She should want him dead. After everything he’d done, to her grandmother, to Alessandro’s family, to countless other victims, death seemed like justice.
But Marina had never been a killer.
“Estelle,” she said. “We need Estelle.”
The ancient kitsune appeared as if summoned, picking her way across the clifftop with impossible dignity despite the storm. Dante and Bea flanked her, both battered but standing.
“The supernatural community has ways of dealing with demons who’ve broken the old laws,” Estelle said, studying Malachar’s broken form. “He’ll be tried. Judged. Punished appropriately.”
“Not killed?”
“That depends on the judgment. But the choice isn’t ours to make.” Estelle’s ancient eyes found Marina’s. “You’ve done your part. You broke the curse and weakened him enough to capture. Let others carry the burden from here.”
Marina looked at Alessandro. He had shifted back to human form, naked and exhausted, tears still wet on his cheeks. But he was waiting. Still waiting.
“Is this what you want?” she asked him.
“I want whatever you want.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.” He stepped toward her, close enough to touch but not touching. “I spent a decade wanting revenge on whatever caused this curse. I spent weeks wanting to kill Malachar specifically. But right now, looking at him like this, all I feel is tired.”
“Tired?”
“Tired of rage. Tired of control. Tired of carrying burdens alone.” He met her eyes. “What I want is to go home with you. To rebuild the bakery. To figure out what comes next. Malachar’s fate matters less to me than your opinion of his fate.”
Marina didn’t need the bond to know he meant it. She could see it in the set of his shoulders, the quiet in his eyes.
“Estelle,” she said. “Take him. Let the community judge.”
The kitsune nodded. Ancient magic wrapped around Malachar’s broken form, binding him more surely than anychains. The demon’s eyes found Marina’s as he was pulled away—hatred, mostly, but underneath it something that looked almost like relief. As if he’d been waiting two centuries for someone to finally stop him.
“This isn’t over,” he hissed.
“Yes,” Marina said calmly. “It is.”
Estelle’s magic flared, and Malachar vanished, transported to whatever prison awaited demons who had violated the old laws. Marina watched the empty space where he’d been, feeling two centuries of darkness finally lift.
It was done. Really, truly done.
“The curse is broken,” Estelle said, her ancient voice carrying easily over the fading storm. “The demon is captured. And tomorrow is the full moon.”
Tomorrow. When their accidental mating bond would either break or be chosen.
Bea stepped forward, pulling Marina into a fierce hug. “You were incredible. Terrifying, but incredible.”
“I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Neither did any of us.” Dante’s voice was rough with emotion. “That was… Marina, that was the most powerful selkie magic I’ve ever seen. Your grandmother would be proud.”
The words struck deep. Marina clutched her pelt tighter, feeling the warmth of it against her skin. Her grandmother had prepared this moment. Had hidden the recipe, had trusted that someday Marina would find it, would be strong enough to use it.
And she had been.
“Take me home,” she said.
He held out his hand.
