Page 39

The smaller ones arrived first, no doubt drawn by the destruction and the darkness that poured off Celise and her sisters in waves.

They crawled out of the shadows and the cracks in the pavement.

Their grotesque, twisted forms were lit by the flickering flames.

They were hunched and malformed. Their claws scraped against the ground as they lunged at the fleeing humans, and their shrieks and growls added to the cacophony of chaos.

The humans’ screams grew louder as the demons attacked, tearing into flesh with razor-sharp claws and jagged teeth. Blood splattered the sidewalks and painted the once-vibrant streets in shades of red.

But it wasn’t just demons. The darkness drew others—vampires, their pale faces gleaming in the dim light as they descended on the humans with predatory glee. Their fangs flashed as they sank into throats, their victims’ screams muffled by the press of bodies.

Celise stood at the center of it all, her arms outstretched, her dark magic crackling around her like a living thing.

The chaos was a symphony, every scream and explosion a note in the grand symphony of destruction she had orchestrated.

Her lips curved into a cruel smile as she watched the humans scatter like ants, their fragile lives snuffed out in an instant.

But then, something changed.

Crestia staggered, and her hands clutched at her chest as the glow of her magic flickered and faded. “Celise,” she gasped, her voice filled with panic. “Something’s wrong.”

Celise turned sharply, her dark eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

Before Crestia could answer, Limaria cried out, collapsing to her knees as her silver hair dulled, the light fading from her eyes. Thraya and Hishta followed. Their bodies convulsed as their powers ebbed away, their magic unraveling like threads pulled from a tapestry.

“No!” Celise rushed to Crestia’s side. She grabbed her sister’s shoulders, shaking her violently. “What’s happening to you?”

Crestia’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Her body convulsed again, and then the air around her began to shimmer and warp. Celise’s heart dropped as the faint outline of a veil began to form—a tear in the fabric of reality, pulsing with an ominous red light.

“No, no, no!” Celise screamed desperately.

The veil widened, and its edges writhed like living flames. A foul wind poured out of it, carrying the stench of sulfur and decay. The screams of the damned echoed faintly from its depths, growing louder as the veil stretched open.

Crestia’s body was pulled toward it. Her limbs flailed as she fought against the invisible force dragging her in. Her screams joined the chorus, her voice raw and filled with terror.

“Celise!” Crestia shrieked, her eyes locking onto her sister’s. “Help me!”

Celise reached for her, her fingers brushing against Crestia’s outstretched hand. But it was too late. The veil swallowed her whole and abruptly cut off her screams as the tear snapped shut behind her.

One by one, the same fate claimed Limaria, Thraya, and Hishta. Celise watched, helpless, as her sisters were pulled into the abyss, their terrified cries echoing in her ears long after the veils had closed.

Despite the chaos around her, all Celise heard was silence.

Celise stood in the center of the destruction, her chest heaving, her hands trembling as she stared at the empty space where her sisters had been. The air was still thick with smoke and the stench of death, but all she could hear was the deafening roar of her own heartbeat.

She stumbled, her knees buckling as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. Something inside her felt … hollow. Like a piece of her had been ripped away.

Her sisters were gone. And with them, half of her soul.

Celise stumbled forward, her breath heaving in ragged gasps as she tried to steady herself.

The chaos of Times Square raged on around her, and the vampires and demons continued the devastation she and her sisters had unleashed.

Shattered glass blanketed the ground, illuminated by the flickering remnants of dying neon signs.

The acrid stench of smoke and charred metal swirled around her and mingled with the coppery tang of blood.

And yet, the silence pressed against her like a weight, the absence of her sisters ringing louder than any explosion.

She felt hollow, as though the very marrow in her bones had been sucked out, leaving her brittle and weak. Half her soul was gone. The realization clawed at her and created a raw, gaping wound in her chest. They were gone. Crestia, Limaria, Thraya, Hishta. Gone.

Celise’s knees hit the pavement, and the sharp impact jarred her back into the present. Her fingers curled around a shard of glass near her feet. Its jagged edge cut into her palm, and she welcomed the sting. She needed something—anything—to distract her from the unbearable emptiness inside her.

But then, the air shifted.

It was subtle at first, a faint ripple that sent a shiver down her spine.

And then it came—a wave of heat, oppressive and suffocating, followed by the unmistakable hum of dark magic.

Celise’s head snapped up, her dark eyes narrowing as the shadows around her seemed to come alive, coiling and twisting like serpents.

And then he appeared. She recognized him from the images the Nushtonia had projected into her mind.

The magic he wore like a second skin called to the magic in her.

Magic the book had given her. He was more terrifying than any conjured thought, and he was here for her.

She could see it in his insane gaze. Her sisters might not be the only ones to lose their lives today.

Celise’s jaw tightened as she stood. She wouldn’t go easily.

She’d worked too damn hard for everything she’d accomplished, and she’d continue on to honor her sisters’ memories.

She’d eventually join them, but it would be on her terms.

R aja emerged from the shadows of the ruined square as though the darkness itself had delivered him.

The air around him rippled with his presence, thickening with the oppressive weight of his magic.

He moved with the deliberate grace of a predator, his black tunic shimmering faintly, as though it had been spun from the night itself.

His crimson eyes gleamed with malice, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took in the scene before him.

The once-vibrant chaos of Times Square had been reduced to smoldering wreckage.

Flickering remnants of neon light cast jagged, ghostly shapes over the shattered glass and twisted metal.

The acrid stench of smoke mingled with the sharp tang of spilled blood.

Humans who had dared to linger stood frozen at the edges of the destruction, their terror palpable in the air.

And in the center of it all stood Celise.

Despite what Fane, the alpha, and his companions had thought, Raja was completely aware of who she was.

She’d been drawing power from him all along.

He’d felt her, heard her thoughts, saw into her mind and her black heart.

He’d seen her in his mind's eye, and at one time, she’d been powerful.

She’d learned to utilize his magic from the Nushtonia as if it was her very own.

She was a shadow of her former self, her shoulders hunched, her dark hair disheveled, and her hands trembling faintly at her sides.

Raja’s smirk widened as he saw the faint traces of exhaustion etched into her features.

She’d been powerful once, a force to be reckoned with.

Now, she was a hollowed-out shell of what she had been.

“Well, well,” Raja drawled. “Look at the awe-inspiring sprite, though not quite as … intact as I remember.” He let his eyes sweep over her, taking in every sign of weakness, every crack in her facade. “What’s the matter, Celise? Feeling a little … hollow?”

Her head snapped up, and she glared at him with a defiance that was more bravado than anything else. “What do you want, Raja?” she spat out, her words sharp, but her voice trembled just enough to betray her weariness.

Raja chuckled. “Oh, I think you know.” He stepped closer.

The flames of a nearby wreck flickered around them.

“It wasn’t hard to find you, not with the mess you’ve made.

Your magic—it’s like a beacon, calling to me.

You drew from me, from the Nushtonia , as if it was your right.

And now that I’m here…” He raised a hand, crimson sparks dancing at his fingertips. “I think I’ll take what’s left of you.”

He made a lazy motion with his hand, and a shimmering bubble of magic sprang up around them.

Its surface rippled like liquid glass, glowing faintly as it sealed them off from the outside world.

The humans beyond it froze, their faces a mixture of confusion and fear as they pressed against the invisible barrier.

Celise straightened, her jaw tight as she tried to steel herself. “You rulers, always so dramatic,” she muttered, though Raja could hear the edge of panic in her voice.

He smirked. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, Raja reached out with his magic. The connection was immediate, like sinking his claws into something alive and thrashing. Her power surged against his, wild and untamed but faint—so faint compared to what it had once been. He latched on, and the pull began.

The satisfaction from her magic flowing into him was almost intoxicating. She gasped, doubling over, her hands clutching at her chest as though she could physically hold herself together. The sound of her struggle was music to his ears.

“Stop!” she hissed, her voice raw and desperate. She tried to push back, to fight him, but it was a pathetic attempt.

“Why? You don’t need it anymore. Not when you’ve already lost everything.”