far than the last time.”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Draven snaps as a loud growl echoes around us.

“Sorry!” Tilly exclaims. “Fuck! Sorry!”