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She also had to deal with the fact that she couldn’t just let the rods of the cage drop, as the noise they would make would alert Barros. So she’d created a bed of sheets to cushion their fall. As touching them to prevent them from falling nulled her as well.

She needed to remove only two more bars to have enough space to squeeze through, but she wasn’t sure she could get out in time to save the woman.

“Don’t you dare die.” Rowan kept her voice calm and low.

“It wasn’t so bad. This little life of mine.” The witch’s voice was barely discernible. “I think I’m ready.”

Rowan growled. She willed the fire to burn hotter.

“The only thing I regret is never having a child.” She laughed, “By my age, my grandmother had half a dozen.”

“How many would you have wanted?” Rowan only had one more bar to go. She could keep the witch talking while she worked, she could get to her in time.

“Just one. To think the Young line will end with…”

Rowan didn’t look over. She couldn’t risk shouting to wake the unconscious woman. She was sure Barros would come, and she just needed one more joint.

With a soft pop, her freedom was at hand, her heart thumped hard against her chest as she gently placed the bar down next to the others before squeezing through the opening.

She winced when the magic the nulling spell had held at bay crashed into her, cramming her full of power in mere seconds. She used the magic to conjure two lock picks.

It wasn’t her strongest skill, and under the pressure of Cherry’s oncoming death, Rowan’s nerves were so frayed that she slipped several times.

Axel’s voice flitted through her head. “One thing at a time. Don’t worry about the future, just focus on the thing in front of you, then worry about the next step.”

A steady breath later, the lock gave way.

She swung the door open and ran to the woman.

The magic that she had just accumulated fled her blood, and she had to deal with it, slamming back in once she left that null cage as well.

Dragging Cherry as gently as she could manage while time was against her was rough.

She didn’t have Louisa’s or Axel’s superstrength and the unconscious witch weighed more than she had imagined.

The noise she was causing should have gotten their captor’s attention.

As if summoning him through mere thought, she heard the door slam open behind her. But he was too late. Cherry’s legs cleared the cage threshold, and she phased without a second thought.

Before her, the world reassembled into the hospital wing of the Eastern Elven Kingdom. A woman with hair streaked with all the colors of the rainbow screamed and dropped the papers she had been carrying as she had just tried to pass Rowan.

“Please help her, Miasma.” was all Rowan said before she phased back to the room, facing down the blonde-haired man whose eyes widened at her reappearance.

Rowan snarled as she removed all the mental gates that held her magic at bay.

She knew a threat when she smelled it and the witch was indeed powerful enough to claim the position of Elder.

Magic that had already been pouring itself into her veins flew like a torrent through her so hard she could feel gashes on her skin open up.

The roots from the trees outside of the window shattered glass and broke through the concrete walls at her call. They began wrapping around him, but he summoned a fire shield that burned everything to a crisp.

Taking a deep breath, Rowan commanded the oxygen in the room to leave. His flames died, and the branches wrapped around his neck. Antoni easily snapped the restraints, and he backed up into the hallway, gasping for air as soon as he left her oxygen deprived domain.

She followed with her momentum, allowing the roots of the trees to pass through the foundation of the house up through the floorboards to tangle around his arms and legs, reinforced with layers of branches.

Again he tore them away as if they were nothing more than strips of paper and he launched at her, his clenched fist landing in her solar plexus that both sent the breath out of her and her body flying backwards through the crumbled wall.

She tumbled to her feet and dodged a punch to her face that made her eardrum throb with its force.

He was fast. And strong. He had held back when he attacked Cherry.

Rowan grimaced when he landed a kick to her side, but she used the opportunity to grab his leg and throw him off balance with a push off the floor.

As he landed, she climbed over him and grabbed his head.

He stared up at her bewildered and full of so much lust she felt the succubus in her rear its head. It had reached its limit.

Against her wishes, the being took the reins.

She leaned down and met his lips. It might have been a sensual kiss had it not been that when she pulled back, she pulled the threads of his life energy.

She slowly inhaled the foreign feeling, and finally, after days of being unsuccessful at filling her hunger, she grew stronger.

She could feel her wounds healing, even those caused by the magic she thought would put her out of commission for a day at least. Yes.

She wanted this life force, wanted the pain to ebb.

She sucked and sucked, watching as he grew pale and she got stronger.

But she couldn’t kill him. The still sane part screamed when the end of his life force was visible in red thread.

Despite her anger and vow to kill him, she knew deep inside he needed to live to face the consequences of his actions.

It also did something to the man because he jerked so hard he pushed her off.

The back of her head bounced off the tree she landed against and her vision blurred as he towered over her and he reached a hand down so quickly she couldn’t stop him.

She saw too late that he was carrying a blade.

As it sunk into her eye, she screamed. This wasn’t her first stabbing.

But she had never experienced the hot white pain that assaulted her.

Something dark was festering from the wound, a twisted form of magic that wanted to consume her.

Panic rose in her throat before the vision of Dew’s body in Kin’s hands slammed into her mind. She needed to be calm to avenge her friend.

Gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath as Antoni pulled his arm back to stab her again, she raised her own. The blinding light of the sword was enough to make him pause. She swung, aiming for his neck, blind with pain and rage. But he phased a few feet away.

He looked too sane to be Cursed, but perhaps that's how they all appeared before the object took them over. She'd only ever seen a Cursed when they were ready to move one, at the end of their lives.

No killing. She had to remind herself. She needed him alive. Past experience had taught her that if she didn't get a killing blow in the Cleansing wouldn't take hold. Her good eye locked on her target, and using his idea, she phased.

“What Cursed object do you carry, Barros? Is it behind the shifter attacks? Or is that your personal goal?”

“I am in control!” He hissed from behind her. “This is my vengeance.”

She swung, but he was gone.

Dashing through the space of the forest behind the wrecked house, they phased around each other, slashing empty air with their weapons, until Rowan noticed his favoritism towards his right side.

Had it not been for the many hours on the mat with Axel repeatedly criticizing her own favoritism for her right, she might have missed it, but again her sister’s voice demanded she pay attention.

Plan in mind, she stopped phasing and caught another stinging blow from the blade with her left hand, the one she’d spent hours channeling magic through. With her right, she swung her sword from below his left armpit, taking him by surprise with the unconventional move.

“This is mine.” She hissed.

She expected to feel resistance when she reached bone, but the sword sliced through with little more sound than metal biting air. Had her hatred for the man sharpened her sword?

His blood was warm on her arms and face even as he phased once more. She was faster though, and when she appeared before him. She took aim for his leg, only to pull back when she noticed that almost all the color had drained from his face.

She stayed her hand as he swayed forward and backwards until he fell face first in front of her, then disintegrated into dirt.

Fury tore through her at the realization. That last phase had been so slow because he’d sent a replacement in his stead.

She searched for any sign that he was still there, but his existence was long gone.

In her mind, she could once again hear Dew’s last breath and nausea roiled through her.

She had failed to avenge her friend.

Frustrated, she bellowed and the magic she had gathered to fight the coward exploded from her like a sonic boom.

Around her, the trees shook with the force.

The earth quaked. The pain that her adrenaline had staved off from taking all those hits, the wound of her eye, and the overuse of magic all slammed into her, bringing her to her knees.

Fighting to catch her breath, she allowed herself to feel for the fairy who liked to bring her too many doughnuts and coffee topped by creative foam art.

She didn’t have enough magic to phase. She barely had enough strength to turn her head when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

His arm had remained a few yards away and hope blossomed in her. He had done his little trick after she’d taken it. If she could survive long enough to recuperate some magic, she had a way to track the bastard.

Then she felt it. A familiar signature that made relief pump through her.

She looked up to the swirling rainbow eyes of the Dragon King and a collection of multi-colored dragons flying behind him, all staring down at her. She focused on him as she lifted her arms.