Page 131 of The Unbound Witch

“They’re up there,” he announced.

Rave confirmed. “The last book isn’t far away either. It’s throbbing in my mind right now.”

I swished myself forward to look at her. “Are you okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I’m not. I won’t be okay until this is over so please stop asking.”

The earth rumbled beneath her, showcasing the endless rage and frustration she kept bottled up.

Leaning in, I placed my forehead on hers. “Time to let that fire out, my girl.”

Her ruthless smile was all the answer I needed.

Closing the space between us and the Forest witches, deep within the Moss Coven territory, the plan was to hang back and see how many of them there were, how they were keeping our guys hostage, and then sneak in and free them. But when Raven saw Atlas tied up by his hands, out cold and being dragged behind a horse with Bastian nowhere in sight, she lost her fucking mind, broke away from the group and went charging in like a damn maniac.

The sky above darkened like night had stolen the day. Thunder rumbled and lightning charged across the world. The ground shook and the wind blew stronger than it had in that storm over the ocean. Raven held both of her hands out, fingers curled, drawing on her power like some kind of goddess cursing the world.

The first wave of witches didn’t have a chance. With a single swipe of her arm, they were thrown so far, I couldn’t track them. I vanished, taking advantage of her ferocious distraction to surge forward and free Atty. The witch holding him asleep with a spell must have been distracted because he woke easily when I shook him.

“Stop sleeping on the job, Pup. Unless you want to end up on someone’s dinner plate.”

He started, scrambling to his human feet, though he had to be sore, covered with scratches and blood from being dragged. He might have even had broken bones. “Where’s Bash?”

“Are you okay?”

Holding an arm tight to his side, he shrugged. “Mostly flesh wounds. Where’s Bash?”

“Help me look. Steer clear of Raven.” I pointed to my best friend, pride stealing every ounce of caution. Some people fear the fire, and some become it.

Atlas’ eyes doubled in size as he looked between us. “Holy hell.”

“She’s a goddamn monster.” I beamed. “Find the king, Pup.”

He tore away from me and I moved back to Raven, watching her back as she fought off every person coming her way without breaking a sweat. She’d held back before and I knew Torryn was going to have a talk with her about it. It wasn’t easy to choose to be a killer. To take lives with no conscious effort and that would always be a war she fought. But when we faced the Moss witches, she’d have to bring this level of badass or we weren’t going to make it. It would be us against an entire coven of ruthless bitches, their minds twisted by Endora herself for many, many years.

A crack formed in the earth ahead of us, creeping toward Raven as she cast and cast again. Spells surged for her, but she moved just in time to avoid the brunt of them. Her skin had been sliced, her cloak in tatters, but still she attacked, stalking forward, dancing over the opening in the ground to penetrate the witch’s dwellings and find her missing king.

Atlas shouted, shifted and snarled as he bound forward, stopping to stand over the king that slept, discarded on the ground beside a trunk. Xena Foresthale rounded the wagon ahead, arms glowing as she sent a spell directly for Raven. She’d been pinned as the nicest coven leader by anyone that met her, but in this moment, she was anything but. Red faced and furious, she charged before Raven noticed her. Nym cut her off, stepping between them, but Xena cast her away without effort.

Raven, though? She took a glance at the approaching coven leader. The one that seemed to think she’d take that Moon Witch down with half a thought and smiled … Fucking smiled. Rave raised her arms the same second Xena did, but death was faster. Death was always the winner in a race against time.

Xena’s face faded from red to ashen in the blink of an eye. One moment she stood strong, the next, a pile of bones on the ground. But the Moon witch’s fury didn’t end there. Not with several other witches trying to run away. Not when Atlas and Torryn had to drag Bastian behind Raven. She cast again, sending so much death into the world that the ground below her wilted. The trees to our right died. No one that stood before her lived a single breath longer, aside from one. One single witch who was allowed to run ahead and warn the Moss Coven witches that death was coming for them and there was no place they could hide from her wrath.

Raven fell to her knees, blood pouring from her nose and her ears. She coughed, body trembling. She was a force. Walking death and destruction if she had the heart to be. But she was fragile. And she’d been pushed too far. Burying her face in her hands, she began to cry. Broken in a way that perhaps none of us would understand.

Bastian woke at the sound of her cries and crawled to her, pulling her into his arms and rocking her back and forth as he whispered into her ear.

Torryn pulled her away from the king, lifted her chin and breathed fire into her soul with words that reminded her that she was still good. She was not the villain. “Whatever damage you think you’ve placed on your soul, you let that go. Even the sky wages war on this Earth. No one believes you hate the witches before you, Little Witch. Only that you love those standing behind you more.”

When I pushed myself in, gripping the sides of her face with my cool hands, I rested my head against hers and closed my eyes. “You are blessed by the goddess. She has touched your face right here. She is everything light and pure and if you were dark, Raven… If you were anything but light, she wouldn’t have been able to do that. Don’t fear yourself, sister. Embrace it.”

Her eyes opened, bloodshot and bruised. Tears mixed with dirt tracked down her face as she nodded. Though she didn’t rise because of anything we’d said. Not because of our love. She rose because she had to. Simply that. One foot in front of the other to see this through.

The sky cleared, and the wind faded away. Bastian gripped Raven’s hand as she wiped her face and led him to the trunk, kicking it open. He pulled the old, leather-bound book from the box and handed it to Torryn. Without a word, the man shifted to a strix and carried it away.

One final book. One final witch. One more battle and this nightmare would be over. Come what may. But when Raven pulled away from Bastian, shoulders down, each step forward putting a sliver of more space between us, my shared glance with the Dark King spoke a thousand words.

Raven had been irrevocably broken.