Page 204 of Heir of Broken Souls

Easton.

Annie.

Eleanor.

Ace.

Me.

Because he took me, too.

He stole my soul; he held me captive and broke me down day by day with his fists and his words. He has done everything in his power to utterly crush me, and this is my revenge. This is my vengeance against the monster that tried to destroy me from the inside out.

I am standing and I am fighting.

He has not broken me.

“You do not have power over me,” I declare as my wings take me to him.

I find Peter within a swirl of his own darkness, stewing with hatred. This close, his power parts for my golden one. His neck flushes crimson, a vein pulsing along his forehead.

I land in front of him, placing the twin dragon swords across his neck as my golden magic latches onto his wrists and ankles, keeping him captive. The way fury fills his eyes is like no other. It is a wine I want to get drunk on every day, a power that floods my veins.

It is a look I capture within my mind to never forget. It is the look of defeat in my enemy’s gaze.

Where the blades meet his skin, black blood spills, and small golden ambers spark within the cut, making him cry out in pain.

“I hope this hurts,” I whisper, seconds before I drag the blade across his neck, the dragons glowing gold as the sword begins to light with?—

“If you kill me, you’ll never find Knox!” he screeches.

The blades stop moving entirely. My canines flare.

“You’re lying!”

I run along the bridge of my mind, not waiting for his answer. I call for him, only to find his mind sealed tight, shrouded in shadows. The bond is flooded with tightness and pain.

How could I not feel this before?

How could I not feel the agony of him?

What type of magic did he use against him?

Peter flicks his fingers in my grasp, summoning a portal that swirls behind his shoulder as dozens—no,hundreds—of demonic hounds flank me with blades. The sight makes my stomach turn but my magic remains fighting for me when my heart no longer can.

Peter heaves, clutching his neck as he uses dark magic to heal the cut, but I note it doesn’t fully heal. A faint golden scarslices across his neck now, the mark of the golden witch.

Axel cries out from somewhere behind me, still pinned to the tree as we look through the portal the dark lord has created.

Through it, Knox kneels, with his arms and ankles chained in iron. Surrounded by a horde of demonic creatures, they whip, cut, strike, and slash his battered body within the iron that leaves him utterly helpless.

Tears spring into my eyes.

My heart stops beating.

My chest constricts.

My knees buckle.