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ORION

The ground thundered under my feet, but it wasn’t fast enough. Not with her inside. Not when every second felt like something being torn out of me.

I heard Xander’s footsteps behind me, but I didn’t slow. Every part of me itched to tear that church apart. I clenched my fists. It didn’t help.

Eve was in there. I had to get her out.

“Orion—”

Xander grabbed my arm just before I hit the graveyard gate. “I need you to listen to me.”

I ground my teeth. “Xander,” I said slowly. “If you don’t get your hand off me right now, I’ll snap those frozen fingers off and shove them down your throat.”

“Holy Gods,” his eyes widened. “This is what I was trying to tell you. If you lose control now—you’ll lose her.”

Heat surged through me. I shook him off. He looked at me like a disappointed professor, trying too hard to keep his shit together.

“Control? Sure. I’ll keep that in mind while you stand around twiddling your thumbs.”

I didn’t wait for a reply.

The graveyard was overgrown and crumbling, lit only by the glow bleeding from the church ahead. Headstones jutted out of the grass like broken teeth. Shadows moved inside the rubble. I didn’t care. I moved fast, aiming for the back entrance. Xander followed, silent on my heels.

Letting the magic in was a relief. Like unzipping my skin. Like surfacing after drowning.

My soul tore loose, the world falling away as I stepped into the astral plane. Everything hit sharper here. The stink of magic—rotten, sweet, wrong—sank into my lungs. My Spirit flared violently as it reformed, the shift nearly painful as my power rushed to accelerate the transition.

I was always stronger like this. More than flesh. But the roar in my veins was blinding.

I opened my eyes, standing beside my physical body—invisible unless I wanted to be seen. Usually, I could keep a tether on my physical body—but right now, my power was all in. Xander led my shell towards the shadows, but I barely noticed.

Every atom screamed at me to find her.

I walked straight through the doors.

The scent hit first—sulfur, blood, smoke. Like hell exhaled. Bonfires flickered in the hollowed pews. Scorch marks still stained the floor from our last visit, but that hadn’t stopped the daema from nesting here like vermin.

Dozens of them. Hanging from the rafters. Lurking in the dark. Hissing low, as if waiting.

That’s what made it worse. The silence.

I’d breached daema nests before. Never had one been this subdued. This still.

It wasn’t right.

I pushed the unease aside. My magic pulled me forward, urgent and wild. I swept through the back rooms. Nothing. No sign of her. In under a minute, I’d searched every inch of the place.

She wasn’t here.

But I knew she was.

My Spirit ached with the knowledge. A steady, hollow pulse behind my eyes urged me to look harder. Her magic was here, fractured and fading.

And with every step, I felt her slipping further away.

“ Well, ” I said to Atlas. “ You were right about the safe houses. Every fucking creature under the sun is here. ”

“ Will you fucking hurry up? ” Ragnar snapped.

“ By all means, do my job for me. Oh, wait—you can’t. ”

Atlas’s voice boomed, always louder than necessary. “ Orion. What are we walking into? “

I scanned the room, trying to rein in the fury curling around my ribs. “ At least three dozen low-level daema. A handful of harpies. Two bulls. Sounds like some fenrir, too. ”

Still no sign of her.

I didn’t say that part.

Then—I saw it. The altar. A dark smear pooled at the base. Scrape marks scored the stone like something had been dragged.

I moved forward, steps silent.

Blood. Fresh. Still warm. Dripping in slow, steady trails.

It was hers.

My vision stuttered. Heat seared through my chest, blistering, relentless. The fire she’d lit inside me burned like wildfire.

I’d level this church before I’d let them take her.

“ Clear the way for Xander. We’re coming in. ”

Clear the way?

Sure. I’d clear it with their fucking skulls.

But first, I let that feeling settle. Let it consume me. The blood. The silence. The daema were watching, waiting like they knew.

They weren’t scared enough.

My lips curled. My hands opened wide, flexing, ready to tear. I exhaled slowly, feeding the rage into something sharper. Cold. Precise.

The doors exploded.

Ragnar hit first—his molten fist tearing straight through a daema’s chest. Atlas followed, slower but devastating, storms crackling around him as he swallowed the room in black.

Xander would be inside by now. But I couldn’t wait.

“ Stick to the plan. Don’t lose control. “

“ Oh, brother, ” I whispered back, a smirk curling my invisible lips. “ Who said I was ever in control?”

I saw eyes widen just as I dropped through the floor.

Let them hesitate. I was done waiting.

I was getting my girl back.