Page 69 of Mane Squeeze
The moment stretched.
And then the sigil detonated.
Light burst from the earth like a geyser of stars. The scream of it wasn’t just sound—it was vibration, memory, history being rewritten in a second. The shadow beasts shrieked in unison. They collapsed inward, their forms unraveling like smoke caught in reverse wind. They didn’t die. They weresucked—drawn screaming into the rift that tore open at Thaloryn’s back.
The tether snapped.
The air shattered.
Thaloryn staggered backward, one hand outstretched in disbelief as the pulse of power rippled through his chest and broke whatever hold he’d had.
Lillith fell to one knee, sweat beading at her brow, her vision swimming with afterimages.
But she didn’t drop the second sigil she’d hidden in her other palm.
She wasn’t finished. Not yet.
Dominic was at her side instantly, shifting back, wrapping his arms around her. “You did it,” he breathed. “You actually?—”
The wind shifted.
Lillith’s eyes shot up in warning too late.
Thaloryn, snarling, half-scorched and stripped of glamour, lunged.
He didn’t go for her. He went for Dominic.
Everything slowed.
His blade—bone and shadow—pierced the space between them. Dominic shoved her back. Lillith screamed. The world tilted. And Dominic fell.
Thaloryn vanished in a crack of ice-cold air.
Dominic hit the ground, eyes wide, blood blooming too fast, too red across his shirt.
“DOMINIC!”
She dropped beside him, hands fumbling, pressing against the wound, her magic screaming inside her to do something—anything—but nothing held. Nothing stuck.
His hand curled weakly around hers.
“Still with me,” he rasped, lips pale.
She shook her head, tears falling freely now. “No, no, no, don’t you dare. I just found you again. You don’t get to leave.”
He smiled. Faint. Brave. “You did good, Lillith. Real good.”
“You’re not saying goodbye.”
“Just… saying I’m proud of you.” Then his eyes fluttered closed.
31
DOMINIC
The world was quiet but not the peaceful kind. Dominic had known that, once, in the early mornings on the porch ofPines and Needles, mug of too-hot coffee in hand, the scent of pine curling through his thoughts.
No. This was the quiet that came after a storm had torn the sky in half. The kind that came when even your heartbeat forgot to echo.
