Chapter 98 The Iron Room

Chapter 98 The Iron Room
The air in the infirmary tasted like ozone. It was the sharp, metallic tang of a thunderstorm that hadn't broken yet, thick and heavy on the tongue.

I was the storm.

"Everyone out!" Abel roared, his voice cutting through the rising hum of static electricity. "Get the staff clear! Now!"

Dr. Vance scrambled backwards, his white coat flapping as a gust of wind, wind that had no source, swirled around the room, scattering papers and overturning trays. 

A glass beaker on the counter vibrated until it shattered, the shards dancing across the linoleum like ice skaters.

"I can't stop it," I choked out. My voice sounded wrong. Warped. Like two people speaking at once.

I was curled on the bed, my knees pressed to my chest, my hands clamped over my ears. The noise inside my head was deafening. 

It wasn't a voice. It was the roar of a rushing river, the crash of a tidal wave against a cliff. It was power, raw, unrefined, and endless, flooding into the space where the curse used to be.

"Freya!" Abel shouted, shielding his eyes as the overhead lights popped one by one, showering the room in sparks and darkness.

"We cannot stay here!" Freya yelled back, her hair whipping around her face. She was standing near the door, her hands raised, trying to weave a containment barrier, but the violet light radiating from my skin was eating through her magic like acid. "The structure is compromised! She is going to bring the ceiling down!"

"Where do we go?" Abel demanded. He took a step toward me, but the air around the bed rippled, pushing him back with a wall of heat.

"The Iron Room," Freya said, her eyes wide and fearful. "The training bunker in the sub-basement. It is reinforced with silver and lead. It is the only place that might hold the blast if she... if she detonates."

Detonates.

The word echoed in my mind, terrifying and distinct. I wasn't a person anymore. I was a bomb. Kane had turned me into a weapon, suppressed the fuse for three years, and now he had lit it from miles away.

"I can't move," I sobbed, squeezing my eyes shut. "If I move, I’ll hurt someone. I’ll kill you."

"You won't," Abel said.

He didn't ask permission this time. He didn't hesitate. He dove through the shimmering heat haze surrounding the bed.

I felt his arms go around me.

"No!" I screamed.

The contact was instantaneous and violent. A shockwave blasted outward, blowing the infirmary door off its hinges. The metal frame crumpled like foil.

Abel grunted, his teeth clenched tight, but he didn't let go. He scooped me up against his chest, shielding my face with his shoulder. I could smell singed fabric. I was burning him. The magic pouring off my skin was hot enough to blister, but he held me as if I were made of glass.

"I've got you," he growled into my ear. "Hold on to me, Evelyn. Don't let go."

He turned and ran.

We burst into the hallway. The corridor was chaos. Nurses and guards were scrambling away from the infirmary, shouting orders. When they saw us, they froze.

I must have looked like a nightmare. Clinging to their Alpha, my skin glowing with a blinding, violet incandescence, sparks arching off my hair to strike the metal railings along the walls.

"Clear the hall!" Abel bellowed, his command carrying the full weight of his Alpha authority.

The wolves didn't need to be told twice. They threw themselves against the walls, covering their heads.

As we passed, the lights in the ceiling exploded in sequence, raining glass down behind us. The framed paintings on the walls rattled and fell. The carpet beneath Abel's feet began to smoke.

"Alpha, what is, " a young guard started to ask, stepping forward stupidly.

"Back!" Freya shrieked from behind us.

A bolt of violet lightning arced from my elbow. It struck a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall next to the guard. The metal canister exploded with a deafening bang, filling the corridor with white chemical fog.

The guard yelled, diving for cover.

"I'm sorry!" I cried, burying my face in Abel’s neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Don't apologize," Abel panted, sprinting toward the heavy steel door that led to the stairwell. "Just breathe. Try to keep it in. Just a little longer."

He kicked the stairwell door open. It flew back and embedded itself in the drywall.

We went down.

Every step Abel took was heavy, jarring. I could feel the strain in his muscles. I wasn't just heavy physically; the magic was adding mass, density. The air around us felt like we were moving through deep water.

Down one flight. The air grew cooler.

Down another. The concrete walls here were thicker, unfinished.

"Almost there," Abel gritted out. Sweat was pouring down his face, mixing with the soot from the exploded lights.

We reached the sub-basement. This was the level of the house few people ever saw. It was where they kept the armory, the heavy supplies, and the cells for wolves who lost control of their beasts.

At the end of the long concrete corridor was a massive, circular door. It looked like the entrance to a bank vault.

"Open it!" Abel shouted.

Freya rushed past us, her hands moving in a flurry of gestures. She slapped her palm against the bio-lock. The heavy tumblers inside the door groaned, grinding metal on metal.

Slowly, agonizingly, the door hissed and swung inward.

The room inside, the Iron Room, was stark. Floor-to-ceiling silver plating. No windows. No furniture. Just a drain in the center of the floor and heavy chains hanging on the far wall, unused for years.

Abel didn't stop. He carried me into the center of the room and set me down.

As soon as my feet touched the silver-plated floor, the entire room hummed. The metal was reacting to me, vibrating in sympathy.

"Go!" I gasped, backing away from him. I could feel the pressure building behind my eyes, a headache so sharp it blinded me. "Get out! Lock the door!"

"I am not leaving you," Abel said, straightening up. His shirt was scorched where I had touched him. His skin was red and angry.

"You have to!" I screamed. The sound came out as a roar, distorted and terrifying.

A pulse of energy rippled out from me. It hit the silver walls and bounced back.

Feedback.

Freya had miscalculated. The silver wasn't dampening the magic; it was containing it, reflecting it. The energy had nowhere to go. It was filling the room like water filling a tank, the pressure rising with every second.

"Abel, get back!" Freya yelled from the doorway. "The silver, it’s reflecting the surge! It’s going to amplify the blast!"

"Freya, seal the door!" Abel ordered, standing his ground.

"If I seal it with you inside, you will die!" Freya argued, her voice high with panic. "The concentration of magic in there will be toxic! It will stop your heart!"

"Seal it!" Abel roared.

I looked at him. He stood ten feet away, his chest heaving, his silver eyes locked on mine. He wasn't looking at the monster. He was looking at his wife.

"Abel, please," I begged, the tears evaporating off my cheeks before they could fall. "I can't control it. It’s going to kill you."

"Then let it," he said softly.

The air between us crackled. The violet light intensified, turning white at the core. The sound of the rushing wind became a high-pitched whine.

Freya let out a frustrated cry. She slammed her hand against the control panel on the outside wall.

The massive vault door began to swing shut.

"No!" I shouted, reaching out to stop it, to push Abel out.

But as I extended my hand, the dam broke completely.

I didn't just release a spark. I released everything.

A blinding column of pure, white energy erupted from my body. It slammed into the ceiling, into the floor, into the walls.

The last thing I saw before the world dissolved into white fire was Abel. He didn't run. He didn't cover his face.

He stepped forward, right into the heart of the explosion.

Then the heavy iron door slammed shut with a final, tomb-like clang, sealing us in the dark.

A.N
HAPPY NEW YEAR, READERS.