by Luna Pierce
Each of the men to her sides places their hands on her shoulders. Their bodies are locked into place, and a current of energy flows into her.
Deghan bares his teeth and snarls at them. He raises his snout to the sky and calls out once more.
We need backup, and fast.
From the left and the right, two furry flashes whip by.
The smaller golden one sinks it’s muzzle on to Sydney’s father’s leg and breaks him away from Ophelia.
The familiar light-gray one snags Tremont’s torso, severing his tie, too.
I draw in a breath, unsure of having the wolf that tried to kill me and Silas not too long ago here with us.
But there is that saying, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
Close but at a distance in this case. I don’t want that deadly beast anywhere near me.
“What the hell is that?” Sydney stares off into the distance, seemingly at nothing.
“What are you talking about?” Silas grows annoyed when he doesn’t find anything.
Sydney points into the trees. “Right there, glowing and flashing like a neon fucking sign.”
“You’re out of your mind, there’s nothing there.” Silas huffs and balls up his fist.
Upon further inspection, I gasp. There’s no way he could be seeing the same thing I am. Unless… There’s only one way that would be possible.
And if that’s true, we got this all wrong.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sometimes I think I have it all figured out.
But nothing is ever quite what it seems.
And honestly, I don’t mind being proved wrong, especially when the reality of things is better than the narrative we tell ourselves.
This whole time we had suspected Sydney of being descended from the Devil, because of his parents and their darkness.
But putting together all of the pieces, like what Sydney has told us, what his evil mother said about them being cursed with an anomaly, and Sydney having the same very rare sight that I do—I realize now, Sydney is no different than I am.
It’s no wonder she was able to cast him to the wayside so easily.
She never cared for him; she only wanted to use him until he was no longer of service to her.
Because despite being born from her womb, he’s no child of hers.
She disowned him the moment she felt his light and knew that she could not control him.
Sydney isn’t the yin to my yang—my opposite—but yet my equal.
He has angel blood.
The realization fully hits me at the same moment a blasted bolt of power does.
I’m thrown to the ground, knocking into Cameron on the way down. I reach and grasp to stop my fall, but my hands come up short. My head rattles off the hard earth, and everything fades to black.
“Child,” a voice calls out through the darkness.
A beaming light comes into focus. A familiar set of white wings appear, attached to a gloriously perfect being.
“You know what you must do,” the angel sings.
“Please,” I beg. “You have to help me.”
It’s then that an image comes into focus, and a strange and sudden epiphany floats through me. It’s like I knew all along, but something helped guide me toward the recognition.
“That is all I may offer you, the rest you must do yourself.”
I reach out toward the celestial presence but am snapped into reality by the shaking of my shoulders and Cameron calling my name.
“Willow, Christ, I thought you were dead.”
I glance at his body, noting the lack of protection. When I was knocked unconscious, it must have broken the protective spell. I grip his arm and force it back into place.
“I need to get that woman’s blood.” I shift my focus across the forest where she stands, rocking back and forth to avoid the blasts of power from Sydney and Silas. “Where’s Deghan?”
Cameron sighs. “Another person appeared, the one who struck you. Deg went after them.”
I hop up with Cam’s support and pull my energy to the forefront. “I’m going to have to get close to her.”
“What do you plan on doing with the blood?” Silas says between attacks.
“I’m going to use it to break the curse.”
Sydney glances over his shoulder at me. “You know how?”
I nod and whisper into his ear exactly what I need him to do.
Out of breath and fatigued, Ophelia slowly retreats.
I take the opportunity to step forward. “How about we do this one on one? There’s no need for you to hurt my friends.”
She stops throwing her magic and dodges the last of purple that goes her way.
“Trust me,” I mouth to the guys.
How many times have I said that one, though?
Pretty sure the last time I did, I ended up dying inside my own mind.
Ophelia glides toward me until we’re about ten feet apart. She raises an eyebrow. “Feeling a bit confident, are we?” Her eyes are nearly black, matching the color of her hair well.
“If it’s me you want, it’s me you’ll get.”
“Fair enough,” she retorts.
“You think you understand anything about fair?” I watch her carefully to try to anticipate her first move.
“You think you’re so smart, Willow Oliver.” She shakes her head. “This started before me, and it will go on once we’re both gone. This feud between the angel and demon coven, it will never end. It goes deeper than anything you or I could ever have control over.”
I breathe in deeply, the scent of the earthy area filling my lungs. “You’re power-hungry. That’s all it is. You’re naturally weak and you need powerful witches like me to leech off of. It’s pathetic, really.”
“If it weren’t for your lowlife bloodline, this would have never started. The Olivers are to blame for this, Willow. Don’t you see that? I’m strictly only carrying on the family tradition. Because I am loyal. Something the Olivers appreciate nothing about.” Her jaw becomes tense with the anger setting in.
“Whatever. Project your blame if it makes you feel any better about being a shitty person. It’s safe to say we’re all aware of the truth.” I glance over my shoulder. I part my lips ever so slightly and mouth the word, “Now,” so quietly it’s nearly inaudible. Only one set of ears will be able to hear me, and that’s all that matters.
I slam two fistfuls of paralyzingly pink magic into her, and a split second later, Silas rushes her.
He glides by so fast the shock hasn’t even registered on her face.
My magic rendered her motionless, while he ran by and sliced her arm with his fangs, leaving a pooling of blood on the ground.
Rage consumes her, and it’s not long until she breaks free of my restraints.
But I expected that much.
I take a step back, letting her think that she’s going to best me, but all I’m doing is leading her away from the mess she left on the bare soil.
Ophelia fires at me, and I narrowly miss it. Just like in my training sessions with Ruby, I forget to watch for the follow-up. The black sizzling power slamming me in the gut.
That I did not anticipate.
I heave and nearly lose my lunch.
Another blow, knocking my shoulder this time. Pain rips through me, but I don’t let her attention fall to anything else.
I slam a few rapid-fire orbs at her, missing each time.
All I have to do is keep her distracted.
A whoosh of wind, and Silas appears by my side.
“You have to help him,” I urge.
“You need me more.” Silas grabs my hand and places it on his shoulder. “Hurry.”
I siphon some of his energy, already more revitalized with each passing pulse.
Ophelia laughs. “Wow. She’s your Malachi. You’re a special one, aren’t you, Willow? Shame, though, that I’m going to kill you both, and fate has no control over that.”
“Actually, Mother
,” Sydney chimes in. “Your fate has already been decided.” Syd slams her over the head with a large branch, knocking her unconscious.
I guess a little old-fashioned human brawling comes in handy.
“We need to act fast. I’m not sure how many other goonies she has coming.” Sydney takes the same stick and hands it to me. “You have to draw it.”
I take it from him and drag it along the loose dirt-covered ground, forming a large circle, and then a five-pointed star in the center in one fluid motion—not breaking contact with the earth until I’m finished. “I need Deghan.”
Silas nods and hurries away using his vampire speed.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Sydney frantically looks from his passed-out mother to me.
“It has to.” I gesture to one of the points. “Cam, you there?” The two points facing upward, Sydney and I claim. Now, we wait for the other two pieces of my soul.
The spot of earth where Ophelia’s blood coats the ground is smack dab in the center of the star.
The angel carefully weaved this plan into place, and I’m the vessel to bring it to fruition.
Leaves crumble, and in the time it takes me to blink, Silas is at my side.
“Deghan’s on his way.” He presses his hands to my cheeks and pulls my face close. “I’m so proud of you.
I lean in and push my lips against his, taking the very brief pause to savor in something good.
Deghan runs up in his human form, covered in only a pair of gym shorts. “You rang, princess?”
“Stand there,” I instruct him, then Silas.
He does what he’s told, and together, we make up each section of the star.
I reach out for Sydney’s and Silas’s hands. They follow suit and take Cameron’s and Deghan’s. Each embrace slams a new burst of power through me, and when we’re all connected, a new sort of fire takes hold inside me. A good one. An endless supply of pure magic.
Without really understanding them, words flow from the tip of my tongue. An ancient, long-forgotten language.
The four men who bring me so much love and joy, and the same ones who make me more powerful than I’ve ever been.
Love fuels the Oliver witches, and I hit the freaking motherload.
Ophelia LeBlanc had no idea who she was messing with.
My eyes roll back, and the chant continues. “Oh fallum unghur brota makler vartal.” Nothing makes sense, but I let it flow all the same.
“Shit,” Cameron mutters, distracting me momentarily.
The sound of grumbling fills my ears. She must be waking up.
I recite the words quicker, and a strong wind forms around us.
It goes up, up, up, and then becomes one in the middle above the blood sacrifice. A tiny little tornado threatening to break the hold we have on each other.
“Whh-what? How?” Ophelia blurts out. “No!” She rushes toward us, but once she hits the barrier of the circle, she’s sent flying back from the invisible blockade.
The power whips through me, flowing a solid current from each of our hands into the next. Even Cameron. I don’t understand how it’s possible, but I give in to the blind faith that this is going to work.
Anything is possible in this crazy world we live in.
Ophelia lets out a painfully loud scream, but I don’t break away from the ritual to see what she’s up to.
I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Not until this is finally over.
The small but destructive twister grows stronger and stronger with each deafening octave she shrieks.
Until there’s nothing at all.
No more crying, no windstorm, nothing. Just the silent forest around us.
“Willow.” Deghan pulls me off the ground and into his arms.
A strange freeing sensation floats through my body in a way I’ve never experienced.
But then, a sudden terrible pit forms.
Something that could only remind me of one sinking feeling.
I finally open my eyes and scan the vicinity like a madwoman. “Where…?”
Sydney lowers his head, not wanting to meet my eyes.
I glance at Cameron, and he averts my gaze, too.
Tears menace their way down my already flushed cheeks. “Where is Silas?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Three days have gone by in a stupor of next to no sleep, barely being able to eat, and a painful sadness taking absolute control of me.
I haven’t gone to my classes.
I haven’t given any of my friends the time of day.
I lost the will to live the moment I lost him.
Silas.
The name I cry out at the rare moments I’m able to fall into a forced slumber. The flashes of weakness when my body decides it can no longer take the insomnia. But it’s short-lived. The vision of Silas in a fiery inferno wrecks me every time.
He’s gone.
And with him went a piece of me that I can no longer function without.
I gained all of this power for nothing.
I may have broken the curse, but at what cost?
I have won, but I am defeated.
Glancing around my disaster of a room, I take in the little bits of him left behind.
His dark-gray shirt draped over the chair at the table. The sweatpants he let me borrow that I never gave back… they are far more comfortable than any pair I own. The book on my nightstand that I only got a chance to read a few pages of before disaster after disaster hit. His scent, still lingering on the sheets that I refuse to wash in fear of losing him forever along with it.
A light knock on my door.
“Come in.” My unused voice is scratchy.
Cameron peeks his head inside. “Do you have a minute?”
Tears well in my eyes. Apparently, I have limitless amounts of them that I no longer have any desire for. I nod anyway.
He strolls over and sits next to me on the bed. Handing me a cup of what smells like coffee, he looks me over. “Will…” Cameron tucks a rogue strand of hair behind my ear.
I’m in desperate need of a shower, too.
I sniff the drink, but everything is different now. Things that once appealed to me no longer bring me the same joy.
I’m lost. Swimming in a fog of nothing. Desperately clinging to whatever shred of humanity remains.
Cameron’s ocean-blue eyes meet mine. “I’ve uh… I’ve been in some pretty dark places in the past. Especially recently.” He lets out a breath. “Nothing compared to what you’ve been through, but I’ve come to realize that it takes a kind of sadness to be able to recognize happiness, and you, Willow, you brought this to life for me. You’re kind and caring and considerate and so fucking loving… selfless and strong. Despite everything you’ve been through, you still choose to put one foot in front of the other, and damn if you aren’t an inspiration for me to be a better man. It is an absolute honor to be a part of your world.
“You’ve always been there for me. So, I hope that you realize I’m here for you now. We all are. Whatever you need. We aren’t going to give up on you… not now or ever. We’re going to get through this together.”
Together… all of us… just without Silas.
What’s left of my heart shatters even more.
How can I go on without him? What kind of person am I if I move on? Especially knowing that this was all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself.
And now, all I’m doing is bringing down everyone around me. Dragging them into this dark sadness they never asked for.
They really are better off without me.
With this pitiful realization, the door to my dorm bursts open.
I don’t bother taking my eyes away from the random string I twist between my fingers.
Nothing can distract me from this infinite sadness.
“Willow.” The voice is smooth and calm and comforting, belonging to only one person and one person alone.
Little bits of my heart get glued back together with the one welcoming word.
It’s not Silas, but the other missing piece of me.
“Mom.” I barely spit it out when the tears come raining down.
I’m on my feet and across the room, pulling her into a hug within seconds.
“This isn’t real. Mom?” I continue to sob.
She pats my head and squeezes me tight. “It’s me. I’m here. Oh, sweet Willow. Mommy is here.”
And despite feeling like I had lost it all, her coming back into my life is exactly what I need.
Now, with this tiny bit of life breathed back into my lungs—I know what I must do.
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Thank you for taking the time to read Wicked Magic: Harper Shadow Academy Book Three. I thoroughly enjoyed writing the continuation of Willow and her guys story and I hope you liked it, too!
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Acknowledgments
Wicked Magic broke me. In ways I could never truly put into words. The story poured out of my soul, and I know for a fact that the next installment, Ancient Magic, will wreck me once more.
Consider this my formal apology for the way the book ended. Please don’t hate me!!!!!! There will be two more books to tidy things up and hopefully bring you some smiles instead of tears!
Thank you for sharing this journey with me. For watching and reading along while I rip my heart out of my chest and bleed it on the paper.
To the few people that keep me relatively sane—my tiny human, Victoria, Kate, and Kelsey. I don’t think I’d have gotten this far without you all by my side.
To the insanely wonderful people over at Patreon who support the behind the scenes—I will be forever grateful for your continuous support! Clayton, James, Dustin, Tyler, The Mask Hunter and Victoria—I appreciate you each one of you so damn much.
