Death Untold: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Rebels Book 5)

by Sarah Piper

  She was silent for several moments, mesmerized by the beautiful, undulating sphere, and undoubtedly horrified by the tale of its origins.

  “Magic like this… It doesn’t come without a cost,” she finally said. “I know that better than anyone.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  She swallowed hard, then met my gaze, the opalescent swirls of the moonglass reflected in her eyes. “What will this cost?”

  “It matters not. The price will be paid.”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she sighed deeply. “Liam, despite everything that happened between us, I don’t want you to… I don’t want something bad to—”

  “I will not lie to you again, Gray,” I interrupted. “I do not know what is to come of this—only that I will be called to atone for it. That is the truth. The moment I created the moonglass, I sealed my fate. I will take whatever punishment is meted out.”

  “But—”

  “It is done. I’ve no regrets about that decision now, nor will I have them later. For there is no price I wouldn’t pay to bring you even a moment’s peace.” I gazed into her eyes, needing her to understand the depths of my feelings for her, the boundlessness of my sadness that I’d caused her any harm at all. “You must know that, Gray.”

  My voice had softened to a whisper, and Gray nodded, a single tear slipping from her eye. She held my gaze a moment longer, but her thoughts were veiled to me. If she thought to say something more, she decided against it, quickly swiping away the renegade tear and nodding, once again resolute.

  “What you must decide,” I explained, “is whether you’re willing to accept the risks and consequences for this decision and any that may come after as we endeavor to bring him back. If you’re not, you may say your goodbyes now and leave this realm, as you should have already done, and I will face those consequences alone.”

  At this, she let out a hollow laugh and rolled her pretty eyes. “Come on, Liam. I thought you knew me at least a little better than that. I would never bail on you.”

  Nor I you, little witch. Not ever again.

  “We’re in this together,” she went on. “Even if it wasn’t Emilio’s soul, and you’d asked for my help instead of the other way around, I’d still be here for you.”

  “That… that means more to me than you can imagine.”

  “I need you to know something. Everything that happened in the past—all the things you kept from me… It changes nothing. This means more to me than all of it. You mean more to me.”

  Emotion tightened my throat, but there were no adequate words to express my gratitude, my feelings for her. So instead, I lowered my eyes to the sphere and said, “This is the last important thing we will ever do together, Gray. Fitting that it will be the most important.”

  Without further ado, I handed her the moonglass. She took the sphere into her hands, delicately and reverently, fully aware of the importance of its contents.

  “Guard it with your last breath,” I warned anyway. “For if it breaks before the ritual is complete, his soul will have no vessel.”

  “And he’ll wander forever. I understand, Liam. I won’t let that happen.”

  “Emilio is lucky to have you as a friend. As am I.” It was all I’d dare to confess. I held her unwavering gaze for the span of one more breath, and then I turned back toward her wolf. “And now we begin.”

  Twelve

  GRAY

  The moonglass felt as delicate as a soap bubble, and I held it close to my chest, my skin warming at the contact.

  Liam had said this was the most important thing we would ever do together, and I couldn’t deny that. But the last thing? No. Neither of us knew what the future held, what the price of our actions tonight would be. But I had to believe this wasn’t the end. Not for any of us.

  Because I had to believe this would work—that we’d succeed in saving Emilio. And if we could do that, what couldn’t we do? What challenges couldn’t we overcome? What price couldn’t we pay? What rules couldn’t we break and re-write?

  Love made all of that possible. And I did love Liam, I realized now. We had a lot to work through together, a lot of trust to rebuild, a lot of pain to heal. But that didn’t change how I felt.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, kneeling down beside Emilio’s body.

  I nodded, kneeling on the other side, careful to keep the moonglass safe.

  “I will drain the poison from his body and attempt to heal his physical wounds,” Liam said. “But you must do the rest. You have a bond with him—one that goes far beyond the physical. Your souls are connected as flames lit from a single candle.”

  “We are,” I whispered, feeling a tug low in my belly, a warmth that stretched outward toward the sphere, longing to feel Emilio’s touch.

  “Gaze into the moonglass,” Liam continued, his hands already moving over Emilio’s wounds, assessing the damage. “Call on your love for him, your connection, and reach out to his soul. You must be as a beacon for him, Gray, for even with our guidance, if he loses his way back to his physical form, we won’t be able to revive him. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I said firmly.

  “Once he’s found you, you must guide the soul precisely back into his body. That is done with intense focus, precise visualization, and your magic. You must imagine his soul as a river of light, and your magic as the gentle but immutable force of gravity that guides it along its path. It will require more magic than you have ever expended, more concentration than you have ever commanded, and above all, unshakable faith that you can complete this task. There is no room for error on this, Gray. Not unless you want to turn him into something… else.”

  “Bean,” I breathed, and a memory flickered behind my eyes—a young girl in a unicorn hoodie, blood pooling on the pavement, her life force leaving as I held her in my arms. It was before I’d learned about my powers, about being Shadowborn, about any of it, and I’d brought her back from the dead with no clue what that would mean for her.

  I’d turned her into something terrible, an undead monster, cursed.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded again. That would not happen. Not again. Never again.

  “I can do this, Liam. I know I can.” I cleared my throat, then tried again. “I will do this. I’ll guide his soul, bring him home. There are no other options.”

  Liam stopped his ministrations and smiled, catching my gaze. “I have complete faith in you, little witch, or we would not even attempt it.”

  His smile was brief, but his confidence bolstered me further.

  “I have complete faith in you, too,” I said plainly, because that was the truth. Just as I wouldn’t create another cursed soul, Liam would never disappoint me again. I knew that like I knew the taste of Emilio’s brownies, the scent of his skin, the feel of his wolf’s fur on my hands.

  “His body is almost mended,” Liam said. “There will likely be scarring, but that is better than the alternative.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Call upon your magic, Gray. It is almost time.”

  Letting my eyes drift closed, I sought the magic within me, urging the gentle warmth to a flame, pushing it outward through my limbs. In my mind’s eye, I saw the black streaks cover my hands, slowly igniting into the blue flames I’d come to associate with my Death magic. It was hard to remember a time that I’d feared this power, that I’d recoiled from it in shame. It came so easy now, as natural a part of my being as any other.

  “Good,” Liam said. “You’re doing great. Continue to follow my voice. I will guide you through the next steps.” His voice was soothing and calm, easy to follow, like drifting down a warm and lazy river in the summer. “Use your power to tap into the source. Draw more magic into you.”

  I did as he asked, just like I’d done earlier when I’d been struggling with Jonathan. It took even less time now; the source seemed to be expecting my return, and eagerly connected with my magic, filling me to the absolute limits. My physical body began to vibrate, my
heart racing, my teeth chattering, but I held steady.

  “You’re incredible, Gray,” Liam said. “Now, you’ll soon reach a point where you feel as if you’ll absolutely burst if you take in even one more modicum of magic. Are you close?”

  “I’m there,” I said, my voice quavering. “I can’t… hold… much longer…”

  “You can, Gray. And you must,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Actually, you must take even more. Push past your perceived limitations, Gray. Emilio’s life depends on it.”

  I obeyed without question, drawing more magic toward my center, pulling it up through my chest, pushing it into my heart and lungs, my veins, filling myself beyond capacity. Brightness surged before my eyes, and I didn’t have to open them to know that the light was coming from my own skin, barely able to contain this much power. My heart was now beating so rapidly it sounded like a snare drum in my ears, but I kept my breathing steady. Calm. Balanced. Even as every inch of me wanted to explode—to scream, to tear, to burst apart at the seams and unleash this magic.

  But still, I held on.

  Still, I drew more. I drank it in deep, fraying my nerves, grating my bones, squeezing my cells.

  “You are almost there, Gray. Hold on.”

  I nodded, too afraid that opening my mouth now would let loose some of the magic.

  “Okay,” he continued. “When I give you the signal, I want you to open your eyes, smash the moonglass, and channel all of that magic into sending Emilio’s soul back to his earthly vessel—just like we talked about. Can you do that?”

  I nodded again, despite the dizziness making my head swim. My entire body was simply humming with magic, buzzy like a live wire after a rainstorm.

  “Now, Gray!” Liam shouted. “Now!”

  My eyes flew open, and I smashed the moonglass on the ground beside me. Emilio’s soul spiraled outward, the purest silver-white I’d ever seen, so beautiful and breathtaking it brought tears to my eyes.

  “Reach out for him, Gray. You must let him know you’re here.”

  I blinked rapidly, refocusing, corralling the wild magic inside me. Lifting my hands, I sent out a concentrated pulse, guiding it around the silvery mist of his soul, urging the two energetic forces to connect. At first, I felt nothing—saw nothing—and a flare of panic rose in my chest.

  But I ushered it out, quickly re-centering myself. This magic was mine. I could bend it to my will, direct it to my ends, guide it to bring back the man I loved. I had faith in myself, just as Liam had in me.

  I relaxed, slowly increasing the pulse of my magic. It was a struggle to control it, but I held on. Familiar blue flames engulfed my hands again, surging bright, and I extended those flames, guiding them around his soul. At first, the mist recoiled, but then it finally stilled.

  “Emilio,” I said, pushing past the tremor in my voice. “It’s me. Gray. Your brujita. I love you so, so much. Please come back to me. Follow the sound of my voice, and come back to yourself.”

  “Good,” Liam said. “Keep talking.”

  “You have nothing to fear,” I told Emilio. “I will guide you every step of the way. But you need to want this, El Lobo. You need to want to come to your family. Me, Ronan, Asher, Darius, and Liam, too. Elena and her partners. The witches we saved from the prison. All of us are waiting for you at home. Your sister is already preparing a big feast. Empanadas, I’m told.” I kept talking, reminding him of all the guys, of the things we’d done together, the things we’d yet to do, the jokes we’d shared. Only good things. The sweetest moments, the happiest times, the love and camaraderie we’d all been building together. The moments, both big and small, that had bonded us together and made us a found family in the truest sense.

  “You and the others found me,” I reminded him. “Twice—when I’d first arrived in Blackmoon Bay, scared and alone. And more recently, after I’d lost Sophie. You helped me put the pieces back together, Emilio. You’ve healed my heart in ways you can’t even imagine. Well, now it’s my turn to come out and find you. To bring you home to us where you belong. So please don’t make my job harder, El Lobo. Or you’re going to owe me twice as many brownies later.”

  I didn’t stop, not even to take a breath. For what felt like hours, I spoke to my beloved wolf, weaving a story of love and hope and friendship, of family and laughter, of joy, each shared memory a breadcrumb for him to pick up and follow home.

  I spoke until my body was numb from lack of movement. And then, finally, when my voice was cracking and my tongue thick, I felt the change.

  The magic inside me heated, and the air stirred, lifting the loose curls from my face and enveloping me in the familiar scents of trees and fresh-baked sweetness that could only belong to one man.

  Tears spilled down my cheeks, and the words of my stories turned into a spell, coming to me unbidden, but absolutely welcome.

  I am your guide

  And you are my love

  In body and spirit

  Below and above

  Blood follows heart

  And heart follows soul

  What was once torn apart

  Shall now be made whole

  I repeated the spell a dozen times, visualizing Emilio’s soul returning to his body, just like Liam had instructed. Even when my voice had finally given out and my throat was throbbing and raw, still I said the words, no more than whispers of breath now, finally fading out as the last of the magic and strength left my body.

  On my final word, I collapsed, falling backward onto the ground, my eyes glazed, the glittery night sky a swirl of blue and white overhead.

  I took deep, cool breaths of night air, waiting for my body to come back to itself. To stop its vicious trembling. To still.

  I did not even have the strength to turn my head or ask Liam whether we’d succeeded.

  But then, I felt the warmth of Liam’s touch on my cheek. Slowly, his face came into focus, his all-knowing eyes looking down at me, shining with something that looked a lot like pride.

  “Gray, you did it. You did it.”

  Before I could even return his smile, darkness descended, and thick, black smoke settled over us like a cloak. The ground beneath me rumbled, making my stomach pitch, my head spin. I tried to sit up, but couldn’t—some force far greater than my own weakness was holding me down, sitting on my chest like an invisible monster, crushing the breath from my lungs.

  I couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. For the longest seconds of my life, there was only fear, rising inside me like a new fire, ready to consume everything in its path.

  And then, in the wake of seemingly utter chaos, a spark of hope.

  The darkness pulled back, revealing the stars once again, and all at once, the sounds came rushing back.

  Another breeze, stirring me back to life.

  A sharp intake of breath from the body beside me.

  A rattling cough.

  Another deep breath, this one more steady than the last.

  And the faint sound of a familiar name, the most beautiful music I’d ever heard.

  “Querida? Is that you?”

  Thirteen

  LIAM

  The earthquake in Gray’s realm was merely a warning. I had just enough time to send Gray and Emilio back to the material plane before the ground before me split wide open, trees toppling into the gash, the stone altar cracking in two. The pentacle-carved slab on top slid to the ground and shattered. The stars winked out, and darkness veiled the moon, turning the realm a murky gray.

  And then they arrived.

  From the newly formed chasm in the forest floor, a smoky essence emerged, dark and dense, its presence turning the air acrid, burning my eyes and my flesh, sending me to my knees.

  It was nothing I hadn’t expected. I just hadn’t realized it would be so excruciating.

  Known only as the Old One, the essence was nothing and many things all at once. Eternity. Power. Emptiness. Completion. The void. The end, the beginning, and everything in between.

 
And, for all intents and purposes, my maker.

  The Old One surrounded me, filled me, claimed my breath. Its formless voice was both singular and infinite, slicing through my mind and echoing in my skull, the raw, uncut power of it nearly shattering my vessel’s bones.

  “Lord of Shadows,” the voices boomed. “It is long since we have last spoken. Longer still since we have been called to investigate the breaking of one of our most sacred laws.”

  It was an accusation, not a greeting, and though my instincts forced me to bow my head in deference to my superior, I wasted no time with return pleasantries.

  “I could not let him pass into the Shadowrealm as such,” I stated plainly, eyes downcast. “He is tied to her destiny in ways we cannot yet fathom, even with the gift of foresight.”

  “It matters not,” came the emotionless reply. “He was to pass on. That was his destiny. The destiny of your witch is irrelevant.”

  “My witch, if you must call her so, is the Silversbane heir. She loves this man, and he loves her. I could not in good conscience allow that bond to be broken in such a way. Both of them deserve better.”

  “You are Death and Shadow, Lord of these lands and ferrier of souls between realms. Conscience does not concern you. Nor do the specifics of prophecies, Silversbane or otherwise, nor the emotional frailties of a witch who, for all the power inherent in her blood, is still scarcely more than a child.”

  At this, I got to my feet. The Old One had the power and right to scold me, to banish me, to torture me, as was their way in the face of abject disobedience. But I would not let them speak of Gray so dismissively. Not while I still had strength left in my vessel to defend her.

  “The woman you call a child,” I said, struggling to keep my tone respectful, “is destined to prevent the slaughter of thousands. Millions. Humans, vampires, shifters, fae, witches, countless others—your children. All of us would be wise to support her.”