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Drazhan’s arrogance visibly crumbled with each failed attack, naked fear taking its place as I stalked him against a grimy brick wall. He had nowhere left to run. My fiery tendrils strained towards his bruised face, hungry to melt the skin from his hateful skull.
Roaring recklessly, I grasped Drazhan’s soul, prepared to shred his corrupted essence. But as my metaphysical claws pierced his spirit, I hesitated. Destroying his being utterly would not erase his vile deeds, only add my own monstrous acts to the scales.
Sensing my conflict, Drazhan struggled desperately. “Mercy, I beg you! PLEASE! No more!”
I held his wild stare with ice-cold eyes, staying my hand. “Did you orchestrate the fallen gargoyle and the snarevine’s attack to harm her?” I demanded.
Drazhan’s arrogant mask burned away, leaving only a quivering, tear-streaked boy in its ashes. “No! I swear it, I took no part in those evils!” he wept piteously.
I searched his ravaged face for any hint of deception, but found only raw fear and regret swirling in his eyes. This pathetic coward posed no true threat to me or my beloved. Obliterating his twisted existence would serve no purpose beyond base vengeance. And it would wound Seraphina’s gentle heart deeply.
Satisfied he spoke truthfully, I retracted my devastating power. Drazhan collapsed in whimpering disbelief at his deliverance. I towered over his ruined form, volcanic fury banked but smoldering still. I had passed judgment and found him undeserving of annihilation. But neither would I permit him to escape unfazed.
“You live because she wills it so,” I rumbled. “Now go, and pray our paths do not cross again.”
Around us, the hushed crowd bore solemn witness. Today they’d glimpsed our true souls laid bare—the bully’s festering vileness versus my ferocious protective devotion. None could doubt which held the nobler spirit.
Drazhan clawed his way upright, ragged, and humbled. As he fled the judgment in every eye, head bowed in shame, I allowed the wrath to finally drain from my frame. No more proof was needed.
The fiend fled into the rainy night, his lackey Cassius dragging him by the arm. “Monster!” he screamed back impotently, hurling hollow insults to the bitter end. I watched them retreat dispassionately before turning away. Justice had been served. None would dare threaten my Seraphina again after witnessing Drazhan’s humiliation.
The icy rain could not cool the smoldering coals of fury still emitting from my skin. Adrenaline and magic still churned a volatile cocktail in my blood.
Let the rabble spread wild tales; it mattered not. All would soon comprehend the extent of my wrath should they move against the girl I cherished above life itself. For her sake, I would gladly tear the world asunder, no matter how they feared and reviled me after. She alone saw the heart of the beast.
I drew a deep breath, centering myself once more. Seraphina would not approve of such wanton violence, however justified my anger had been. But I hoped she’d understand—I would lay the whole world to waste if it meant keeping her from harm.
Smoke still coiling from my shoulders, I resumed the lonely road back through darkened woods and across the moors. The rain had ceased, a few intrepid stars winking between shredded clouds. Soon, the comforting bulk of Blackthorn Castle emerged against the night sky.
I slipped through the shadowed halls to Seraphina’s chamber unnoticed. There she slept, unruffled and serene, her dreams untroubled by the violent currents churning the world outside. I envied her peace. But to ensure it continued, I would gladly walk through fire or blood.
Gently brushing a stray hair from her face, I kept silent vigil as she slumbered—my soul’s innocent angel.
CHAPTER14
Rhys
Late winter windhissed through bare branches outside my tower window. I stood looking out at the forest stretching towards the distant mountains, their peaks already capped with snow.
It had been several weeks since the Night of the Snarevine, as students now called it in awed whispers. Physically, Seraphina and I had long since healed. But that harrowing brush with death had bonded us more profoundly than any vows could.
In the aftermath, hiding our feelings seemed a pointless charade. Once it became clear we were officially together, reactions ranged from envious to mocking. We’d even earned a portmanteau nickname—theSerhys, combining our identities into one. I bore it proudly. Let them gossip and glare. Nothing could touch us now.
With me at her side, Drazhan’s bullying had instantly ceased. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to risk provoking my wrath a second time. And so a measure of peace had descended on my sweet witch, a lightness carrying through her days that lifted my own darkened spirits.
My thoughts turned to the upcoming meeting in Wellsprings. I was to audition for musical acts for the Starry Night Ball at The Painted Witch nightclub. Normally I would savor the chance to temporarily escape Blackthorn’s gloom. But today, with Seraphina’s absence weighing on me, the outing felt more chore than pleasure.
She had promised to join me, but her customary sweet note this morning apologized that urgent business in town would delay her. I knew better than to pry. But her secrecy left a trickle of unease in my gut. What was she hiding?
Sighing, I roused myself to departure. Standing idle only gave doubts room to spread thorns. After one last glance at the grey sky, I dissolved into wisps of black vapor, reforming at the gates beyond.
* * *
Wellspring’scobbled streets greeted me with familiar bustle, smoke pluming from cramped buildings against the frigid air. I blended easily into the crowds, making their way along Rainmaker’s Lane as the church bells tolled noon. Too soon, The Painted Witch’s garish sign emerged from the throng. With a fortifying breath, I plunged inside.
The gloom of the shuttered tavern oozed with stale ale and ambition. A handful of local bands warmed up on the cramped stage, jockeying for the prestige of performing at the fabled Blackthorn Castle. I settled at the bar, braced for a tedious procession of youthful mediocrity.
Two hackneyed power ballads, and a mangledmagepunkattempt later, my restraint hung by a thread. The next act swaggered onstage, sneering out at me through lank hair. My claws gouged furrows in the lacquered bar top before I could stop myself. So much for keeping an open mind.
