Page 24 of Soul Bound (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #2)

24

VEX

“How?” I stare at Tilly, my mind racing to process what she just said.

She meets my gaze, and there’s something in her eyes that makes me shiver. It’s like looking into a well of ancient power that goes deeper than I can comprehend.

“The Praxian showed me during training this morning,” she says, her eyes are hard with determination as she explains, “During training with Morrigan, I finally understood what’s happening to me. This body—my body—was created to be the First Guardian’s vessel. I wasn’t some cosmic accident or mistake. I was born into it, lived in it, but...” She touches one of the black strands of hair. “I’m just keeping it warm.”

“The vessel was always meant for them,” Blackthorn says gravely. “A perfect container, crafted through ancient Druid magick, designed to house their return. It seems Madeline, and probably countless others through time, were prototypes.”

“So you mean Tilly could also be a prototype?” Draven snaps. “That this might not even be the real deal, and she ends up insane and disappearing?”

I stare at Luke, needing him to have the correct answer here. He isn’t the Headmaster right now. He is family, and he needs to step up and prove to us that he is my higher power for a reason.

“No,” he says steadily, eyes on Tilly. “I believe Miss Matilda is the real deal. The way this entire thing has gone down is vastly different to the records of the past.”

“Yes, but we don’t know for sure,” I say, using his pause to make my point. “We don’t know jack shit.”

He gives me that look that makes it clear he hates swearing, but I shrug. This calls for it if anything did.

“We know enough,” he says. “Miss Matilda. Do you believe you are the real deal?”

“Yes,” she croaks. “But maybe Madeline and the others also felt that way.”

“Say this is true, what happens to you?” I demand, my throat tight as this truth sinks in. We are being fools if we deny this. “When the first Guardian tries to claim your body?”

Tilly’s smile is grim. “Best case scenario? My consciousness gets shoved aside. Worst case?” She shrugs with forced casualness. “I cease to exist entirely.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Luc says fiercely, but Tilly just shakes her head.

“The magick responds to me because this body was crafted to channel it. But I’m not its intended wielder. I’m just preliminary testing.” She flexes her fingers, watching the rainbow sparks dance between them. “Every time I use it, I can feel her getting closer. Getting stronger.”

“Then stop using it,” Draven suggests, but I can tell from his tone he knows it’s not that simple. “Run.”

“I can’t,” Tilly confirms. “Whatever’s coming—whatever’s building beneath MistHallow—it’s going to happen with or without me. At least this way...” She straightens her shoulders, and I see the steel in her spine. “At least this way, I can try to prepare. Maybe find a way to fight back. If I don’t, she will ravage this world and probably many others searching for me. She will find me.”

“She won’t find you in Hell,” Luc says quietly.

I watch her carefully, seeing past the brave face to the anger underneath. Tilly isn’t afraid. She’s pissed off. Someone designed her entire existence to be disposable, and she’s not having it.

“No,” Tilly says firmly. “I’m not bringing this fight to Hell. Your mother has enough on her plate without an ancient power throwing a tantrum in her domain because I’m hiding there.”

“She’d protect you,” Luc argues. “You’re practically family at this point.”

“She doesn’t even know me!”

“She does,” Draven says. “And if her sons have chosen you, she will unleash, err, hell to protect you.”

I snort at the pun, as inappropriate as amusement is right now. “They’re right. They were sent here for a reason. I think the reason is you. I think their mum knows something.”

“I concur,” Luke says. “I don’t know much, but I do know that she was quite insistent the boys attend mid-year.”

“She didn’t say why?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “She said, and I quote, ‘They need to be here, right now, at this time’.”

“So we go and speak to Mom,” Luc says. “Find out what she knows.”

“No,” Tilly says in exasperation. “It doesn’t matter. That is secondary. I’m not hiding from this. This is my fight.”

“Our fight,” I correct her. “Or did you forget about the rest of us already?”

Blackthorn clears his throat. “There might be another option we haven’t considered.” When we all look at him, he continues carefully, “The binding ritual that trapped the First Guardian initially... perhaps we could modify it.”

“To what end?” Tilly asks.

“To bind you to your own body more permanently. Make it impossible for another consciousness to take control.”

“That’s...” Draven’s eyes widen. “That’s actually brilliant.”

“And probably impossible,” Tilly points out. “The original binding took three Druids, with a curse we can’t even read.”

“You’ve got two Princes of Hell, a dark warlock and a badass vampire mage,” I point out. “I think we match up.”

“You hope,” she mutters. “Look. I get that you are trying to protect me, but it’s not going to work. This Guardian has waited literally forever for me to show up. I’m here, and she isn’t going to let that slip through her fingers…”

Tilly trails off, and her face becomes pale.

“What?” I ask instantly.

“She is a she.”

“And?”

“The other three Guardians were he.”

“Okay?” I’m not following, and that annoys me. I’m usually one step ahead.

“The ritual chamber,” she gulps. “It was meant for them.”

I groan inwardly. Of fucking course. I rub a hand over my face with a sigh at myself. It all makes sense now. “So the child was meant to be born from her by one of them for her to take.”

“Gods,” Tilly mutters, going slightly green around the edges. “That’s sick.”

“But then why did that Christos asshole want to impregnate Tilly?”

“Because they are actually trying to help. It would save Tilly.”

“What?” she snaps. “Help me? They have done nothing but abuse me!”

“Okay, granted, help is a strong word. The first would’ve taken the body of the child, leaving you intact to fight her.”

“Kill the child, you mean,” Draven mutters, also looking ill.

“Precisely,” Luke says, getting up to speed as quickly as I knew he would. “A defenceless child is easier to remove from existence than a grown adult.”

“This gets worse,” Tilly groans.

“It’s barbaric!” Luc spits.

“Indeed. But you have to remember that these were archaic practices. Archaic creatures.”

“Shit. Fuck! I can’t do this!” Tilly cries, standing up and knocking her chair over.

I rise and grab her hand before she can bolt. “We aren’t letting this play out in that way in any shape or form. The baby is irrelevant. It’s you she wants. You are here now, and whatever plan they had failed. We have to forget about the child and focus on what is here and now.”

She yanks away from me, but I see the panic in her eyes starting to fade. Good. Panic won’t help us figure this out. She wants to fight, but the reality of what’s coming for her is starting to sink in.

“Tilly,” Luc says softly, his voice a rare gentleness that makes her pause. “We’re not letting anything happen to you. Whatever it takes, whatever magick, whatever deals—we’ll make it work.”

“You don’t understand,” she mutters, shaking her head. “This isn’t just about me. It’s about everything. If she gets loose?—”

“We’ll stop her,” Draven cuts in, his voice cold and steady.

For a moment, she looks at him, her blue eyes searching. Then she turns and walks away, leaving the room in a heavy silence.

“Fuck,” Luc breathes. “This is spiralling. We need a plan, and we need it now.”

“She’s also scared,” I point out. “And she’s trying to hide it. We need to give her something to hold onto.”

Draven’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker there. Not possession, not protectiveness, but something more profound. “We’ll give her everything,” he says quietly. “But first, we need to make sure she’s willing to take it.”

Luke clears his throat, and I look at him. “What?”

“You all care deeply for this girl,” he says.

“Yes. What of it?”

“Does she return your affections?”

I blink and hesitate. “I think so. Why? Stop with the cryptic, old man.”

“Who are you calling old?” he grumbles. “Look, there is a way you can make it infinitely more difficult for the First Guardian to take Matilda’s body.”

“How?” I lean forward, fists on the table. “Tell us.”

“A soul bond,” he mutters. “It’s about as archaic as they come. It will be painful, dangerous, and, if you aren’t all on the same page, fatal.”

The room falls silent, the weight of my uncle’s words hanging like a challenge. I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers as my eyes lock onto Luke’s with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. “Soul bonding? Are you out of your mind? That could kill her.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he replies, his voice darkening. “But that’s why you need to be on the same page. A soul bond is not something you take lightly. It’s not some curse you can unravel with a flick of your fingers and a catchy rhyme. It’s permanent. It’s painful. And if one of you falters...”

“If one of us falters, we lose her,” Luc finishes. “But what’s the alternative? Letting her fight this thing alone? She can’t even control her own magick half the time!”

My gaze never leaves Luke’s as I think this through at a rapid rate and come to a conclusion within seconds. “It’s about survival. The soul bond will tie all of us together. Our lives, our magick, our very essence. It will create a barrier around her that no entity, not even the First Guardian, can penetrate. But it comes at a cost. Each of us must be willing to give a part of ourselves to her. Completely. Irrevocably.”

The room seems to shrink, the air thick with the unspoken thoughts of the three of us.

“You’re asking us to bond with her,” Draven says quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “To link our souls to hers. If she dies...”

“We die with her,” Luc finishes, his jaw clenched.

“How defeatist of you,” I remark. “And if she survives?”

“Then we live,” Luc says simply. “Together. As one.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. I stare at Luc and Draven, searching their faces for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. But all I see is determination, and something deeper, something that I know will see us succeed.

If she will let us in. My doubts creep up on me, and I sigh. “I guess we need to have a conversation with her.”

“I guess you do,” Luke says, sitting back.