AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ignoring the screams of pain stabbing down my neckline, I remove her collar, then I’m hit with the full, pent-up power of her voice.
“Get out, Royce O’Neely. Kornelius Justi ismine.”
Chapter44
Issy
The plan doesn’t include killing Royce so soon, but he’s technically already dead.
The mark on my wrist burns as I absorb his spirit while he tries to escape. It’s an alteration to the plan, but it works.
Fallon’s voice cuts through a moment later, telling me that the barrier around the room has dropped.Issy! I heard you call me. What the hell is going on? Where are you?
Not now, Fallon,I hiss as I try to concentrate.
I’m weaving the most complex spell of my life. It’s a combination of multiple spell books in various languages, and it’s all from memory.
My sister blessedly remains silent as I utter the words one after another, looping them together with matching linguistics to write the spell.
One segment for binding Royce’s bloodline to my command, similar to what the patriarchs did to all the females in the Outcast Coven. It weaves through his spirit like a needle with magical string.
He screams at every stitch. His spirit breaks apart, fraying at the edges until he’s an emblem for me to wear on my heart.
Then Royce is no more—he’s simply power for me to wield.
The next segment is for linking that power to Jewel through the mark on my wrist.
Zy’s necklace responds at my words and lights up, providing illumination in the otherwise pitch-black room.
This part of the spell has accidentally linked him, too, because technically he also shares the mark. I curse myself for not thinking of that.
Because now all my mates are glowing—meaning they’re coming with me.
To the death plane.
Shit.
The air vibrates as I continue the spell, unable to stop now. It could kill us all and likely punch a hole through Staten Island in the process. It wouldn’t be a portal. It would be a vortex of death.
As much as I want to burn this place to the ground, a fragment of hope still remains. I saw all the headstones my sister had broken. I learned of all the women ultimately freed—the matriarchs who could finally retake control and make the Outcast Coven what it was meant to be.
Whatever that looks like, they deserve a chance.
Hope is the third segment, and I form the words as Jasper takes out his lifetime of anger on his father.
I speak of the future as Jasper slashes with a long blade, taking off an arm.
I speak of new generations as he removes a leg.
Blood coats the splintered floor by the time he’s done, and I’m ready to move on to the final segment of my spell.
A low hum reverberates in my throat while I allow Jasper to complete his job. We don’t need Zane anymore.
Now, Jas,I whisper into his mind.
He glances up at me, briefly, his dark eyes teeming with retribution and rage.
Zyran is holding on to the daggers in Kor’s chest, while Kor struggles to breathe.
