Page 193 of Dark Fate

Danica

90

Or does it have to be? The Atherite stone. It failed with Adrain—I can use it to bring Emily back. But how does this damn thing work?

"Seraphina!" I scream, my voice tearing through the air like a wounded animal. "Help me, goddammit!"

Silence—deafening, soul-crushing silence. Rhyland crumples to his knees behind me, his heart shattering in tandem with mine, our souls bound by an unbreakable thread of love and agony.

His arms reach for me, but I flinch away, my words a broken whisper. "No. I need to bring her back."

Rhyland's hands fall to his sides, understanding etched in the lines of his face. I lower Emily to the grass with trembling fingers, my hands resting on her motionless chest. I close my eyes, diving deep within myself, grasping for the power that pulses through my veins like molten gold, the essence of Aetheria.

It surges through me, a searing warmth that starts at my fingertips and rushes through my body like wildfire. It pours into Emily, a blinding light that seeps into her very pores.

Sweat drips down my face, my brow furrowed in concentration, my jaw clenched so tight I feel my teeth might shatter. The energy courses through me, a raging river of light and life, a bridge between worlds, between life and death.

Sable's gasp shatters the air, her eyes wide with awe and disbelief as she watches the impossible unfold before her. Emily's burns fade, knitting together charred flesh, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin, the flush of life returning to her cheeks—breathing life into still lungs. And then, a gasp, a shuddering intake of breath that seems to still the very world. Emily's eyes fly open, wild and alive, darting around in confusion and wonder until they lock with mine.

A smile breaks through my tears, a profound joy that steals my breath from my lungs. I crush her to me, our tears mingling, our hearts beating.

I did it.

It worked.

Rhyland exhales, his hand clutching his chest as the ache that mirrored mine slowly fades, replaced by a warmth that spreads through him like the first rays of dawn.

"I'm so sorry—don't ever leave me again," I whisper fiercely into Emily's ear. "I can't lose you, not like that, not ever."

She gives a firm nod against my shoulder, the weight of her head a solid reassurance. "Next time, control your damn fire, pyro!" she quips, but her voice betrays the depth of her feelings, thick and rich with emotion. "I'm here, Dani, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Damn right, you're not," I laugh through my tears, pulling back to look at her. "I didn't just pull off the most epic resurrection in history for you to bail on me now."

Emily snorts, a grin spreading across her face. "Please, like I'd ever miss out on the chance to give you shit for the rest of your life. You're stuck with me, bitch."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, asshole," I retort, my heart lighter than it's been in ages.

Rhyland shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "You two are something else, you know that?"

"You love it," I smirk, pulling him in for a kiss that sets my soul on fire.

The illusion of safety shatters as slow, taunting clapping fills the air. "Well, well, well... Bravo! Aren't you all just the perfect little team," Azrael's voice oozes into the moment like venom, its contempt permeating the air, causing my flesh to crawl with disgust. His words dripped with scorn and derision.

He's got another coven of witches behind him, at least a dozen strong.

We rise as one; an instinct and unity bind us. I shove Emily behind me, a shield against the oncoming storm.Rhyland, protective as ever, moves me further behind him, assuming the frontline role.

The sight that greets us is a coven convergence—at least a dozenwitchesflank Azrael. His sharp and calculating gaze finds mine, his words laced with venom. "You know, I really despise it when insignificant pests like you stick your noses where they don't belong. And what you've done here? Not very polite at all," he scolds, his gaze boring into me like a drill. "Especially you, Doctor Pierce," he clicks his tongue, his voice dripping with false disappointment as if addressing a misbehaving toddler. "Slaughtering all thesewitcheslike cattle. My, my, whatever happened to that bleeding heart of yours?"

Rhyland's response shoots out like a shard of ice, barbed with venom for Azrael's hubris. "Fuck off, Azrael," he snarls, the growl in his voice a clear threat. His hand sweeps across the area, signaling a clear ultimatum to all the witches watching. "Unless you're itching for a repeat of the last witch bloodbath."

Azrael's face contorted into a mask of feigned distress, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Ah yes, this little stunt of yours has certainly created quite the inconvenience for me. You see, Dani, you and your merry band of do-gooders just slaughtered over half of my precious witches. Now I'm left with a pitifully inadequate number to carry out my grand ritual."

Screw him.

"That was the plan, asshole." Lucian fires back.

Just then, my crown buzzes, the vibrations shooting down my spine like an electric current. It's like having a swarm of bees trapped inside my skull, their incessant humming drowning out everything else. I try to shake it off, to focus on the clusterfuck of a situation we're in, but it's like trying to think through a layer of thick, suffocating fog.

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