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I open my mouth to scream, but the muting barrier is active in this room.
Even though I’m ready for it, it’ll take my magic time to saw through it.
The air shimmers as my father turns on me and chuckles. “Oh, Ishara. You’ve come just in time to see the fallout of our family. You’re lucky that I need you alive—but you’re not supposed to be here.” He clicks his tongue and whispers another few words of a spell, sending the black line deeper into my mother’s neck.
She gurgles on her own blood.
A scream is lodged in my throat, but I can’t move. My entire body is frozen just like it has been under Daithi.
Bastard!I scream in my mind, but the words don’t come out.
“You’re supposed to spread your legs for your new mate,” he says, circling me with a cruel grin on his face. “That’s all bitches are good for. That and giving us their power, because none of you know how to use it properly. Don’t you see? Only the patriarchs can bring the Outcast Coven to power. So witness what happens when youdisobey.”
He makes a fist and my mother’s body lurches. Tears are rushing down my cheeks and my entire body trembles. I’m screaming inside my head, and my magic is like a bubble about to burst, but it’s not enough.
My mother locks her gaze with mine and there’s an unspoken need.
She can’t talk to me like Fallon can, but I don’t need to read her mind to know her intention.
I’m sorry,she seems to say.I’m sorry for everything. Do not… let him win.
Her lashes flutter over her eyes and her lips move on a spell.
It’s the kind of spell a witch can only cast once.
When her spirit pops free from her body, all of the magic generated by her death explodes through the room, breaking the barrier holding my voice and body at bay.
I scream. I release all of my fury, my rage, and my sadness.
It rips into my father, shredding into him unlike I’ve ever seen my magic do before. His skin splits as if I’ve cut him with a thousand knives.
He falls to his knees and trembles as blood wells across his skin, soaking into his suit.
I shuffle forward into the room and run my fingers over his cheek. Blood smears with the gesture as I crouch down so I can see his face.
I want to see his terror when he dies.
“Goodbye, Father.”
Chapter25
Zyran
Sunlight struggles to warm my cool skin as I finally stir from the spell-induced dream.
A dream where my fated mate killed her own father.
And Daithi, too. That was hella satisfying to experience.
She allowed me to watch her darkest memory, one that felt so buried I am sure even she hadn’t relived it since the event itself.
But something feels wrong as I struggle to open my eyes. The sun is annoying to a vampire, but not unbearable, at least not at my age. Yet my fingers ache as if they don’t have any blood in them.
I don’t have a heartbeat, so my blood travels differently in my body. Magic is what keeps everything flowing, but a stabbing sensation makes me wince when I flex my fingers again.
When I move, I disturb the beautiful witch lying in the sea of roses with me. A few of the thorny stems have caught in her hair, making it appear as if she is wearing a floral crown.
She groans and her brow furrows, then I see her arms are still trapped behind her back.
