Chapter Eight
343 Words
Elara slumped in the estate’s library, the Nightclaw poison burning through her veins. The silver dagger glowed faintly, as if urging her to fight. Gideon knelt beside her, his hand gripping hers, the bond a lifeline against the cold creeping into her bones. “Hold on,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “We need you.”
Lila guarded the door, her eyes scanning the shadows. “Whatever you’re doing, do it fast. Renn’s betrayal means Torin’s close.”
Elara clutched Seraphine’s journal, its pages open to the protective spell. Her vision blurred, but a spark flared within her her mother’s witch blood. She closed her eyes, and a figure appeared in her mind: her mother, young and fierce, her eyes glowing with magic. “Trust the silver, Elara,” she said. “Channel the ley lines. You’re stronger than you know.”
Elara’s voice trembled as she chanted, “By blood and earth, by will and light, shield this land from shadowed might.” The dagger pulsed, its runes blazing. She pressed her bleeding palm to the floor, feeling Silver Hollow’s ley lines hum. The bond with Gideon surged, anchoring her as the spell took hold. The poison burned away, her strength returning in a rush of heat.
A scream tore through the estate magic, dark and jagged, shattering windows. Rogue witches, cloaked in shadow, appeared at the courtyard’s edge, their eyes glowing like Torin’s allies. “The mate dies,” one hissed, hurling a bolt of black energy. Gideon shifted, deflecting it with a roar, while Lila and the Silverfangs charged.
Elara kept chanting, the ley lines flaring. The dagger grew hot, and a dome of light rose over the estate, repelling the witches’ magic. The spell completed, sealing Silver Hollow’s borders, but Elara collapsed, her strength drained. Gideon caught her, his eyes fierce with pride and fear. “You did it,” he said. “But they’re not done.”
The witches retreated, but their laughter echoed. Torin was coming, and Elara’s magic had just made her his prime target.
- Writer
