Page 5 of Magic Unleashed

Phoenix nodded, her grip tightening on her knives. “And it’s not going to wait for us.”

With one last glance at Griff, she pushed the door open, stepping into the unknown.

Griff Broussard wasn’t a stranger to darkness. It lingered at the edges of his life, always threatening to swallow him whole. But tonight, as he stood at the threshold of the old door, staring at the door Phoenix had just disappeared through, that familiar darkness felt different. It was alive, pulsating with magic and danger, pulling him into its depths like a predator sizing up its prey.

The metallic tang of the night air filled his lungs as he pushed through the door behind Phoenix, muscles tense and instincts flaring. His senses sharpened. Even in human form, his dragon nature simmered beneath his skin, the beast pacing impatiently, ready to be unleashed at the first hint of a threat. He couldn’t help it—not here, not now, not with the echoes of his father’s unsolved murder still whispering at the edges of his mind.

Phoenix was already a few steps ahead, her movements fluid and silent as she navigated the narrow hallway beyond the door. Griff’s gaze swept the space, noting every detail—the cracked tiles on the floor, the flickering overhead light, and the faint trace of something old, something ancient lingering in the air. Magic. He could smell it, thick and oppressive, curling around him like smoke.

“Phoenix, wait,” he hissed, his voice low but urgent.

She glanced back at him, her eyes sharp and alert, but there was a flicker of impatience in her expression. Phoenix always charged headfirst into danger, relying on her instincts and speed. Griff had always been the opposite—calculated, methodical. He needed to understand what they were walking into before they stepped too deep. But there was no time forplanning now. The person they’d been chasing—their only lead—was somewhere ahead, and they couldn’t afford to lose it.

Without another word, Phoenix continued forward, her hand brushing the wall as she moved. Griff followed, the tension between them thickening with each step. He knew she could handle herself—hell, she was probably better suited for this than he was—but that didn’t stop the protective instinct that flared in his chest whenever they were in a situation like this. He hated that about himself. Hated how being around her always made him feel more… vulnerable. More aware of the fact that she was a storm he could never quite tame.

They rounded another corner, and the hallway opened into a larger space, a dimly lit room with shelves lining the walls, filled with strange artifacts and dusty tomes. At the far end of the room, a figure was moving, rummaging through a pile of papers on a desk. Griff’s muscles tensed as he recognized it—the same person they had been chasing.

“Stop!” Phoenix’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

The figure froze, then spun around, its face partially obscured by a hood. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Griff caught a glimpse of the person’s eyes—glowing faintly, unnaturally—before they raised their hand, and a wave of energy pulsed outward. The magic hit them like a shockwave, sending Griff staggering back, his vision blurring for a split second.

Phoenix was quicker. She darted forward, dodging the brunt of the attack, her knives flashing in the dim light as she moved to close the distance between her and the assailant. Griff growled low in his throat, shaking off the disorienting effects of the magic. His dragon stirred beneath his skin, its power surging as he regained his footing. His vision sharpened, and his muscles tightened as he lunged forward, determined to back Phoenix up.

The fight was fast and brutal. Phoenix was relentless, her blades moving with deadly precision as she slashed at the figure. But their opponent was skilled—too skilled. Every time Phoenix got close, the figure countered with another burst of magic, forcing her back. Griff joined the fray, his dragon’s strength giving him an edge as he threw a punch at the hooded figure, but it twisted away, moving with an unnatural grace.

Griff’s frustration boiled over. He hated fighting magic users. It always felt like they had an advantage he couldn’t quite predict, no matter how many battles he’d been in. The figure shot another pulse of energy, this time aiming it directly at Griff. He raised his arms to shield himself, bracing for impact, but the force of the blow sent him crashing into a nearby shelf, toppling books and artifacts in a cascade of dust and chaos.

“Griff!” Phoenix’s voice was sharp with concern, but she didn’t have time to check on him. Their opponent took advantage of the momentary distraction, hurling another spell in her direction. Phoenix barely dodged it, but the blast caught her arm, sending her spinning to the ground with a hiss of pain.

A growl rumbled deep in Griff’s chest. Enough. His dragon roared inside him, and he let it rise, feeling the familiar burn of transformation ripple through his body. His skin prickled, his muscles expanded, and his vision turned molten gold as his dragon began to emerge. But just as the shift began to take hold, the hooded figure threw one last desperate spell—something dark and twisted that clawed at Griff’s senses.

A black mist filled the room, choking and suffocating. Griff struggled to breathe, his transformation halting midway as the magic wrapped around him like chains. He could feel it, tendrils of shadow snaking into his mind, trying to pull him under. But his dragon fought back, pushing against the intrusion with raw, primal power. Griff gritted his teeth, focusing on Phoenix, whowas already back on her feet, charging at the figure with renewed determination.

Phoenix’s blade found its mark, slicing through the figure’s arm with a sickening hiss. The hooded figure screamed—a high-pitched, inhuman sound—and staggered back, clutching its wound. For a moment, it looked like it might fall, but then it raised its hand one last time, and a portal of shimmering darkness opened behind it.

“No!” Phoenix lunged forward, but it was too late. The figure stepped into the portal, disappearing into the void as it closed behind it with a final snap, leaving only silence in its wake.

Griff collapsed to one knee, gasping for air as the last of the dark magic dissipated. His head was pounding, his body aching from the strain of the half-finished transformation. He could still feel the lingering traces of the spell, like poison in his veins, but it was fading—slowly, too slowly.

Phoenix was already moving, checking the room for any signs of their enemy. She was breathing heavily, her eyes blazing with frustration as she searched for any clue, any scrap of evidence that could lead them to the person who had just escaped. But the room was silent now, still, as if the fight had never happened.

“Damn it,” she muttered, kicking over a chair in frustration.

Griff forced himself to stand, his body protesting with every movement. “It got away,” he said, his voice rough.

Phoenix shot him a glare, her eyes still filled with that stormy intensity. “No shit. I was hoping for a clean catch.”

Griff winced, rubbing the back of his neck. His dragon was still simmering beneath the surface, restless and unsatisfied. “I don’t think that was just some random magic user. There was something off about him.”

Phoenix’s expression softened slightly as she turned back to him. “Yeah, I felt it too. That was dark magic. The kind that’s not supposed to exist anymore.”

Griff nodded, his thoughts racing. Dark magic. It was a term he’d only heard in whispers, in the kind of stories that most people dismissed as faery tales. But the residue in the air, the unnatural power he’d felt—that had been real. Too real. And it stirred something deep within him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A memory. His father’s murder.

The parallels were too strong to ignore. The unsolved crime that had haunted Griff for years had been steeped in mystery, in strange injuries and magical residue that no one could explain. And now, here he was again, facing the same kind of darkness.

Phoenix noticed the shift in his expression. “What is it?”

Griff hesitated, unsure of how to explain the storm brewing inside him. “This feels… familiar. Too familiar.”

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