Page 71 of Three Scorched Kingdoms

Leo was wrong. This is goodbye—and I’m not sure I’ll survive it.

Through the bond, I send Paige all my love. The sensation of it is one last, parting embrace. Soul to soul.

It’s all I have left to offer, and it’s not nearly enough.

But Paige suddenly gasps, her eyes flying open as her breath returns to her body.

Our eyes meet, and then her magic explodes.

Her skin glows with it, and the blinding light forces my eyes shut.

When I open them again, the fire is gone.

Screaming, Constantine stumbles back, his robes smoldering, his skin charred and cracked. Paige falls to the ground, her body free from his grip, but she’s still not moving.

“Paige!” I shout, rushing to her side. I drop to my knees, cradling her in my arms.

Her eyes flutter open, and I can see the determination in them, the strength that she’s drawing from somewhere deep within. She’s not done. Not yet.

“Aries,” she whispers, her voice weak but filled with resolve. “Help me stand.”

I hesitate, afraid that she’s too weak, but she gives me a look that brooks no argument. I help her to her feet, keeping one arm around her waist to steady her.

Constantine appears through the fog, his eyes narrowing as he watches her rise. “Impossible,” he hisses, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I drained you of every drop you had.”

Paige takes a step forward, her body trembling with effort, but there’s a new light in her eyes—a light that blazes with hope, love, and power.

The bond between us thrums with energy, with life. It’s not just my power or hers but something greater, something born from the connection we share. A power that Constantine could never understand because it’s not about destruction or domination—it’s about creation. About love.

The realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. Our bond—it’s not just a link between mates. It’s a source of magic all its own, a wellspring of light and life that we can draw from when one of us is empty or lost.

“Paige,” I say, my voice hoarse with urgency. “Our bond.”

She reaches out to me, her hand dark with soot, and I clasp it in mine. The connection between us flares brighter, a golden thread that weaves through the darkness, banishing the shadows, filling the void with warmth and light.

“You’ve taken enough from me, Constantine,” Paige says, her voice gaining strength with every word. “But now, I’m taking it back.”

I focus on the love we share, the strength that flows between us, just as I feel Paige doing the same. Constantine recoils, his eyes wide with fear as the light envelops us, growing brighter, stronger with each passing second.

“Love creates,” she murmurs, her voice soft but unyielding. “And hate destroys.”

With a final, forceful pull, the bond between us explodes into a magic I can feel as if it were my own.

Constantine screams, the sound high-pitched and inhuman, as the light wraps around him, latching onto his stolen magic and ripping it away. He thrashes, trying to break free, but he’s no match for the force of creation—of love.

His form begins to wither, the dark energy that once surrounded him dissipating into the air. He shrinks before our eyes, his once-imposing figure now frail and human, his eyes wide with terror as he realizes he’s lost.

“No… No, this can’t be…” he stammers, his voice weak and broken. He stumbles back, tripping over his own feet, and collapses to the ground, clutching at his chest as if trying to hold on to the last vestiges of his power.

But it’s gone. All of it. And without it, Constantine is nothing.

Paige sways, her strength nearly spent, but I catch her before she can fall. The flames around us are gone, but their damage remains. The library is a smoldering ruin of ash and smoke.

Constantine lies at our feet, nothing more than a pitiful, broken man. His eyes, once filled with malice and power, nowonly reflect fear and despair. The power that once made him so formidable is gone, leaving only a shell of the man who once threatened worlds.

“Please,” he begs, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t kill me.”

Paige looks down at Constantine, her expression unreadable. She reaches into her belt and withdraws the dagger I gave her this morning before the battle. Gripping it tight in her hand, she stands over Constantine.

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