Page 60 of Unraveled (A Kingdom of Beasts and Ruins #1)

My concentration is the only thing stopping me from fading away. The sedative is strong, and time is blurry.

I blink my heavy lids and think of Morla’s words. Could it be true? Is Ash’s love actually killing me?

A dry laugh escapes my lips, because I know the answer to that question. My black hand, and how far the curse has advanced in the last day, show me I have little time left to help Ash and Nera. Which means I need to get out of here.

I grip one of my shackles and try to make my other hand as small as possible as I attempt to pull it off. The iron scrapes my skin, and the spell that clings to the rough texture of it zaps me.

But I don’t stop, even as I feel my energy—whatever little remains of it—dwindle further. These chains were poison to Ash. That has to be the reason he appeared so ill, and why Naheli was flickering even as she led me here.

To a normal hybrid like me, it stings, but it’s not life-threatening. What really hurts me is the spell woven into the metal. That the magic smells like Harper. Scared and unsure.

The sedative and the curse together quickly consume every ounce of energy I have left. I can’t free myself this way. And if I fall asleep, who’s to say if I’d ever wake up? The curse has extended up my neck, and I feel it creeping to my chin.

Dread sinks in, and I know I have to unlock my father’s spell in order to access my full power. It’s the only way I can get out of here in time.

I follow Ash’s teachings. My magic feels familiar and warm, in contrast to the curse’s dark and slimy texture.

I push the darkness aside and chase the threads of what belongs to me, locked away by my father years ago.

This time, it doesn’t take me long to find the blocking spell woven tightly over the center of my being.

Familiar but foreign.

I close my eyes and imagine what it would look like if I could see it, and I reach beneath the enchantment’s layers. My repressed memories seep through as soon as I tear through the membrane. They flood my mind, and his words flow as I unbind myself from him.

“This is for your own good,” my father said. “They don’t know who you are and it must remain that way.”

I can’t remember how I answered him. I pull another thread of his spell, and more of my magic streams through me. The curse gloats, consuming everything it can get its hands on, but I don’t let it distract me from my task.

“We didn’t want to do this, Mia. We wouldn’t have come here had we known the prophecy existed. You won’t remember it...”

They wouldn’t have come to Penumbra, a city full of hybrids and stolen grimoires.

“ . . . it will keep you safe.”

I pull away a few more strands of his spell, and a sob escapes me.

I won’t ever feel my father’s warmth again.

He’s been a part of me even after he was killed.

The pressure in my stomach increases along with the heavy throbbing inside my head.

The spell snaps, unleashing the rest of my memories of that afternoon with the force of a dam bursting open.

“I won’t remember what?” I challenged my father, barely speaking past the knot in my throat. But somehow, I knew he was going to take this memory away. Just like he intended to take my magic. “All the librarians have little magic. We have this order to protect the ? —?”

“That’s a lie, Mia. Your peers can wield power without amulets, and certainly without grimoires sharing whatever little power they may have from the king,” my father scoffed. “Your power isn’t like theirs, and when they find out what you are, they will kill you.”

“Who will kill me?” I hated how afraid I sounded. My father’s words sank deeper, and I looked at him, shocked and uncertain. “What am I?”

“You’re the one who will destroy the curse keeping the fae away from this place.

” He swallowed deeply. His magic tightened around me, and my power dulled.

Everything in my body, except for my head, was paralyzed on this chair.

He continued, “And the strixes will kill you. They’ve infiltrated the librarians, and the scientist quarters.

It’s dangerous for you to be so close to them.

We didn’t know you’d be drafted into this role or we would’ve left. ”

I sobbed loudly, hoping Irene would come in and stop him from doing this to me. “If I’m unable to access my magic, I won’t be able to do anything in the library, including defend myself.”

“You’ll have your mother’s amulet. It’ll allow you to access your power to protect yourself in an emergency, but more importantly, it’ll make them believe you’re a sorcerer, not a hybrid.”

“How do you know what they’ll do to me?”

“Because I’m a member of the strix, and if you weren’t my daughter, I would be forced to kill you.”

My eyes widened as I stared at him, seeing him for the first time. Ice crawled over my skin, and my power dulled further. The man in front of me wasn’t the warm and caring person I thought he was. Not even a scientist working to protect the people of Penumbra from the Hunt.

I didn’t know what he meant by hybrid or strix, but I knew he was a man capable of murdering an innocent for some reason. And no matter what that reason was, it wasn’t good enough for me.

I glared at him as he finished the spell, and his magic wrapped over my own, dulling it so much I could barely feel it. “I don’t know what the strixes are, Papa, and I don’t know of the supposed prophecy...”

He seems conflicted as a spell swirled around his hand. The wisps of white reached for my head. I pushed against the chair’s backrest, and the legs scraped on the floor as I watched the approaching enchantment with horror.

Even with my power nearly gone, I could feel the spell’s intent. It wanted me to forget this ever happened.

“You know what I’m doing, don’t you? You understand what this spell is going to do?

” His expression turned to one of regret.

“This is why I must do this, pumpkin. You’re a sunderer.

Someone who possesses the gift of understanding and unraveling any spell.

The prophecy speaks of a hybrid who can unmake the curse, and your mother and I believe that’s you. ”

The spell wrapped around my head, and my thoughts blurred.

My father pulled a note from his trouser pocket and slammed it on the table in front of me.

“Mia, you’ve unmade spells crafted by your mother in this house without knowing it.

You speak of magical things like they have emotions.

You are a sunderer of sorcery, and the strix will kill you first and ask questions later. ”

The green ink of my mother’s sprawling calligraphy stood out against yellow parchment, and as I read on, something sank deep within me.

Black feathers will rain from the sky, leaving pools of poisoned ink over the land. From the darkness, a beast will appear, with sharp teeth and magic that brings death to us all.

The curse of mirrors will ravage the land for forty blood moons and at last,

A hybrid bound to the Fae King, will rise as fate demands.

Brought by destiny to break the chains that hold his realm in thrall,

The Sunderer shall bring death to those who caused his fall.

And death will be her constant friend, by shadowed hand and breath

As she walks beside him, through the dark, unyielding path.

I met my father’s dark gaze, He turned away, grabbing the prophecy and tossing the parchment into the flames of the woodstove by our side.

My vision narrowed and nausea grew within me.

I remember waking in the middle of the night, calling for mother while those words spilled from my mouth.

“She always told me it was a dream,” I said. Yet her face always turned ashen.

My father’s spell blurred my thoughts a little more.

“Your mother risks facing the gods’ ire if she doesn’t record the prophecy.

She’s heard it from you time and time again and we can’t simply ignore it anymore.

She must leave soon, and take it to the ministers of sorcery.

The house of strix will find out soon enough you exist, they have people everywhere. ”

“It was just a dream.”

“No, Pumpkin. Your power is too unique to be a coincidence.”

“I’m not a soothsayer.”

I was angry... But I couldn’t remember why.

My father looked at me as he sat and reached for his cup of coffee, giving me a trembling smile.

“

You’re not, but he is.”

Sad . . . Though I didn’t understand why.

“Papa?” I blinked, turning around to take in the kitchen table. I was so cold, even though the warm summer air wrapped around me.

“Mia, are you paying attention, or are you daydreaming again?” He frowned at me as I looked down at my cold breakfast and my half-empty cup of black coffee.

“Sorry—I’m here,” I said, and I tried to ignore the headache. And the weird emptiness in my chest. “What were you saying?”

“Never look a fae in the eyes, Mia,” my father whispered. “They’ll see it as a challenge and will never let you go. It will mean your death.”

I gasp for air. The muddy ground spins around me. My entire body shakes as I try to clean tears from my face.

My parents were always strixes. They feared for my life and hid me in plain sight. My mother disappeared right after. I wonder if they were intending to escape together at some point.

Did he know Ash would eventually come for me, because we were mates? I was always dreaming of his broken prophecies.

Magic flows through my body, warming my cold limbs, undeterred by the curse. Even the remnants of the sedative evaporates. White light flashes from my fingertips, and the lock of the shackles snaps off as I wield the unraveling spell so easily, it’s like breathing.

I lift my hand toward the cell’s door and wield another. So much power courses through me, the curse can’t consume all of it. The darkness on my skin recedes—just a little—as the gate twists and opens with a squeak.

I walk out of my cell enveloped in a ball of light, with death—my curse and companion—trailing closely behind.