Their voices rose in unison, not a chant, not a spell, but a song. A song that thrummed with memory, with loss, with defiance.
And the skies lit brighter.
Shifters joined, and the shadows screamed louder.
Malore staggered, his eyes wide, his form flickering under the onslaught.
I felt my body heat, the Flame Ward roaring higher, answering the light above, my veins molten, my heart pounding like a drum. The fire wanted to join that song, to blaze with it, to consume everything in its path.
But I didn’t understand what the witches had done.
And as the skies blazed and the shadows scattered, Malore’s roar split the air one last time.
He lunged straight at Keegan.
Chapter Forty-Five
The courtyard’s roar collapsed into one sound.
Malore’s bellow as his claws cut through the fire, through the silver wolf’s light, through my father’s torch, and drove straight toward Keegan.
I didn’t think.
I moved.
“NO!” The word ripped from me as I flung myself in front of him.
His claws met me head-on.
The impact was a storm made flesh. His strike slammed into my chest, heat and shadow tearing through me. Pain flared so sharply I couldn’t even scream, my breath punched from my lungs as my body flew back. The world spun in a blur of fire, silver, and stone before the ground rose up to crack against my back.
The shock drove everything out of me—the fire, the breath, the fight.
And then the images began.
Keegan’s smile, eyes softened in the candlelight of the cottage.
Celeste’s laugh, ribbons in her hair as she danced through the square.
My father’s hands, scarred but steady, teaching me to braid rope on the porch when I was a tiny girl.
My mother’s sharp voice, softened once in a rare moment, telling me I was stronger than I thought. The Academy’s halls, alive and glowing, opening their doors for me when I thought I had nothing left.
All of it flashed in shards, memories strobing like fireflies before my vision dimmed.
Somewhere, far away, I heard my father.
“Maeve!”
The cry was raw, broken, more beast than man. My chest clenched at the sound, even as my body refused to move.
And then the courtyard lit with a glow like none I had ever seen.
Time slowed.
The roar of shadows, the clash of claws, the song of the witches. All of it hushed into a long, low hum. The air shimmered, brighter and brighter, until it felt like the sun itself had broken through the storm.
I forced my head to turn, every muscle screaming.