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I was falling.
Plummeting into swirls of black.
I clawed at the air as I sought purchase, for anything to hold me to this world. My body collided painfully with the earth, my bones groaning as my full weight landed on my arm.
The leader whirled toward me, my blood trickling from his gaping mouth. He started to cough and sputter, his stomach hurling up the blood he’d stolen from me.
A violent convulsion shook the creature’s mighty frame, his chest spasming as he let out an agonizing screech.
Claws of smoke curled around his form, winding up and around until they gripped his throat, choking off his scream. Vein-like lines of onyx—much like my own scars—started to spread, first climbing from his chest to his neck, then snaking around the column of his throat to his ears, his cheeks, and across the uneven bridge of his nose.
The leader flailed as the ink spread, steam rising from the fresh wounds and filling the air with the pungent stench of rot. I should have gotten up and run, but I was rendered immobile by the scene playing out before me. And the strangest part of it all? I didn’t feel fear, not like I should.
What slithered into my blood and set my heart pounding was akin todelight.
“Kiara!”
My name sounded from far away.
“Kiara! I’m coming!” The voice floated to my ears like a long-forgotten memory.
Muscled forearms enveloped me in an earthy aroma, constricting around my body as they lifted me up. Greedily, I breathed it in, relishing the calm that overtook me. The familiarity. I knew that scent. That voice.
“I’m here, Kiara,” he rasped into my hair. A quiver racked the body holding me. “I’m sorry I was late.”
There was wetness on my cheeks, but I could barely feel it. I must have been crying. I might be hallucinating, but I welcomed the lie.
My eyes returned to the silhouette of the leader, now a motionless heap on the ground.
With the adrenaline leaving me, and reality returning in a sickening rush, the rage I’d felt turned to numbness. I wanted the monsters to die for what they’d done to Isiah and Alec, but what I’d done in return only made me feel empty and hollow.
What did I just lose of myself?
Another tear fell, its heat at odds with the coldness of my cheek. It slowly glided down to my chin, and I sucked in my first true breath of air since giving myself over to a darker nature.
Maybe Cila’s villagers had been right; I was a monster.
Yet the moment the droplet—the evidence of my shame and regret—hit the ground, a single spark of silver ignited and bloomed where the masked man’s heart should have been, and then a searing light of marigold yellow and burnt orange detonated. I squeezed my eyes shut as the arms around me tightened.
Wind raged against my raw skin, a rush of energy blasting across the clearing. It was so very different from the coldness of my shadows, and yet it felt just as familiar.
When the winds settled and the blinding light dimmed ever so slightly, I peeled open a heavy eye, a faint gasp leaving my lips at the sight before me.
The night was aflame.
As was the leader of the masked creatures.
The last thing I saw before the serene darkness took me was the creature burning as the world exploded in passionate gold.
Chapter Forty-Three
Jude
I will not come for our son. He is exactly where he is meant to be. Trust me in this, and do not write me again.
Letter from unknown sender to Jack Maddox,
year 38 of the curse
