I look back at her over my shoulder with a grin. “No. I’m going to save my man.”
And I mean it.
20
Aaron
The shield is the only thing keeping me alive. Blue light domes over my body, thin and flickering. It absorbs spell after spell while I lie on my back and stare up at the night sky through it. My magic is guttering. I can feel it pulling from somewhere deep, dragging itself back together like it’s doing me a favor it doesn’t owe me. Every hit against the shield tells me I don’t have long.
Eric is already gone. My power running through his veins. And every warlock pouring out of that door is here because I let him in.
Another spell slams into the shield and the blue light fractures at the edges. I shove everything I have left into it. The shield steadies, but barely.
I force myself to sit up inside the dome. My arms are shaking. Blood is drying on my face from where Eric kicked me. The Market is destroyed around me—stalls overturned, something burning near the fruit vendor’s cart. The cottage door is blown apart with timbers scattered across the square. I can see more figures moving in the darkness on the other side.
I get to my feet. My legs almost buckle but I lock my knees and push the shield outward. It expands in a pulse of blue light and the warlocks scatter, buying me a little room. I drop the dome and switch to offense, throwing blasts at anything that moves. I’m not at full power.
Three witches and a warlock regroup in front of me. Their magic crackles in the air, violet and gold, and I throw up a shield with one hand and fire with the other. The shield absorbs their hits while my blasts push them back. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
A wolf’s roar rips through the night and Torin bursts from the tree line. His claws are out, teeth sharp, and he tackles the nearest warlock from behind. The warlock’s head hits the ground with a crack.
The second warlock spins toward him. He raises his hands and a spell starts forming on his lips but Torin is faster. His claws tear through the warlock’s throat before the magic can take shape and the body drops.
I should be relieved. But my stomach is still turning because Torin has Nala, Kael, and Aria waiting for him somewhere in this Academy, and if something happens to him here tonight it’s on me.
A witch with burning eyes turns on Torin. Fire gathers in her palm, bright and growing, and Torin realizes he’s not going to be able to dodge it. I throw my shield across the space. The fireball slams into the barrier inches from his face and the heat of it pushes through even with my magic holding. I flick my wrist and redirect it back at her. Her own fire swallows her in a flash of light and she’s gone.
“Thanks,” Torin gasps, nodding at me.
I don’t have time to respond. The air crackles in the center of the Market and three figures appear at once. My mother, Jacob, and King Amir. The teleportation magic from my mother andAmir pops like static and then they’re standing in the middle of the destruction.
My mother finds me first. Her hands are already glowing, her expression hard. I know that look. She’s reading the scene. It’s only a matter of time before she figures out her son is the reason the seal is broken.
Amir steps forward with a face so cold I’ve only seen it once before, and every muscle in me goes still at the memory. He raises one hand, fingers poised, and snaps once.
The sound is unnervingly loud, cutting through the smoke and the crackle of dying magic. The remaining witches and warlocks collapse in on themselves. Their bodies fold inward and disintegrate into fine dust that scatters across the Market square. One moment they’re standing. The next they’re nothing.
I stare at the space where they were.
“I told you this would only hold them for so long,” Amir says to my mother. His voice is eerily calm. “We are going to have to do something about the Witching Glen, otherwise we are going to end up in two wars. Wars against the humans and wars against the witches.”
“Another Great War,” Jacob mutters.
My mother turns toward the shattered cottage, her hands glowing. She mutters an incantation and her power flows out of her, wrapping around the broken timbers. The fragments tremble and start pulling themselves back together, reassembling into a barrier over the portal. She’s straining, the effort in her shoulders, the way her arms shake.
“Who knows how long this is going to hold,” she mutters.
The space beside Amir dims and two figures take shape in a swirl of black mystical smoke. Kade and Leah.
“What did I miss?” Kade asks, looking around at the destruction with raised eyebrows.
Amir snorts but his eyes stay serious.
“Some of them got away.” I keep my voice steady. “It was my father and some of the elder witches.”
“Ellie?” Kade asks, her interest piqued.
Leah shoots her a glare. Kade shrugs. Nearly all of Wintermoon knows Kade can’t stand her sister-in-law.
