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He’d split himself into two bodies and stayed within phasing distance of both Axel and Rowan, keeping more deadly attacks from touching them like a living shield.

Lucifer locked onto the wooden sliver before Alessandro did, and he reflected it into the Dragon King’s grip with a phase.

Triumphant, Alessandro released a small sonic boom, sending the bodies surrounding him flying at least ten feet back.

The sliver of wood, so small it could be called a splinter, burned against his fingers.

The dark energy of the curse tried to crawl into his pores, yet, despite that he was mostly just a dragon, he was also a candidate for godhood.

It had no way to overtake his own impenetrable will.

His people had given him the power to overwhelm the curse of one powerful but very broken archangel.

He collected every atom that had the magic signature of the staff into his hand, reforming the weapon to its full, worn and beaten length before coating it completely in the most formidable encasing of deep ice he’d ever performed.

“ Pleaseeee.” The sentience it had was disturbing. It tried to appeal to some morsel of mercy in the Dragon King, but in protecting Rowan Dahl, he had no mercy to give.

The parting of the staff from Antoni Barros had him entirely reformed on the ground in front of Alessandro. His cries were blood curdling.

This was the fate of those who didn’t make it to a Blessed before the dark magic finally ate up everything the wielder offered. The body wouldn’t fully disappear, but shrivel up in a state of consciousness suffocated by pain long after their vocal chords withered.

Around Alessandro, the Black Cove citizens were snapping out of the illusion.

Shifters and those who had come to their aid began dropping their attacks and calling out for medical attention for victims on both sides of the struggle.

Horror colored the faces of those overtaken.

Alessandro could tell the moment they all pinpointed the source of their confusion. The witch whose cries were as revolting as the state of his body.

He could leave the witch to eternal damnation. The staff wouldn’t release its hold on him until it found a new wielder. As things stood, Alessandro would never allow that to happen as long as he breathed.

It would be a fitting punishment for the suffering creature after everything the witch had put his people through, of what damage he’d inflicted on his mate.

But it wasn’t the most effective solution available.

There was one more option, one that would help shifter kind all over the world, not just the ones in Draconis.

XOXOXO

“Rowan, I need you.”

His plea was soft in Rowan’s mind.

Rowan, who’d been helping an elderly Asian man to his feet, turned to find Alessandro’s eyes settled on her.

Baby blue? She needed to get to work on a decoder for those emotions.

“ Cleanse him.”

Rowan felt her back straighten and her nose flare.

Cleanse him?

He who had taken her friend from her?

How had he even survived that takeover?

Even from the distance she stood at she could hear his cries of pain. Bloodcurdling. Devastating.

“Kin?” She called, seeking him out amongst the bodies.

From near Alessandro’s yard, she saw the fox peek his head up.

“I need a distraction and a face change.”

The kitsune huffed, his attitude so clear even from so far that Rowan couldn’t help but to smile.

“I can handle the distraction.” Louisa’s voice came in. “ The vampires are ready to head to a more appropriate feeding ground.”

“Say when.” Kin’s voice was steady.

In a slight moment of hesitation, Rowan considered phasing away. Alessandro had never intended to have her in the battle. But this was bigger than their personal issues. “Now.”

The vampires Louisa had corralled and set straight erupted from a market street alley. The noise they made was a thundering screech as they scattered like roaches in different directions in the sky.

Eyes shifted to the potential new threat. Kin’s magic slid over her face and even her clothes.

Always two steps ahead, he made sure she was completely unrecognizable as Alessandro phased her to join him.

He didn’t meet her eyes, and she thought she could understand that it might give the charade up if he stared at this supposed stranger with the glowing silver she ignited.

Her eyes snagged on the wooden rod that was contained in a spell of deep ice. Dark curse energy oozed from it. Was this the weapon that had caused all this damage? Could she still cleanse someone who no longer had a cursed object in their possession?

Alessandro seemed to think so.

Taking a step back, lest their nearness gave any hint about her identity, she extended her hand.

The sword of light allowed her to see the genuine horror of what Antoni Barros had become.

His gorgeous blonde locks were patches on a head so swollen she was unsure where any of his facial features had once been.

His skin, sliced deep, made him look like the world’s most grotesque blooming onion.

The smell alone was almost enough to discourage her from approaching.

But she did, and her hand shook as in the air a familiar laugh she knew she would never have the pleasure of hearing again tinkled.

Thanks to this creature.

Her sword flickered, and she had to turn away to collect herself.

Her eyes snagged on a woman perched on a rooftop, tomahawk thrown over her shoulder, white curly hair shining in the moonlight. She had seen through the disguise and her blue eyes twinkled with a message Rowan didn’t need to be telepathic to hear.

Could she live with walking away?

Barros’ scream rocked something in her, something so central to her core that she knew that answer almost immediately.

No. She couldn’t leave anyone to this fate.

At her side, her sword flared to a near blinding brightness as she recalled the beaming smile on Dew’s face each morning she would greet her. She let her love for the fairy fill her and guide her mercy.

In one fluid move, she sliced through where she thought Barros’ heart had once been.

As soon as her sword passed through, she felt the necklace around her wrist loosen. Her eyes traveled down to watch as it corroded, as if years were taking their claim to the material.

She braced herself for the pain she’d felt in Alessandro’s cave, but all that came was a gentle heat. It traveled from where her hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword and it crawled up through her chest.

A foreign, yet all too familiar trace of magic reached from behind her.

Her gaze shifted to the staff in Alessandro’s grasp.

A shadow of a body stood next to it, warm, inviting and were those angel wings?

Time had come to a halt around her. Barros’ screams were silent. Several witnesses were in mid-step and Alessandro hadn’t moved his gaze from the form of Barros to her.

Her free hand unsheathed Whisper, and she pointed it at the figure.

“Who are you?” She demanded.

The shadow stepped forward into the light of her sword. A ghostly smile stretched on a face that she’d seen in Barros’ basement.

“There’s no time, little one. Claim the staff before he breaks it.” The voice was barely more than a passing breeze.

Rowan narrowed her eyes. “Why should I?”

“No time.” The words continued even after the shadow disappeared and time rolled forward.

Her attention attached itself to the staff. The deep ice spell was deteriorating, but she could also see hairline fractures on the wood of the weapon. Was it simply a race to see which would fail first? What would happen if it was the ice that was lost?

She had nothing to prove she could trust the ghostly figure. She didn’t even recognize it, but something about it had felt familiar. More compelling than that, it made her feel safe.

Gathering her courage, she reached out and broke Alessandro’s spell. Panic widened his eyes as she took hold of the oddly warm weapon.

“Trust me.” She squeezed her fingers around his.

He looked like he wanted to reject her request, but he grit his teeth and released his grip.

It made up for his decision to send her away by the smallest degree.

The darkness of the curse shot up her arm, but Rowan instinctively knew what she had to do as soon as her magic brushed against energy.

She reached out towards where specks of the ghost had remained even after the power faded out and engaged her succubus like she had when she tried to suck Barros’ life force out.

She took in the scraps of energy. As she did, she could feel the gates of all of her chakra points become as flexible as rubber.

For the first time since she woke up in Draconis’ medical ward, she felt whole.

She could finally see why the energy had been so familiar. It had been her own. At least partially. There had been something foreign inside her for so long she hadn’t known how to differentiate it until that moment.

The sound of soft laughter rolled through her head as the ghost emerged beside her, hands also on the staff.

“You’re doing it!” The voice cheered. “ Just keep holding on!”

Rowan didn’t have time for questions. The darkness crawled further and further up her arms, down her legs, covering her until only her eyes remained unveiled.

“Uzziel?” The unexpected sound of her godfather’s voice stole Rowan’s attention.

It cost her.

Darkness enshrouded her.

The sound of the battlefield died away.

The scent of the blood and sweat neutralized to nothing.

She was slowly turning into nothing.

She felt the tendrils of fear entwine their way into her soul.

She wanted to curl up into a ball as visions of where the staff had been and what people had done with its power crept in, trying to eat away her own memories.

A vision of a woman sobbing for mercy and being sliced apart by a faceless body burned away the memory of the moment her father had first extended his hand with a plate full of cake and a pouch of juice.