WILLOW

Gray and I went our separate ways after getting ready for the day. He went to his classroom, that he insisted on holding onto for the time

being, and I found myself wandering outside toward the gardens.

In light of our conversation that morning, I needed to ground myself utilizing the earth.

I needed the reminder of my mother, the reminder of the joy my family had brought me.

I hadn’t considered the possibility of kids before, but did I want to never claim that for myself? I’d have been lying if my ideal world didn’t involve bringing Ash to Crystal Hollow when we somehow found a way to calm the dissent between the archdemons and the coven.

The Choice would no longer be necessary for him, not when I’d already fulfilled the destiny the previous Covenant had been trying to prevent.

The flowers surrounded me as I strolled through them, swaying toward me in the hopes that I would make an offering. I held out an arm, allowing the stems to wrap around my forearm and tighten until they drew blood. They retreated after only a taste, slinking back into the garden beds. The wounds around my arm were like a delicate rope, the skin shimmering and healing before my eyes. There was something so reassuring about the familiarity of the gardens taking what they needed, reminding me that through all the changes, that one thing held true.

This was where I belonged.

I ran my fingertip over a flower’s petals, letting its texture sink inside me. The gardens had flourished with life since I’d arrived, a return of

something that never should have left. Michael flitted through my mind, and I couldn’t help the surge of guilt with not telling Gray about his brother’s interference. He’d told me there was no place in Heaven for me, that my soul had been sold to the Devil from the moment of my birth for the way I corrupted the Source.

Only this didn’t feel like corruption. This felt like harmony, like two halves of one whole that should have always been united together.

Not with Gray, but with the Earth that was mine and the Source that I could reach out and touch with only a thought.

I smiled, feeling the cool breeze floating off the water as it reached me in the garden. The cliffs in the distance were covered in mist, the prisms of the crystal bays below hidden from view. Beyond those cliffs lay the cemetery that was now mostly empty, only the Green witches buried within it who had now been freed from their coffins.

I headed toward that ground unwillingly, my feet taking me toward the other half of my heritage. I felt the pulsing magic of the Greens spreading through the earth there, the ground above their burial site, a mass of wildflowers and fresh, green grass that wouldn’t stop growing.

The magic of those who came before me had finally been returned to where it belonged, and I stepped up to the edge of the cemetery to pay my respects. One day, I’d find a way to return my mother’s body here so that she could be a part of her hometown as well.

For now, I sat down, sinking my hands into the blades of grass. The magic of death and life pulsed in the earth here, carrying through the soil to touch my skin. I heaved a sigh of relief at the magic that spread through my body, clawing at my throat and holding me captive.

But unlike the fear I’d first felt when I touched my necromancy, I no longer feared it. It had become a part of me, joining all the other magic I needed to get acquainted with.

So I immersed myself in it, spreading that magic out further into the earth, touching the natural springs buried deep and sensing the wash of cold flow over my body. The sun in the sky warmed me against that chill, the brightest star burning even in daylight as the cosmic side of my magic stretched up and out. The crystals at the edge of the cliffs felt stiff and unyielding, casting a prism of colors over my vision. There were the faint, burning embers of a flame within the torches that had mainly faded out in daylight, flickering against me like the warmth of a hearth.

The magic of the Reds was more complex for me to tap into, the magic I’d grown up using coming from outside my body. The Reds magic came from within just as much as from within the bodies of those around them. I sank into that place of longing that came whenever I thought of Gray. Of the feeling his hands on my body gave me.

The moment that desire sparked to life, I sucked in a ragged breath. Touching all the parts of the Source at once, I tasted the magic of creation itself. It poured down my throat like phases of the seasons, a pattern that had been there since the dawn of time.

My eyes drifted closed, my breathing slowing until I wasn’t sure if I was even alive or if I had become one with the Source. It was a part of me, coursing through my body and touching every corner. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be Gray, to have lived with this feeling for centuries and still be trapped away from all of it.

I opened my eyes at the snapping of a twig, feeling the crack like it was one of my bones.

The Cursed stepped out from the woods, forcing me to rise to my feet slowly. There were more of them than I’d thought as they stepped into the light. Their figures were just as horrifying as I’d remembered, the slow, unnatural movement of wolves walking on two hairy yet human legs striking deep into my soul.

I could save them. Unmake them the way I had Jonathan, but I knew in my gut that I needed to lay my hands on them for that to work.

There were eleven, and I could not possibly fight them all off at once.

I glanced around at them as they moved, observing the way they spread out through the cemetery. They didn’t come particularly close to me, most of them maintained their distance except for the one who stopped a few feet away.

Widening my stance, I planted my feet shoulder width apart. The magic of the Source flowed through my veins, and I’d spent many, many years fighting for my life in the cages designed to weaken me and belittle me.

The Cursed closest to me stood there, tilting his head forward silently. The move was distinctly submissive, and I studied him as I took a few steps forward.

The ruthless brutality that the Cursed had shown me in my first attempt at escape was gone as all the others did the same, mimicking his posture as I came close enough to touch. I swallowed, meeting the intensity of his

gaze. He made no move to touch me, remaining perfectly still, and I wondered if he wanted me to free him. If they somehow knew of what I’d done for Jonathan…

I reached up a trembling hand, touching it to the side of his face. His fur was rough beneath my palm, coarse where I wanted it to be smooth.

His eyes closed as I tried to call to the same black magic I’d pulled on to free Jonathan.

What answered was different, stronger, with a mind of its own. The Source of all magic rose up in me, entwined into one living, breathing magic that demanded the sacrifice it had been offered. I tried to pull my hand back quickly, removing myself, when the eyes of the Cursed being widened. All at once, the others mimicked the motion, panic in their faces as if they too felt the pull of whatever I’d summoned.

The Cursed in front of me grasped me by the wrist, holding me still so that I could not take my hand away. “Stop,” I whispered, but he nodded as if he understood what was coming.

Only I didn’t.

The legs of the Cursed twisted into the roots of a tree, anchoring him to the ground as he yowled in pain. Still, he did not release me. Not even when branches burst free from his torso, splattering his blood and flesh all over the greenery that followed. Leaves budded on the branches that came from him as he finally released me, sending me stumbling back to fall onto my ass.

His body faded from view entirely, engulfed by the hedge that formed in a circle. It moved to the next Cursed, until one by one it swallowed them all whole. Bursting free from their bodies, the maze that appeared in front of me was far too familiar.

I walked around the perimeter, wincing when I took in the sight of each head of The Cursed where they remained mounted at the top of the pillars that formed the maze. Their eyes were blank and unseeing, their lives given to the Source that surged anew with their offering. I hurried, running the full circle of the maze. There were three openings, three paths, that I knew would go to the center if I could get a bird’s eye view of it.

I knew because it was the same symbol I’d branded onto Gray’s chest when I marked him as mine.

I stumbled to a stop in front of the entrance that had appeared before me, staring up at the wolfish, dead face of the Cursed that I had touched.

I swallowed back my fear, the trepidation of what the Source was trying to tell me.

And I stepped into the maze.