Page 19 of Howling for Cupcakes

The drive to the lawyer’s office was filled with easy conversation as Luna regaled Mari with the latest gossip around town, from old Jasper Moon the ghostly librarian terrorizing patrons who dared dog-ear book pages to Lark Wilder’s latest exploits “liberating” garden gnomes from stuffy yards. Despite the flutters of anxiety still present in her gut, Mari found herself laughing more than she had in a long time. Luna had a way of lightening even the darkest of moods.

As they pulled up outside the nondescript office building, Luna turned to Mari and squeezed her hand. “You’ve got this. I’ll be right here in the lobby if you need me.”

Mari nodded, not trusting herself to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. Drawing in a fortifying breath, she squared her shoulders and marched into the building before her courage could desert her. With each step closer to the heavy oak door of John’s office, her magic prickled beneath her skin, responding to the crescendo of her heartbeat.

She knocked twice, the sound abnormally loud in the hushed hallway, and entered when John’s muffled “Come in,” reached her ears. But when she stepped inside, the greeting she’d prepared died on her tongue.

Victor stood beside John’s desk, tall and imposing in his impeccably tailored black suit. His icy blue eyes locked onto hers and the corner of his mouth lifted in a cruel facsimile of a smile.

“Hello, Marigold. You’re looking well.” His voice, cold and smooth as the expensive Scotch he favored, sent a shiver down her spine.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Mari hated the tremor in her words, the way her hands shook as she closed the door behind her.

“Tying up loose ends.” Victor took a step toward her, his gaze hard and assessing. “Did you really think I would let you go so easily? That I would allow you to make a fool of me with this ridiculous divorce?”

“Victor, please. Let’s be reasonable-” John started to say, half-rising from his chair, but Victor silenced him with a look before turning back to Mari.

“You forget, my dear,” he practically purred the endearment, making her skin crawl. “You belong to me. And it’s time you remembered your place.”

He moved so quickly, Mari barely had time to throw up a defensive shield before his magic slammed into her, a brutal assault of icy energy that stole the breath from her lungs. She gasped and staggered back, her own magic flaring to life in a desperate attempt to ward him off.

But Victor was relentless, hammering at her mental walls with vicious precision, seeking out the cracks and weak spots he knew all too well. Pain lanced through Mari’s skull as he battered down her defenses, her vision blurring and darkening at the edges as his insidious whispers snaked into her mind.

“Foolish girl, thinking you could escape me. Did you really believe this pathetic town and its menagerie of outcasts could protect you? You’re nothing without me.”

Mari gritted her teeth against a scream of agony as Victor’s influence dug deeper, shredding her sense of self, her very will to fight. He’d always excelled at this, tearing her down until she believed she was exactly what he said - worthless, weak, nothing without him...

Dimly, she registered John’s panicked shouts, his yells for help, but it all seemed so very far away. All that existed was the pain, the invasion of Victor’s magic as he sought to subjugate her mind, to puppet her body as he had so many times before during their marriage.

She was losing, she could feel it. Her magic guttered like a dying candle flame, unable to withstand his brutal onslaught. Despair crashed over her as her knees buckled and she fell to the carpet, Victor looming over her with a look of smug triumph on his aristocratic face.

This was it, she realized in a moment of horrible clarity. He would crush her here and drag her back to that gilded cage of a life, forever beholden to his whims, forever trapped under his thumb. She would never know true freedom or love. Never see Molly or Arden again...

Arden. His name was a balm even in the ravaged wasteland of her mind. His crooked grin, laughing green eyes, and strong arms made her feel cherished and safe.

Something stirred deep in Mari’s chest, a faint but stubborn spark. No. She would not let it end this way. She would not let Victor win, not when she’d come so far, fought so hard for a chance at happiness. For a chance to love a good man, free of fear.

Gritting her teeth, Mari reached for that tiny flickering ember and pulled, stoking it with every scrap of defiance and desperate hope she could muster. Her magic roared to life, a brilliant conflagration that seared through her veins like molten gold. With a raw scream, she shoved at Victor’s invasion, blasting him out of her mind with a surge of shimmering power.

Victor reeled, eyes wide with shock as Mari climbed unsteadily to her feet, haloed in the crackling nimbus of her magic. She could feel it thrumming through every cell of her body, stronger than it had ever been, fueled by her iron determination. Never again would she let this man control her. Never again would she be less than whole.

“You,” she snarled, power spilling into her words like thunderheads, heavy with promise, “do not own me, Victor Sinclair. You have no claim on me, body, mind, or magic. I am not your plaything. I am not your property. I belong to myself and no other!”

With a final, mighty heave of magic, Mari sent Victor crashing into the wall, pinning him like an insect even as cracks spiderwebbed out from the impact. “GET OUT!” she roared. “Before I forget that I’m better than you and give you a taste of the hell you put me through all those years!”

Stunned fury overtook Victor’s face. He knew she could do it too. All the times he’d violated her mind, raped her spirit - she could pay him back tenfold in this moment and he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

But she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t lower herself to his level, no matter how tempting the poisoned fruit of vengeance. Mari released him from her magical hold and watched him crumple to the floor, gasping.

“Go, Victor,” she ordered, low and certain. “You have no power over me. Not anymore.”

Victor staggered to his feet, pure hatred contorting his face into something inhuman. He looked like he wanted to lunge at her, to rip her apart with his bare hands, but a flash of opalescent magic from Mari’s fingertips had him flinching back. With one final glare, he straightened his rumpled suit jacket and swept from the office without another word, leaving only the reek of ozone and scorched pride behind him.

Mari stood still as a statue in the wreckage of the room, chest heaving as she fought to calm her racing heart. She’d done it. She’d beaten him, for now. She’d proven to herself and to him that she was no cowering victim, not any longer. The shackles he’d bound her with for so many years had shattered to dust, and in their place was a terrible, soaring joy so acute it bordered on pain.

Distantly, she registered the office door bursting open and Luna rushing to her side, the older woman’s stream of frantic questions little more than white noise in her ears. Her magic winked out abruptly, leaving her dizzy and drained as the adrenaline began to ebb. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen had Luna not caught her, cradling her weight easily.

“I’ve got you, honey, I’ve got you. It’s over. You’re safe now. I felt your magic all the way in the lobby, you were magnificent...”

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