40
The nightmare you cannot escape
KADE
The air in the corridor bristles with latent energy, a tension so thick it clings to my skin like oil, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of its vile taint. Darius and I slip through another jagged opening, moving deeper into Malric’s stronghold. The place feels alive, ancient spells twisting in the stone walls like malevolent veins. My magic stirs, a restless flicker in my chest that sharpens with each step.
None of this feels good.
It doesn’t feel right.
I presume that’s the fucking point of the magic we’re working against.
Darius walks beside me, his expression grim, knife drawn and gleaming faintly in the dim light. His magic crackles in the air, jagged and raw, a reflection of his mood.
“Stay focused, Kade,” he warns, his voice low but firm. “Thisplace isn’t just an underground fortress. It’s a trap designed to kill us.”
“I’m counting on it,” I reply, a grin tugging at my lips.
My magic hums brighter, stronger, like a predator waking from slumber. Each ward we’ve broken, each step closer to Zara, has made me feel more alive, more powerful and whole. The thought I hold this much magic should trouble me, but it doesn’t. Not when I’m this close. Not when I’m this strong. Not when it’s this fucking intoxicating.
We round a corner, and another trap springs to life. The corridor transforms, stone walls rippling and twisting into a jagged maze. Spikes shoot up from the ground, forcing us to leap back. Runes flare to life, glowing sickly green, and a pulse of energy lashes out at us.
I throw up a shield of fire; the flames licking hungrily at the magic and devouring it. Beside me, Darius’s blade cleaves through a spike as it shoots toward him. The trap disperses and my brother stares at me, almost shell-shocked, as if he’s never seen anything even close to this.
“This is nothing,” I say, my confidence swelling.
The runes dim, their power broken under my will.
“It’s not nothing,” Darius snaps, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not stronger because you’re winning, Kade. You’re stronger and she’s losing.”
Fuck.
The magic flows between us, along the blood weave to where it’s needed most. It’s a delicate balance, and if I’m stronger, that’s because Zara’s letting me draw on her magic. She’s sacrificing herself to give me an edge, whether she knows it or not. The blood weave will take everything it needs from her and give it to me, and it’ll leave her exposed and vulnerable. Galen and Malric will hurt her and they’ll try to take advantage of any weakness they can find or make. And if they’ve harmed her, I’ll kill them. Both of them. Again and again and a-fucking-gain if necessary, until Zara found some sort of peace in our revenge.
“We’re getting her out of here.”
Darius says nothing, but his jaw tightens as he steps forward, the unspoken promise between us clear: no one walks away from this unscathed.
We press on, as the traps grow more vicious with every step. The floor crumbles beneath our feet, forcing us to leap to safety. Shadows lunge from the walls, snarling and clawing, but my magic burns them away. Each time, the fire in my veins burns hotter, stronger, as though it feeds on the challenge.
We keep moving, fighting back against spell after spell. The fucking corridor is a minefield of traps and wards, and our progress is faster than it should be, but not as quick as I’d like it. By the time we reach the final barrier, I’m practically vibrating with energy. The door before us is a slab of black stone, etched with runes that radiate malice. It’s a masterpiece of dark magic, designed to keep even the most determined intruders out.
It’s crafted by a warlock whose skill is beyond expert, and my former tutor has outdone himself when he put this in place.
I place my hand against the cold surface, and the runes writhe under my touch, resisting with a force that feels almost sentient. The dark magic embedded in the door pushes back, lashing at my senses with searing intensity.
I grit my teeth, forcing my magic forward. The air crackles as I focus, weaving my power against the barrier. The runes twist, digging into my consciousness like claws, throwing images of pain and failure into my mind. My breath hitches as the magic retaliates, sending sharp stabs of energy down my arm, but I don’t back down.
Malric’s magic thinks it can stop me, but I will not be held back. I will not be overcome. I am hell and its damnation, a thousand furies unleashed by the Gods themselves. I am the nightmare you cannot escape, the haunting that follows you to your grave. I am an act of retribution, so despicable few will speak its name, and I will bring all I am to bear for her.
In her name, and in her name alone.
My magic roars in response to the challenge, a searing torrentthat blazes through the barrier. The runes flare one last time, their defiance shattering as cracks splinter across the stone.
The resistance breaks in a violent crescendo, the door collapsing inward with a deafening crash. My arm feels like it’s on fire, my magic sparking erratically, but I don’t care. We’re one step closer to Zara, and that’s all that matters. It’s all that will ever matter, from now until my dying day. I’ve made my peace with that, and I pity anyone who stands between me and the object of my affection.
“Stop showing off,” Darius mutters. “We both know this is only because of that girl of yours. The one you ought to be focused on rescuing, instead of prancing around like a goddamn fucking peacock for.”
