Chapter 56
Chapter 56
It began with silence.
Not the peaceful kind—but the unnatural stillness that made Nyra’s instincts flare. She paused at the archway overlooking the west courtyard, her bow half-drawn, the air sharp with the scent of ash.
“Something’s wrong,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing.
Beside her, the shapeshifter—still in her semi-shifted form, claws like ivory sickles—tilted her head. “The birds stopped.”
Elise emerged behind them, her coat flapping in the breeze. She had barely spoken all morning. But now she looked toward the woods, lips parting slightly.
“Move,” she said. “Now.”
The arrow struck before the sentence finished—humming through the air, aimed with deadly precision.
Nyra caught it mid-flight.
The impact shuddered through her arm. Her eyes widened. “Silver-fused wood. Only one person forges these—”
“—the sisters are here,” Elise finished, face paling.
The Manor gates exploded open, torn from their hinges in a burst of green fire. Trees groaned. Roots ripped from the earth. The shapeshifter snarled and leapt down from the balcony, her body shifting midair into a lioness streaked with black smoke.
They came in waves.
Five of them. The sister witches of EastCity—clad in crimson and bone, eyes alight with cursefire.
At their center strode Caryne.
Hair braided tight. Skin smeared with ash and war paint. Her hands were already glowing with layered spells, and her eyes locked instantly on Luca emerging from the east hall, sword unsheathed.
“I want him,” she said flatly. “Alive, if possible.”
Nyra loosed her first arrow.
The battle began.
—
The courtyard exploded into chaos.
Emilia reached the threshold of the Manor’s main staircase just as the first wave of magic hit. Dust rained down from the beams above. Vivienne came sprinting from the lower levels, blades drawn.
“Elise and the others are out there!” Vivienne shouted. “We have to hold them back!”
Seraphine leaned heavily against Emilia, still recovering from the ritual’s disruption. “Don’t split up. They’ll isolate us.”
“We don’t have a choice.”
They burst out into the central atrium just as a thunderclap of spellwork shattered one of the stained-glass windows. Flames licked the rafters. Luca and Caryne were locked in a vicious duel—her spear crackling with siphoned blood magic, his sword glowing with the energy of the Sanctuary’s oath.
“You’re still weak, Alpha,” Caryne taunted, her strikes blindingly fast. “You’ve spent too long under Emilia’s leash.”
“I’m stronger because of her,” Luca snapped back, blade meeting her spear with a shriek of sparks.
They moved like predators. Caryne spun low, sweeping Luca off his feet with a burst of wind. He landed hard—but rolled just in time to block the next blow. Her spear pinned his sword arm to the ground.
“You’re not getting back up,” she said, raising her other hand.
He spat blood. “You’re right. I’m pulling you down with me.”
He surged upward with his free hand and grabbed her wrist. Energy pulsed from his grip—burning white-hot. Caryne screamed and reeled back, her palm scorched. Luca scrambled to his feet, but the burn had cost him. He swayed, vision swimming.
—
Meanwhile, the shapeshifter roared in lion form, slamming one of the witches—Isolde—against the stone steps. Isolde retaliated with a snap of icy chains, binding the lioness midair. Nyra ducked a searing orb of flame and sent a charged arrow through a second witch’s shoulder.
“Fall back!” Nyra shouted. “Regroup at the high hall!”
“No!” Elise growled, her hand pressed against a glowing glyph on the wall. “We lure them in. Trap them in the moon chamber. That’s where the runes are strongest.”
She pressed harder. The glyph flashed. Hidden walls began to shift—mechanisms centuries old grinding open to reveal a corridor that glowed with light.
One of the witches—Alira, the bone-reader—broke toward Elise, her hands twisting around a brittle wand carved from her own rib.
“I see your secrets, traitor,” she hissed. “That cursed blackbird will sing your death.”
“I already sang it,” Elise snapped—and with a swift gesture, she pulled her dagger and carved into her own tattoo.
The blackbird flared on her neck—then vanished.
The magic that bound her to Calista shattered in a burst of dark smoke.
Alira screamed—but Elise was already moving, faster than fury.
—
Emilia, Seraphine, and Vivienne reached the corridor as Nyra dove in behind them, covering the retreat. The lioness limped through next, bleeding but snarling. Luca staggered in last, one eye nearly swollen shut.
“They’re regrouping,” Nyra gasped, slamming the rune-door shut behind them. “We have minutes.”
“Then we make them count,” Emilia said, her power shimmering like a second skin. “They’re not just here for Luca or me. Calista wants the Sanctuary. And she’s using them to tear it apart.”
Seraphine wiped blood from her lip. “Then let’s burn them out.”
Vivienne grinned. “Now that’s the Seraphine I know.”
Outside the sealed chamber, the witches howled.