Page 39 of Howling Holidays

"Vinculis frangere," the witches chant in unison, their voices growing louder. "Libera nos a maledictione!"

"Vinculis frangere," I whisper under my breath, desperate to contribute to the ritual in any way I can. "Libera nos a maledictione."

Logan's hand squeezes mine again, his eyes never leaving mine. It's as if he's telling me without words that we really are in this together, and that no matter what happens, we'll face it side by side. And in that moment, I realize just exactly how much I've come to love him.

"Vinculis frangere!" the witches cry out one last time, their voices echoing through the trees. "Libera nos a maledictione!"

As the incantation reaches its crescendo, Logan suddenly goes rigid beside me, his hand tightening painfully around mine. His eyes roll back in his head, and it's as if he's been pulled into a trance, leaving his body behind. Panic swells in my chest, mixing with the thrumming power of the ritual.

"Logan?" I call out hesitantly, my voice trembling with concern. His jaw clenches, muscles tensing as he struggles against the hold of the trance. My heart races, and I reach out with my free hand, placing it on his cheek. "Logan, come back to me. Please."

The townsfolk's protective circle remains unbroken, their resolve unwavering as they keep watch for any outside interference. I can feel their collective strength supporting us and the witches, like a living barrier against the darkness that threatens to swallow us whole.

"Come on, Logan," I urge him, my voice cracking with desperation. "You're stronger than this. We're stronger together."

Time seems to stretch out before me, each second feeling like an eternity as Logan fights against the trance, his body trembling with effort.

"Logan!" I cry out, reaching for him with trembling hands. His skin is clammy beneath my touch but burning like fire all at once. "You have to fight it! Come back to us!"

I can't breathe; my whole body is tense as Logan's eyes are still rolled back, his once fierce expression distant and vacant. The air is heavy with anticipation, the witches' voices still echoing in the wind as they chant their incantation. My heart hammers against my chest, and a sickening worry coils deep within me.

"Emily," he manages, his voice strained and barely audible above the cacophony of chanting. He doesn't look at me; his gaze remains unfocused, lost somewhere far away. But his jaw clenches, muscles shifting beneath the surface, and I know he's fighting with everything he has.

"Stay with me, Logan," I plead, gripping his hand tightly with my own bloodied one. The pain of our self-inflicted cuts seems insignificant compared to the fear that threatens to consume me. "You're stronger than this curse. We need you."

"Emily... I'm trying," he grits out, his face contorting with effort. Sweat beads on his brow, trickling down his temple and mixing with the dirt that clings to his skin from our earlier struggles.

"Keep going, Logan," I encourage, my voice wavering but determined. "Fight it. For your pack, for Everwood, and for us."

His amber eyes flicker with recognition, and for a brief moment, they lock onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. It's as if our connection transcends the trance, anchoring him in the present.

"Em...mily," he breathes, his grip on my hand tightening. I can feel the strength radiating from him, despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

"Logan, you've got this," I whisper fiercely, willing him to hold on. "Remember our love. Fight for us. We're in this together."

His muscles tense even further, a low growl vibrating through his chest as he struggles against the trance. His jaw clenches so tightly that I'm afraid it might crack under the pressure.

"Almost there," I murmur, my heart pounding in sync with his labored breaths.

Finally, with one last surge of determination, Logan breaks free from the trance's grasp. The tension drains from his body, and his eyes clear, focusing on me with an intensity that nearly takes my breath away.

"Emily," he whispers hoarsely, his grip on my hand loosening slightly as relief floods through me. "I'm here."

An ear-splitting crack echoes through the forest, and the very air around us seems to shatter like glass. A blinding light erupts from the center of the moonstone, forcing us to shield our eyes and brace ourselves against the onslaught of raw energy. The moonstone rumbles and shakes as the light lifts it off the pedestal, and as the light glows brighter the moonstone breaks into tiny shards. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the light fades leaving the moonstone in a pile of dust scattered around the pedestal and an eerie silence descends upon us.

After a few moments of quiet, the realization dawns on all present that the curse has been successfully broken, and a wave of joy and celebration washes over the forest. The shifters cheer and embrace one another, their voices mingling with the sounds of nature, creating a symphony of triumph and hope.

Emily," he rasps, relief flooding his features. "I'm here. We did it."

I release a shaky breath, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "Yes, we did."

Logan!" Callie shouts from across the circle, relief etched onto her face. "You did it!"

"Was there ever any doubt?" Logan replies, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

A ripple of relief and triumph flows through the group as the witches and townsfolk express their excitement too. Bonnie and Callie exchange wide-eyed glances, their faces reflecting a mixture of astonishment and pride.

"Is it really over?" I ask Logan, unable to contain the hope swelling in my chest.

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