I shivered as the stars heeded my request, their power overwhelmingly beautiful and decidedly potent. Their glittering beads formed a violent blade, slicing through the dark magic to strike the earth below.
I rolled off the grave, giving it freedom to work.
The energy vibrated and pulsed, the stars battling the spell and demanding that the deadly shieldyield. It was a devastating war, one I suspected could be felt all over the world as the night came to my aid, trying to fight through whatever dark web had tried to ensnare its queen.
But the ice continued to drizzle through my veins, freezing my limbs and making moving difficult.
I could barely even blink.
However, the ground was moving… the stars unearthing the mystery below the surface… and revealing what my medallion had been trying to show me.
It wasn’t the other half of my soul, or even another part of myself. It was simply a woman with dirt-covered hair, ghostly white skin, and emerald eyes that no longer blazed or saw anything on this earth.
I recognized her face because of the pain etched into her still features.
My magic had been trying to lead me to…
Fallon Doyle.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
NYX
I staredat the female beside me as the stardust floated back into the sky, my wish having been granted. But I didn’t understand it.How is she here? Why is she here?
She wasn’t truly dead. I could sense her lingering spirit. Which meant that she’d been put here, perhaps recently.
And buried several feet under the ground.
So that every time her immortality brought her back… she’d die again.
But for how long? And why?
I kept watching her, my body no longer able to move because of the lethal spell—the one turning me into a corpse.
I idly wondered if Fallon was impacted by it as well, when life returned to her irises, causing her to shudder madly as she began clawing at the air. In the next moment, she started hacking and vomiting up dirt, the sounds churning my stomach.
Yet I still couldn’t move, or even react beyond shifting my eyes. Tracking her. Observing her. Wondering what she would do when she realized I was here.
She seemed to freeze then, perhaps sensing my gaze on her.
However, rather than look at me, she bowed her head to the ground and whispered, “I-I’m sorry. Please… please don’t…”
She trembled, her words a rasp of air that I barely heard. But she sounded so broken and alone, her soul a tattered mess that I could sense more than see.
It took several moments of eerie silence before she moved again, her head barely tilting one way and then the other, her expression hidden from my vantage point. “Klas?” she whispered.
I frowned.Is she calling for her dead mate?
I couldn’t respond, my lips frozen shut.
“Klas?” she repeated. “Are you…?” She braced as though anticipating a strike. But when no one responded, she sat up a little to glance around. And gasped upon seeing me behind her.
She scrambled to her feet and took several steps backward, her hand at her mouth. Then she looked at the ground and all around the cemetery.
“Oh, no…” She started shaking her head, tears piercing her green eyes.
Remorse over casting this spell? Or something else?I wondered.