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Selphine hears it and her composure shatters. ‘Enough.’
Power erupts from her in a violent wave, but Rowan is ready. The two witches collide in the centre of the room, magic snarling in ropes of red, gold and black. The force slams into me, but Widow’s Fang anchors in my hand, drinking intent, sharpening itself on Selphine’s desperation.
I push forward through pain and strike again. The blade cuts Selphine’s arm and blood wells. She looks at it as if she cannot believe I dared.
I bare my teeth. ‘You taught me to aim for the hand casting the spell.’
Her eyes blaze. ‘I taught you too well.’
‘Finally, we agree.’
Valentin wounds Marek again, claws tearing deep across his chest. Marek’s pale eyes flicker with real alarm. Selphine sees the blood pouring down his coat, how Valentin has driven him back step by step, and every calculation in her face collapses into a single naked truth.
She loves him.
Gods.
She loves him enough to burn the world.
With a scream, she rips free of Rowan’s circle, catches Marek by the collar and throws up a force field that knocks Valentin into the air. He lands lithely on his feet, already lunging again.
Selphine’s gaze cuts to me. ‘This is not finished, child.’
‘I know,’ I say, throat burning. ‘Next time I’ll aim higher.’
Her face twists.
Marek, bleeding and furious, smiles at Valentin. ‘Die quickly, Moretti. Or die slowly. Either way, we will meet again.’
Then swamp-gold light folds around them.
They vanish. And the silence afterwards is brutal.
I stand in the wreckage of Valentin’s chambers with Widow’s Fang in one hand, blood in my mouth, and the taste of inevitability pressing down on my tongue.
Valentin reaches me first. His hands close on my face, checking, searching, shaking despite his fury. ‘How badly, my love?’
‘I’m alive.’
‘That is not an answer.’
‘It’s the only one I like. But you know what I’d love more? Catching a fucking break.’
Rowan staggers to the bed and braces herself on the post. Blood runs from her nose. ‘The stabiliser held. Barely.’
Valentin turns on her. ‘The fucking witch can still reach her.’
‘Yes,’ Rowan says. ‘Through the remnants of the spell and the incomplete bond.’
Incomplete.
The word hangs between us.
Valentin goes very still. I look at him. He looks at me. All the heat, love, fear and violence from minutes ago settles into one brutal truth.
Selphine still has access. Morrighan’s route is the prize because Marek wants to become Five Blood.
Valentin is running out of time. And I… I am his mate.
