“Music to my damn ears.” Cassidy clapped once, wincing slightly after.
Margo and Aeren stood near the edge of the lantern light, both still watching—Margo’s grin wide enough to split her face, while Aeren looked like she wanted to claw her own eyes out.
“Get it, Ems!” Margo whooped, raising a hand toward Aeren for a high five.
“Revolting.” Aeren recoiled, folding her arms tight across her chest. “That’s my brother.”
Margo shrugged, unfazed. “Doesn’t make it any less hot.”
Emmaline snorted, shaking her head as she followed Cassidy into the dark. The shadows clung thick and writhing, then, as they neared, tore away from the walls, peeling back like wet paper to reveal the room beyond.
Chapter thirty-two
Thesmellhitfirst—blood,sweat, and the sharp bite of burnt magic, thick enough to coat her tongue.
Emmaline stepped into the back room, her heel snagging on uneven stone.
“Shite!” She pitched forward, but Deyric caught her elbow without missing a beat, like he’d been expecting it. His eyes stayed glued ahead, but she caught the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
Steady once more, Emmaline looked around the small room, taking in the others. Margo, Aeren, Cassidy, Ursula, and even Lara were all gathered now, silent as wraiths.
Lashed to a heavy wooden chair, Caelith’s arms were wrenched back, hands bound tight enough to turn his fingers purple where the shadows cut into his skin. Ursula sat closest, ready to summon more darkness at a moment’s notice.
Sitting straight, Caelith lifted his chin despite the blood crusted down one side of his face. His mouth was still sealed shut, skin stretched smooth where his lips had been, but his eye—the one Aeren hadn’t destroyed—gleamed sharp and clear.
Emmaline’s voice came rough. “How long was I out?”
Ursula didn’t glance back. “Hours.” The word dropped flat and heavy. “It’s nearly dawn.”
A thin spark flickered behind Caelith’s chair—lightning sputtering bright enough to catch Emmaline’s eye. Before it could build, a tendril of shadow shot from Ursula’s hand, wrapping around his wrists like a vise and snuffing the spark to nothing.
“He’s been at it since we got him tied down.” Her shoulders slumped slightly.
“Are you okay?” Emmaline asked.
Ursula sighed, rubbing her sleeve across her forehead, smearing sweat into her silver hair. “Didn’t expect to have to hold him this long. I’m sorry you won’t get much time with him,” she said, cracking her neck side to side. “We need to finish this.”
Another surge of power flared to life behind his back, this one faster. Ursula moved just as quickly, and darkness snapped over the lightning as her hand snapped across his face, the crack of bone cutting through the air as his head whipped sideways.
Blood welled fresh along the line of impact, tracking down his chin to drip onto the floor. His head turned back slowly, the good eye glaring at the witch.
Ursula leaned in. “I wanted you to have at least one eye left—to see them when they take your life. But if you keep testing me, I’ll seal that hole too.”
The glare faltered, fear taking root, and this time, it stayed.
Aeren’s arms folded tight across her chest. “He looks so much smaller.”
One eye tracking her movement, Caelith’s arms worked more desperately against the bonds as though he could still claw his way free if he tried hard enough.
“He is small.” The words slipped out before Emmaline could stop them. He barely looked like a man at all, trapped in the chair with one eye swelling shut and the other just a red hole, his once-golden hair matted with blood. This… thing… was just a crumbling artifact of the monster she remembered.
Her feet carried her forward with Deyric behind her every step of the way. Not touching her, not speaking—just there, an unshakable pull, like the earth itself remembering where she belonged.
“I have a whole bag of toys in the back if you’d like to pick something special.” Ursula’s voice broke the silence. “Just be quick. We’ll leave Aeren’s magic for the Patrol to find; they’ll think it was Margo fighting back. But I still need to clear any traces of mine that won’t fade with the sun, and the cleaning crew will be here in an hour or two.”
“This won’t take more than five minutes.” Emmaline turned toward Margo, holding out her hand. “Can I borrow that pretty little blade you took to my mate earlier?”
Behind her, Deyric’s low chuff of laughter rolled through the room, just a single exhale, but it landed square between her shoulder blades, heat chasing down her spine. She’d finally said the words.
