Page 63

EVE

The light inside the church was all wrong—sharp and broken, like it wanted me to bleed. The stained glass was boarded up, casting irregular shards of color across scorched stone. I was dragged through the splintered doors, the daema’s grip ironclad beneath my arms.

When I finally managed to lift my head, dread surged like a blade to the gut.

Daema clung to the crumbling walls, their wings stretched unnaturally wide—veined and leathery, like giant moths caught mid-molt. Goblin-like creatures swarmed the pews, crawling over broken wood like slick insects.

Some didn’t even look remotely human.

Wolves the size of bears lingered among pews, while a stone-like creature with snakes for hair hissed as we passed.

My stomach lurched.

I couldn’t count them. I couldn’t even think of fighting them.

I thought of every time I’d stood my ground—every time I’d scraped victory from the edge of collapse—and how none of it had prepared me for this.

The panic wasn’t hollow anymore.

It was screaming.

I thought of them all—Orion, Xander, Ragnar… Even Atlas—desperate to hold onto something real.

But it was Orion’s voice I reached for first, the rough warmth of it like a lifeline in the dark.

Xander’s frown followed, etched with quiet worry, the way he always looked at me like he almost said more.

Did they even know where I was?

The fear of being left behind swallowed everything else.

Sam stopped in front of the altar—or what remained of it anyway. I stumbled, knees buckling, and the daema hauling me forward tightened their grip.

A hulking daema—more Minotaur than man—braced his shoulder to the stone and pushed.

An echoing rumble rolled through the church. Dust fell like ash. The altar tipped with a thunderous crack, fracturing the floor beneath it—and revealing a hidden door.

Another daema stepped up, curling claws into the stone. With a sickening screech, it was torn away, leaving a dark, gaping mouth in the floor. A narrow staircase spiraled downward, jagged and uneven, carved into the rock like it didn’t want to be there.

I didn’t want to go down there, but the daema shoved me forward. A cold draft rose from below, coiling around my legs like it meant to drag me under. I faltered—but the creatures holding me upright didn’t let me fall.

They just dragged me further into the darkness.

The stairs were uneven, my sneakers scraping across sharp edges as I was pulled down. The stone walls absorbed the flickering torchlight, blurring the lines between rock and shadow.

The air changed the second we reached the bottom. Thicker. Heavier. Damp.

It wasn’t just cold—it pressed against me. Like the crypt was alive and feeding off my fears.

I should’ve fought harder. Should’ve stopped them.

But I hadn’t stood a chance. Not really.

I didn’t realize we’d reached the end until I was yanked to a stop.

The chamber opened up—massive, vaulted, lost in shadow. In the center: a flat stone table. Empty.

But it was the far wall that held my eye.

The jagged slab of white stone jutted from the ground like a wound in the earth, slick with veins of dark crystal that pulsed faintly—slow, rhythmic, like a sleeping giant’s heartbeat.

Its surface was carved with countless symbols, no two the same, all shifting in a constant golden churn beneath the shimmer of the air.

The closer I looked, the more the rock seemed to breathe.

The magic around it warped the air itself, thickening it until it felt like I was underwater. My ears rang with a low hum, deep and primal, vibrating through my bones.

I couldn’t look away. My chest tightened, like invisible hands were pressing me toward it.

It wasn’t just fear.

It was recognition.

“Please,” I croaked, throat raw. “Please don’t do this.”

Sam’s smirk made my blood run cold.

“It’s not up to you.”

I dug my heels into the cracked stone floor, but it was useless. They barely registered my resistance. The kicks and elbows I landed might as well have been love taps.

The heat clawed at my throat, feeding the nausea curling low in my gut.

“No—” I twisted, but they barely slowed, dragging me toward what I knew was certain death.

“She doesn’t have to like it,” Sam said. “Just make her touch it.”

I was yanked harder, one of the daema lifted me clean off the ground and dragged me past the empty plinth, planting me in front of the wall.

I scanned the room, desperate for anything I could use. A rock. A shard. Something. Nothing. My magic thrummed again like a warning, but I shoved it down.

Maybe if I could shake the daema off, get around the plinth, then—

I bucked, shaking the daema loose just enough to give me a chance. I ran—or rather, I tried to. My body was wrecked—concussed, dazed. I barely made it a step before claws sank into my arm.

“You’re not going anywhere but through that portal,” Sam snarled. “You can’t stop this. So. Stop. Fucking. Resisting .”

He grabbed my wrist and locked his grip so tight I thought he’d snap the bone. His other hand twisted in my hair, wrenching my head around.

Then he slammed my palm against the stone.

The hum roared to life. A vibration that rattled through my skull, threatening to shatter me from the inside out. My skin blistered from the gateway’s heat. If not for Sam’s grip, I would’ve collapsed under the pressure building beneath my skin.

My body screamed.

Maybe it was my magic, too.

It beat against my rib cage, desperate to go home. It wanted me to open the gate, but I didn’t let it out. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter if we were barely coexisting—I couldn’t let them use it.

And beneath the desperation, I think it understood. It wasn’t helping, but it wasn’t fighting me either.

It was agony. But I held it.

“You stupid bitch!”

The daema’s hiss was my only warning before something hard slammed into my stomach. I was airborne for a breathless second before crashing into the plinth and collapsing to the ground.

I gasped, pain ripping through me. My ears rang. Every inhale sliced like a blade across my ribs.

I tried to move, but a fist cracked against my jaw, snapping my head back. Another blow hit my chest, and I felt the crunch of bone.

I curled into myself, the cold stone leaching through my dress. Kicks rained down, and I clenched my jaw as blood pooled in my mouth.

Copper and salt and fire.

The hits blurred together—pain blooming in waves, snapping, breaking, shattering.

I could hear laughing.

Screaming.

Maybe it was me.

Tears mixed with blood on the floor beneath my face.

My body was breaking, but still—I didn’t let the magic go.

“Stop!” Sam’s voice rang out. The assault ceased. “The blood, look!”

I couldn’t lift my head. Could barely breathe. The silence was a mercy I hadn’t earned. My mind drifted away from the pain to the names I clung to like a lifeline.

Orion. Xander. Ragnar. Atlas.

I chanted them like a prayer. A goodbye.

“It’s the spark—it just needs her blood!”

“We need her alive!”

“Says who?!”

“Let’s gut her!”

I was still conscious, but my body was locked. Trapped in this twisted nightmare, dressed in a stupid nurse costume, about to die in a crypt surrounded by monsters.

A broken laugh bubbled in my throat.

It was absurd.

It was worse than anything I could have imagined.

I whispered their names again. My magic stirred in response—quiet, comforting. The heat curled around me like an embrace. Not oppressive, but protective. It reminded me I wasn’t alone.

“Well?” Sam’s voice sliced through the laughter. “What are we waiting for?”

Footsteps circled me, and Sam crouched in front of me. I might have whimpered—if I’d had breath left in my lungs. His eyes held nothing. No mercy. No remorse. Just death.

“Your resistance is a waste of energy,” he said, voice calm despite the fury radiating off him. “We’re opening that portal—whether you live to see it or not.”

I spat out blood, the warm trail dripping down my cheek as I turned my head to meet Sam’s gaze.

Let him see the fire burning just out of reach.

Let him know he’d have to rip it from my cold, dead body.

“Do. Your. Worst.”