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“Please… please… please, please, please, please, please,” I beg, crushing our hands together as tight as I can.
The black veins don’t stop. They spread and spread and spread.
Warmth seeps into my hand. And at first, I can’t tell if it’s my imagination, but as it begins, I know it’s not.
The dark marks of the curse shift, not pulling back entirely but changing direction. They coalesce around Alaric’s wounds, then flare, moving from his skin to mine, slithering up my arm, and searing their way through my body.
I collapse, unable to move as it fills me with its acid touch. But I don’t let go.
Blinding pain erupts until I swear an all too real fire ignites within, charring my flesh, melting my bones. Its presence is mindless. Famished. Wanting to consume everything in its path. Vicious in its ravenous need.
It pulls and pulls and pulls.
Then I drown beneath its pit of darkness.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ALARIC
The soft tapof my leather soles echoes with every step as if I am striding through a massive barren throne room. Fog, thick and endless and unnatural, surrounds me on all sides. Though there is no light, I can see the ground for about a yard in any direction before it’s swallowed by the mist.
I do not know how long I have been walking nor how far I have gone. And no matter what direction I turn—how fast or slow I walk—it is always the same. Continuing this aimless wandering is pointless, yet I cannot seem to stop.
A distant wind howls, gradually picking up, and it takes longer than it should for me to notice. I pause and listen, slowly turning in a full circle, squinting into the mist. The sound seems to come from every direction.
Louder and louder.
Closer and closer.
Until, finally, it becomes unmistakable, scraping along my bones.
Demons.
Lightning flashes, cutting through the haze. Seconds later, a deafening crack follows. The boom rattles chips of loose rock, making them shiver across the surface of the ground.
Only it isn’t thunder. It’s too loud, too close, and rather than trailing the flashes of light, this one came from a distinctly different direction.
I whirl to face the source I can’t yet make out.
Another crack erupts. Then another and another and another, with no rhyme or reason to it. Near and far, encircling me. With each resounding boom, the ground shakes.
I peer into the mist, scanning for any sign of movement. I think I see something, the barest movement.
Not daring to breathe, I wait. At first, it almost seems like a trick of the mist, then it quickly morphs into reality. Dark, obscured shapes rise up, shifting. Moving so quick it is impossible to track.
Half a stride ahead, a protrusion bulges up over the flat ground. Fissures form as the rock begins to crack and break under the stress of the force. In a burst of rubble, a taloned hand punches through, long arm stretching up. Then it comes crashing down, sinking pointed fingers into the earth. clawing for purchase as a second limb breaks through. The hands scrape and dig, cracking the rock, until a twisted and gnarled form breaks free.
Eyes like embers pierce the fog, searching. The demon’s charred bone face turns, narrowing their focus on me, and releases a low rumble from deep within their chest.
I keep perfectly still as they lower their face within inches of mine. Hot, reeking breath washes over my face. Their jaw unhinges with several painful clicks, revealing flashing jagged rows of teeth that jut out at every angle. And then they roar.
Carefully. Carefully and slowly, I inch one foot back, but that movement draws the creature’s notice. In response, they crouch, thin yet powerful muscles bunching as they ready to attack.
Not a single twitch of muscle betrays my intention. I call down to the power residing within my veins to banish this beast. Yet with every attempt, it eludes me. Slipping from my fingers, as water from a tightening fist, only to sink further from reach.
Fuck.
Pivoting on my heel, I turn and run.
