Page 144 of The Unbound Witch

The Dark King clenched his teeth, fighting the pain that attacked him. I tried to pull away, to save him. To cast. But as the stones leeched my power, my life, I could do nothing, locked inside my own body, fighting and screaming to escape. I failed. Failed them all and myself as all the guilt in the world fell on top of my already aching heart. I should have never let them be here.

A large brown palm landed on top of Bastian’s. Torryn. And then another. Atlas. They both buckled from the pain crashing over them.

“You’ll die.” I tried to yell, though it came out faint. “What are you doing? Please stop.”

I lurched, working desperately to pull away, to push them all away. To save them, but I couldn’t.

“All in. All out!” Atlas roared.

Shaking my head, my nose began to bleed. “No. It doesn’t work like that.”

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Couldn’t fight them. Down and down and down I fell into a pit of despair, power ripping from me as my vision blurred again. Squeezing my eyes shut, I opened to find a final hand on top of the others. Nym.

“No,” I whispered. “Not like this.”

“Seven hearts, Raven. Seven.”

But there were only six of us. Unless… I screamed. “Don’t you fucking do it, Nym.”

Wind thrashed through the air as Nym’s spirit-blessed marking glowed. And then that damned tiger bowed before standing to sacrifice himself, at the behest of his golden witch.

I watched in slow motion as Kirsi turned to the love of her life, tears falling, and placed her forehead to Nym’s. “I forgive you.”

Pain. Indescribable, searing pain flew into my body. To everyone. The pile of books began to melt, pulling at my power, ripping me from this world, throwing me back and then doing it again. Every bone in my body turned to dust as the others screamed my name. They’d come to save me. To give a piece of each of themselves to hold me to this world. But that Grimoire wanted me, had been bound to only me.

And I was fading.

They knew it. Bastian knew it. But we were almost there. I could feel the dissolving particles of my own life, and the rejuvenated spirit of the Book of Omnia. If I could only hold on, only give an inch more… The world slipped away. Plunged into darkness, my body fell limp. I fought to open my eyes, to go back to my Dark King.

The world was a blur as an eighth figure appeared behind Torryn, running for us. I squeezed my eyes shut and peeled them open, willing the world to be in focus. To see the form behind. My cheek burned anew. The handprint of the goddess holding me to this plane as if she were warning me of danger.

Chestnut hair.

Willow.

I could see the conviction on her face as she ran at full speed. My senses screamed. My fading heart pumped. Willow had always coveted power. If she broke this spell trying to steal it for herself, the entire world would lose all of its magic. I tried to warn the others, but I didn’t have the strength for words. I was wrenched from this world again.

I hurt all over. From the bottom of my feet to the hair on my head, still, when I used the last piece of life I had to open my eyes, I saw nothing but Willow’s outstretched palm flying directly for my chest.

The magic she’d thrown at me was enough to break me away from the circle, sending me flying backward. A blast of power crashed over the entire world in a giant wave of misery. They were all still there, still bound to the death spell cast upon the books.

My body was broken in so many ways, I couldn't get up. Instead, I crawled. Crying their names as I watched them all lift from the ground with that tower of books in the middle of them. We’d been robbed of a lifetime of knowing each other. Of Atlas’ jokes and Torryn’s guidance. Of Kirsi’s loyalty and Nym’s passion. Even Willow’s redemption I could not, would not, ever recover from this.

I tried to cast, but I was far too weak. The Grimoire had taken everything I had and now it fed off them. I brought my hand to my cheek where the goddess had touched me. Where that bright, searing power of purity and goodness had seeped into my soul.

It was all a lie. A goddamn lie. She’d never blessed me. No one blessed by the goddess would be damned to watch every person they loved in the world die because they’d tried to save you. Bastian’s legs hung limp, Kirsi had nearly faded away. My whole world was locked into that spell.

My stomach lurched as I turned and vomited, hating everything. Hating magic, hating love, hating myself mostly. The permanent lump in my throat burned as I stared, willing myself to breathe, my heart to beat. I didn’t hold back my tears, nor my wails of sorrow, as something among them snapped and they all crashed to the ground.

I crawled again. Arm over arm, dragging myself to Bastian’s still body. Laying my head on his chest and holding my shaking breath as I listened for a sound.

“Please,” I begged. “I know you can hear me. Please let me keep him. I did everything you asked.”

We hadn’t had long enough. Fleeting moments of professed love among a thousand others of death and ruination. I couldn’t live a life with any sense of happiness knowing what it felt like to be loved by him and to have lost it.

A gasp.

A single intake of breath filled the Dark King’s lungs.