by Freya Black
My mouth flung open, wide enough to catch flies, when his eyelid fluttered. I wanted to be the first person he saw when his eyes opened. I leaned my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart, without even caring about the cream stuck in my hair.
“Hey, beautiful,” Declan said after what felt like an hour. Although hoarse, he still sounded like himself.
He touched his finger to my blood-streaked cheek, and I slid up to meet his gaze.
“I guess this means we won.” His emerald irises caught mine, never faltering, as he cocooned me with his warmth.
I nodded, my head rubbing against his shoulder, and his muscles tightened around me in response. We curled up like that for a while, my sneakers digging into the grass, his clothes covered in ash, not caring that our Coven was standing over us.
Finally, I sat up and helped him to his feet. He glanced up at the moon before settling on my face, a wicked grin crossing his lips.
We celebrated Samhain by lighting ritual bonfires, renewed our Protection spell, and cleansed our sacred ritual grounds.
After the final ceremony, I snuck off, heading straight to my parents’ graves. But Sloane knew exactly where to find me. He slipped through the stones with two cups of hot apple cider.
“So, I guess we have until the end of Samhain until Kate turns us over to the Imperium Council,” he said, handing me a paper cup.
I took a sip, allowing the warmth spreading to my stomach to soak in for a minute. One of the reasons I loved fall was because of the homemade cider Kate would make each year.
Still mulling over Sloane’s words, I thought about my conversation with Kate earlier. “Kate wants to wait until the Imperium Council summons us to Castra for our Divine Judgment. The Inner Circle agrees that something is off with the way they handled the stolen Sacred Tokens. You know they’re going to kill us for what we did, Sloane.” I had a hard time speaking while choking back a tear. This was our moment, and I didn’t want to ruin it by sobbing on his shoulder.
He leaned down and planted a kiss on my head, his lips warmer than the cider in my cup. “We’re in this together, Nona, no matter what happens, now and forever.”
“Forever.” I sighed—not out of relief at his words, but because we were about as good as dead. “I like the sound of that, no matter how long our forever lasts.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, noting the trepidation in my voice. “Are you still thinking about the vision?”
Of course, I wanted to say.
Bastian had shown me my mother rotting away in an adamantine cell, covered in dirt.
Instead, I shrugged against him. “I’m sure it was nothing. Just a Glamour to trick me into handing over the Galdrar. That’s all he really wanted.”
“Maybe…but what if it wasn’t?” Sloane sounded almost convinced.
That made me wonder if everything Bastian had said was true. My chance was now gone even if I wanted to make a deal with the devil.
“I would help you,” Sloane whispered, looking over his shoulder. We could never be too careful. “If I had the chance to see my mom again, I’d turn their world upside down, looking for her.”
A range of emotions swept over me, making it impossible to think straight. I weaved my fingers through his wavy hair, my mind swimming with thoughts.
My Gods and Goddesses, I love you, I thought as I stared into his eyes.
Sloane pulled me closer and softly kissed me at first, but his passion grew each second. I love you, too, Nona. His modulated voice was a faint whisper in my mind while our tongues still worked in harmony.
Honey and charred earth filled my nostrils, a sort of sick but comforting aroma. I smiled, thinking of how much I liked the whisper of his voice. It was like we had our own language or a secret handshake that no one knew about.
He must’ve read my mind because he returned my smile.
His words had helped me through my battle with the Hexenjagers. That had to be the reason our fates had intertwined with the universe pushing us together. I needed him more than I’d realized, more than I’d ever needed anything in my life.
“How is this possible? I shouldn’t be able to hear your thoughts. I’m not even a Telepath.”
His lips twisted into a crooked smile. “It’s magic, baby!”
I laughed because he’d uttered the same response on our first date, the day we’d boiled the Sabine River.
Sloane kissed me, and our auras merged as one, setting fire to my insides. At least for now, his arms kept me safe.
Tomorrow, we would tear through the dark realm in search of my mother because, together, we could face anything. Our powers were no longer ours alone, and neither was my fight.
Regardless of the Council’s Divine Judgment, they could never take this moment away from us.
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About the Author
Freya Black is an emerging fantasy author who loves creating fictional characters and worlds. Her first book Cursed is the start of The Price of Magic Series with other new adult and young adult fantasy titles to follow.
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