Page 88 of Witch's Fate

In a second, he knew it.

He and Sofia were going to die.

The village was drowning, their fellow warriors all engaged in battles for their lives. Even the backup from the university was occupied below.

And he and Sofia stood between twenty-five immensely powerful witches who would vie for the right to kill them. Rage at their fate overwhelmed him.

He deserved this, but not Sofia. Every terrible thing he’d ever done—the worst of it to Sofia—could land him here and it would make sense.

But not her.

Fighting their way out of this was likely impossible. The odds of rescue coming in time were slim to none.

When the brilliant white forms of the souls of Sofia’s ancestors appeared at her side, the answer hit him. They were creatures of the aether. What power they had was tied to it.

“What’s this?” the High Witch yelled.

“Can you protect Sofia from an aether blast?” he hissed at the nearest soul. Her mother, he realized.

Her mother’s eyes widened, shocked. “Y-Yes. I believe so.”

“Then do it now.”

She gasped, then whirled. In a split second, she and the other souls formed a protective circle around Sofia. Her mother and grandmother and those that came before. A dome of protective light surrounded her and Kitty.

He took one last look at her shocked face, his heart breaking, then spun away. He extended his arms in the opposite direction and focused on the aether, calling it forth.

Then he did what no self-preserving warlock would ever do and tore a hole in space that would spell his own death.

The brilliant white light of the aether radiated, growing fast. As the power sang up his arms and vibrated his muscles, he held fast, letting the aether grow.

“No!” Sofia’s scream tore at his heart.

But it was the only way. He didn’t have a chance to make it out of here, but she did. Even if he lived, he couldn’t be with her. Fate demanded it. His past choices ensured it. She’d sacrificed so much for her village. And he’d been the one to set them on this path by stealing the dagger.

It was only right that he do this.

He could see to it that she escaped. That what was left of her village survived.

Pain sang along his nerves as the energy of the aether began to spiral out of control. The witches shrieked, falling to their knees. He could hear Sofia crying behind him, screaming at him to stop. He forced the sound away.

Peace suffused him. Though it meant his death, he’d been given a gift when the Salem Coven had arrived. In their rage and desire to be the ones to kill Sofia, the High Witches had left their protective circle.

And he was now close enough to kill them all.

As the white energy of the aether consumed him in unbearable heat, his last image was of Sofia.

Sofia fought against the souls containing her, shrieking as a blast of pure magical energy consumed Malcolm. It radiated outward, immolating the witches who surrounded her and destroying the building beneath her feet.

She stayed suspended within the protective bubble created by the souls of her family, the world now eerily silent. It only emphasized the pain ripping through her heart. She had felt him go. The warmth of his presence was gone now.

She felt so alone.

Tears blurred her vision. The witches were dead, but so was Malcolm.

He’d sacrificed himself.

The area around her was chaos. The entire building was destroyed. Forty feet across at least. In the street, the flood waters had receded immediately and the waterspouts had disappeared.

---