6
To keep her or kill her
KADE
Fuck.
Fuck, shit, piss, and wank.
My head’s about to explode and my ears ring with whatever the hell that bitch just did.
The ground beneath me is jagged and unsteady, and when I try to push myself up, the world tilts hard to the left. Pain lances through my ribs and across my shoulders. I bite down on a groan as my palms press into the dirt—no, not dirt. It’s glassy and hot, molten in places, like the earth itself decided to give up and melt.
I blink, trying to focus, but my vision swims with the aftershocks of whatever the hell that was. That massive pulse of magic that came out of nowhere, swallowing everything.
Zara.
A growl rises in my throat as the pieces startsnapping together. She did this. She’s the reason my head feels like it’s been cracked in half and my magic—fuck—my magic isn’t right. It’s too quiet, like a limb that should be there but isn’t, and then it surges forward, an uncomfortable sensation I’d rather not know.
I slam a fist into the ground to steady myself. Pain shoots up my arm, but I welcome it, sharp and grounding. I force myself to breathe, to take stock of the surrounding destruction.
The trees are gone. Blackened stumps and charred trunks remain where an ancient forest once stood tall and proud. The air smells like burnt ozone and earth, and every breath feels like inhaling broken glass. The ground stretches out in jagged, cracked waves, charred black and glowing red in places. The sky looks wrong too, hazy and bruised, like the magic tore through it just as much as it tore through me.
The ringing in my ears starts to dull, replaced by the unsettling silence of a dead forest. No wind. No birds. Just the faint crackle of heat and destruction. Just the devastating emptiness she’s left in her wake.
I push myself up to my knees, panting through the ache in my ribs. My hands shake as I drag them through my hair, which is sticky with blood. It’s mine and I stare at its crimson on my fingers, surprised I still bleed red. No one’s drawn blood from me in a century or two, and now an insignificant, pathetic witch has broken my winning streak.
“Fucking brilliant,” I snarl, spitting onto the scorched earth. My voice sounds raw, shredded from either the blast or my own screaming, and I can’t remember which. Fuck, I should. Fuck, this is bad.
And then it hits me.
Zara.
She’s fucking powerful and I’m reminded why thewitches were siphoning her power. I’ll bet she hadn’t even realized that the rest of her coven was using her, and now I need to find her, to stop her, and make damn sure no one else takes her power.
The growl turns into a snarl as I stagger to my feet, legs wobbling under me like a newborn fawn. The world spins, but I force myself to stay upright. My magic flares instinctively, searching for something to hold on to, something familiar to anchor me. I grasp for it and I can’t find it, no matter how hard I reach for it.
It’s not there.
Not like it should be.
The steady hum of my power is fractured, flickering like a candle about to go out. Every attempt to call on it feels like grabbing shards of glass, sharp and painful, but no less empty. An unenviable burst of panic claws at me and I pull my shit together, despite the horror of this situation. I’ve faced death before, stood against monsters and demons, but this—this—is worse. I’ve never been without my magic. It’s who I am. It’s mine.
“What the fuck have you done?” I mutter under my breath, the anger in my chest burning hotter as I think of the witch who’s cursed me. I take a step forward and nearly collapse again, but I grit my teeth, refusing to give her an easy victory. One foot in front of the other, one foot at a time. Every step is a battle, every breath a reminder of how far I’ve fallen and what she’s reduced me to in a few short minutes.
Or maybe it’s been hours.
I look around, trying to find some sense of time, but there’s nothing. The devastation stretches out endlessly, the landscape unrecognizable. There’s only death and destruction, only the aftermath of her chaos. This is everything we sought to avoid; it’s why we control the witches and their power. Thisis unimaginable and horrific, a destruction of nature itself.
All caused by one witch.
I need to find her. I need to stop her.
And the faint tug in my chest pulls me, like a fine silk thread that’s stronger than you ever imagined it could be. My magic stirs in response, latching onto the sensation like a drowning man grasping at the rope thrown to save him.
I’ve never felt magic like this, but it’s the only thing I’ve got. My power’s never reacted like this, but at least it’s doing something. It’s better than nothing and I relax as the familiar feeling of it spreading through me soothes my soul. I sigh, relieved my magic is returning, although the shock of knowing she’s stunned it lingers like a foul smell.
Heat burns through the soles of my boots as I clamber over the smouldering wreckage, but I don’t stop. I force myself to keep going, refusing to let my legs buckle. I’ve got no choice but to press on and pull myself together.
