Page 109 of Rafe

“The prophecy is complete.” She glanced down into the swirling portal.

“The prophecy is complete? What does that even mean?” Rafe rushed toward her as she stepped backwards.

“You are the prophecy. Always remember you have my magick inside you.”

“Ilsbeth. What are you doing? Come on. Step away from the edge.” Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest as he realized her intention. “Greyson. What are you doing? Go get her. Go on.”

Rafe’s heart caught in his chest as the vampire shook his head.

“What? No! Come on, you guys. Ilsbeth. We’ll find another way,” he pleaded.

“The vessel must be returned. You are the prophecy. It was your destiny, Alpha. All of it.” Tears ran down her cheeks as she gave him a sad smile. “This is mine.”

Flames shot up into the air as Rafe ran toward Ilsbeth. Greyson materialized in his path, stopping him, clutching onto one of his arms as the High Priestess fell backwards into the swirling portal, still holding the vessel.

“Let her go, bud,” Greyson ordered.

“No,” Rafe cried. “How could she do this? After everything, she just kills herself? No. No, this is not happening. What the hell, Greyson? Why didn’t you save her?”

“What the fuck is happening?” Dominique ran up behind him.

“Where’s Ilsbeth?” Thorn asked, confusion in his expression.

“Where’s Skylar?” The world stood still as the silence of the desert resounded louder than a sonic boom. Not a creature made a sound.

Rafe searched the sky, his pulse racing at the sight of the ravens flying miles away, disappearing into the distance.

“Skylar!” Rafe reached for her with his mind, but she was gone, not a trace of her energy remained behind.

The earth rumbled beneath his feet as the edges of the portal sealed shut. His heart ached for his mate. “I’ve got to go find her now.”

Rafe stood at the water’s edge staring out onto Jackson Lake beneath a waxing gibbous moon. The fresh cool air calmed his lungs, his wolf content to run for a night. He’d been back home with his old pack, Hunter’s pack. Although it had been good to catch up, he’d decided to take that trip he’d long planned. Tomorrow he’d set off to the single most important location on earth.

His wolf paced, wild with craving for its mate. It had been four days since Skylar had reached her parent’s home in Washington. She’d sent him a text from her new phone to let him know she was safe but didn’t mention if or when she’d wanted to see him.

Though tempted to see her, to say all the words that needed to be said, he’d resisted. Guilt threaded through him. She’d never asked to receive magick from the High Priestess. But it was clear whatever spell Ilsbeth wielded, the bond remained and Skylar had been touched with his shifter magick. In exchange for removing the vampire, the Goddess magick had bespelled Skylar.

It had been Rafe’s choice to give Skylar space to adjust to her new reality. In truth, he needed to sort things with Hunter. They’d had a long talk, and both agreed that when he was ready, he’d lead a new pack one day.

Greyson had been cagey, refusing to say the words, Ilsbeth is dead. Despondent, he’d left for Europe. Rafe wasn’t certain if the ancient vampire couldn’t accept the reality of losing her or that Ilsbeth would always be the one who got away.

Rafe considered his relationship with the High Priestess, her self-sacrifice choosing to take her sister out of this realm. Though he mourned her loss, she’d always be with him. Her magick lingered within his soul, adding a layer to his emerging Alpha energy.

Rafe smiled as he looked toward the heavens. He’d never been wrong about Ilsbeth. Though she hadn’t been his biological mother, she cared about him as much as his pack. Viktor and Ilsbeth had saved him once, surely knowing it could result in the realization of the prophecy. She’d saved him a second time, separating the vampiric magick from his wolf. In an act of contrition, garnering the karma she’d never be able to cash, she’d willingly given her own life and saved the world.

21

Skylar’s fingertips danced over the piano keys. Though it had been years since she’d played, it was like riding a bike, her legato reflective of her strokes. Beethoven’s Für Elise, rhythmic and smooth, an infinitely recurring melody, lulled her into a meditation of sorts.

It had been nearly a week since she’d come home from Nevada. With her heart broken, it had been her choice to leave without saying goodbye. A quick text had been a cop-out but after everything that had happened, she needed time to process her own reality.

Her mom and dad didn’t ask many questions when she arrived, and she’d kept her newfound abilities a secret. She couldn’t find the words because she couldn’t explain it herself. The one person who could have helped her understand what happened had perished. Ilsbeth.

The Prophecy. The High Priestess had been correct all along. But she’d concealed the big secret. Her death. In an ultimate sacrifice, Ilsbeth was forced to return to Hell to ensure Zyaire never escaped the realm again.

Skylar couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. Her heart ached, aware that he’d held a predilection for the witch. He’d mentioned he’d gone back to Wyoming, and she couldn’t bring herself to respond, wondering if he’d find his mate back in his old pack.

Yet every night she’d dreamt of him. In her fantasies, they’d make love until all hours in the night and she’d soar high, watching him run free in the forest. But each morning she woke to a nightmare. No text. No call. No Rafe. It had been what she wanted yet each day her yearning grew stronger and she struggled to think of anything else.