Undying Hate | Book Three

Thirty-two | Taken

Magnus stood before the crowd, their wide eyes locked on his as Sylvie blinked tiredly from the ground. She couldn't move. The Turned screamed and tore at the thorny plant barrier as he spoke. 

"I can take you to earth," he gestured to the portal, and they followed his directions with their heads. "We can leave all this behind."

The screams of the Turned bolstered his words, and he smiled. "You will have as much blood as your bodies need, and when you're ready, you may make a life for yourself there. Humans do not believe in our existence beyond stories, and we must keep it that way. Come with me."

His influence was far more potent than Hayes, who howled, cursed, and writhed against Elias' ropes.

"You cannot go with him," Hayes screamed. "I am your king!"

Magnus didn't even face him. Instead, he shepherded the Vampires through the portal and nodded to them as the shifters on the other side took them by hand. They were beside the outer cabins on the fringe of Kian's wards. 

Close to the blood stores. Good. "No, Hayes. Kings protect their people. Come, Kalina."

Sylvie didn't even notice him talking to her until his hands scooped under her legs and upper back.

"It's time to go home."

"Kian?" she searched for him, but her head was too heavy on her neck, and it rolled back.

A gentle hand brushed her hair, and Kian's voice reached her ears. "Right behind you, Princess."

Magnus humphed and carried her through the portal, the journey far smoother than anything she had experienced before.

"You'll pay for this!" Hayes' desperate voice followed behind them, his violent words eventually turning into heinous shrieks as the Turned broke through her barriers. Good riddance. The more likely he was dead, the better, and his pain-filled grunts, followed by the tearing, slurping of flesh and bonemarrow, were like music to her ears. 

She shuddered. Who had she become?

A gust of wind hit them from behind as the portal closed, and Kian stood at her side. "You did it," he said. 

But the look on his face was not one of success. 

In fact, as her body slowly healed, his grief soaked her skin. 

She frowned. That wasn't right. He didn't grieve like her, so why did it feel so painful? So despairing. 

She wriggled in Magnus' arms wanting to be put down, and hoped her legs would hold her up okay. Even if they didn't, she needed to be free of him. The places where his body met with hers stung like a thousand wasp stings.

"What's wrong, Kian?" 

Magnus lowered her feet to the ground, and she stood on shaking legs, every inch of her skin burning and aching.

It was probably still the stress from overexertion.

She bargained with her racing mind that it was just that. Nothing else. Everything was fine. They did it. They won. The division was healed. The demon and Hayes were dead. The Fates got what they wanted.

"Kian?"

He turned his back on her, but his shoulders trembled.

"Kian!"

Magnus touched her bicep, and she jumped away from him. "No- don't. You can go help the vampires." Then, when his dark eyes searched hers sadly, she shoved him back.

"Go, Magnus." 

She wasn't about to let him act fatherly to her after twenty-seven years of abandonment.