Chapter 43

CHAPTER 43

T he lobby is empty, the marble floor shiny and polished. I pass the reception desk and walk through the open scanners to the elevator bank. They flash random numbers, and there are arrows drawn crudely on the silver fronts, pointing to a door farther down. I follow the banks, finding more arrows that point the way

The white door has its own message, written in blood.

"Not creepy at all," I mutter, then I grip the handle and twist. The door opens easily, and no alarm blares despite the emergency only sign. I step through then jump when it slams shut behind me. Swallowing hard, I glance up with a groan.

Floor after floor of stairs stretch above me, but when my eyes land on the bodies lining each step, I swallow. Okay, super creepy.

Pressed against the walls are zombies. They are all smiling, and when I place my foot on the first step with a creature, its voice reaches me.

"Welcome home."

Shaking my head, I start to climb, each zombie repeating the greeting until I'm practically running. Their voices fill the air like a promise, and there are so many of them, I want to cover my ears.

I grip the banister and run, sweat trickling down my temples by the time I'm ten floors up.

I was not made for this sort of exercise. I was made for naps, cocks, and magic.

Magic . . .

I hesitate, but honestly, I don't think I can climb these and stop him before the world ends. I mean, maybe that was his plan all along, make me late by forcing me to climb a billion stairs. Gripping the banister, I lean out and look up, seeing tons more.

I grip the railing as the building shakes with Sha's angry roar, and I send up a prayer, hoping he's okay.

Yeah, fuck climbing these stairs.

I'm not just a human, and despite the zombies here, I reach for my magic.

I'm a fucking necromancer, a goddamn witch, and it's about time I started acting like one.

I conjure a portal and step inside. I find myself at least ten floors up, so I do it again and again until I'm standing on the last landing. Looking down, I see how many floors I travelled and smirk. Turning back, I take a deep breath at the closed double doors. The keypad at the side is broken, the alarm cut at the top.

Refusing to hesitate, I open it and step out onto the roof. It shuts behind me, announcing my arrival, but he does not turn from where he stands in the middle, facing the city beyond. I see Phrixius fly past, and I hear them fighting below. I want to look, but I keep my eyes on his back, knowing he's the most dangerous thing here.

The mask he stole lies at his feet, broken into a million pieces.

Taking another step, I call out, "Stop this."

"It cannot be stopped." He turns to me, his face carved with a welcoming smile. "I have been waiting for you. "

"I know." I take another step. "But it's never too late. Let them go, let's end this."

"You wish to end this? You know how." He tilts his head, watching me. "But you do not have it in you. Despite it all, you're not a killer. You are weak—not quite a witch, not quite a necromancer. You are caught in between, a child hiding from the dark. Can't you see the dark is not to be feared, but embraced? Without it, you are nothing. You are not fighting me, you are fighting yourself, and you will never win. You are weak!" he roars before he breathes out and glances around. "I did all of this without even feeling drained. Could you?"

"Why would I want to?" I ask. "Look at the destruction?—"

"The beauty! This world needs to be destroyed. It needs to be rebuilt. It needs to be cleansed!"

Shaking my head, I stare into his eyes. He might have been a man once driven by grief, but he let it twist him into a monster. Does he not understand that the very reason they culled our kind is because of this?

This is not the way to change their minds, but it is too late for that now.

"Look." He gestures at the city beyond. "Look at what we are capable of." I hurry to the edge, peering down in horror. There are so many bodies, all because of him and what we are.

I glance back at him to see his proud grin. "It is not the darkness inside us they fear, but the power we hold. Even the gods fear us because they know we could be even more powerful than them, and they hate that. They kill us not just because they are afraid, but also because of jealousy. The gods wish they could be as strong as us."

"They killed us because of this! You conquered an entire city to make a point. You killed thousands, and you wonder why they killed our people. One person did this. No wonder they feared what more of us would do. You are not helping us. You are just confirming everything they think is true. Everyone else forgot, thinking we are just nightmares whispered in the dark to scare kids, but now, we will be the horror in their past, a constant reminder of the abuse of magic necromancers are capable of. This isn't making us a future. It's damning us once more." The words tumble from my lips as I step closer. "What they did to your family was wrong, but how many families have you killed today? How many children have you taken? How many parents' souls have you slaughtered? You are no better than them—no, you are worse because you know the pain it causes and you still did it anyway. You let revenge blind you and called it change. We can be better than this. We have to be, or we don't deserve to live."

"We are what we are made into," he tells me. "We are born to be this. You cannot fight fate no matter how hard you try. Death is all they understand, and I am willing to be the evil covered in blood if it changes the future. Are you? Will you do what it takes for your ideals?"

As I stare into his eyes, I understand what he means. Am I willing to sacrifice everything to stop this?

To fight the devil, you must be the devil.

You cannot win against evil without being evil yourself.

I will never win against him like this. He has no weakness or reservations, but I do.

I hold back the darkness with firm control, and that makes me weaker than he is. I will not win, and my men will die.

What is one life, one soul, against all of that?

Everything I have fought for, everything I have tried so hard not to be fills me, and I know I must become like him to end this. I must become what everyone said we are—evil.

I must embrace who I was born to be or I will die here like everyone else.

My soul is a small price to pay, even though I know it will destroy my men to kill me after.

It will be worth it to keep them and everyone safe.

"Yes," I tell him. "I am willing to become whatever it takes to end this."

I let go.

I release the darkness inside me, letting the shadows leak through me. I demolish all that careful control born from fear. I tear down the wall Phrixius taught me and let it out.

I feel it fill me, darkness crawling under my skin, and when I lift my hands, I see it moving. My eyes and face feel different, and my hair flows around me, lifted by power.

"There you are." He grins. "Magnificent. Let's see, shall we?" He turns to the city. "Kill them."

"No!" My hands lift, and shadows pour from them, wrapping around him. They cover his mouth and hands, sinking into his skin as one of my men roars in agony. "No!"

The darkness explodes, the thorns ripping into the necromancer as fury fills me.

He dares to hurt what is mine?

His eyes are wide as my darkness tightens around him, ripping him to pieces. Power flows from me as I begin to rise into the air, and with a yell, I send it out to the city.

I steal all the souls filling those bodies, my command clear.

Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die.

I feel them fall, one by one, their screaming, fighting souls rushing back to me, and then I fling them into the mask. It flows through and around me. There is so much raw magic, the earth trembles with it.

I could not stop this now even if I wanted to, but he's right . . . . I don't.

I want his death for daring to touch what is mine.

I let it fuel me, and I consume it. I feed on the death I control, on his pain and power, until I'm full enough to burst. The entire city dies below me, and I become what I never wanted to be—evil.

I become like him and our ancestors.

I become a true necromancer.

A noise from one of my men brings me back. Releasing my hold on him, I drop him to the ground. His powers are stolen, and now he is nothing but a weak, dying mortal. Ignoring him, I step to the roof edge to check on my men. I see them below, climbing to their feet, alive and well, and relief pulses through me alongside the mocking darkness covering my soul.

It's begging for me to kill them and taste their power, telling me how wonderful it would be.

I turn away from them before I do just that, unsure how much control I truly have right now. I became this to keep them safe, and I know how this ends—with my death. I will not take them with me. It is my sacrifice . . . my choice.

The necromancer kneels before me, blood pouring from his eyes and lips, yet they tilt up in a smile that should make me feel cold all over, but I already am.

"There it is, our greatest weapon—you. This was all for you. Go, Freya, and be our vengeance. Be the evil they called us. Ruin them for what they did to us. This was always my destiny, and this was always yours."

I frown, not understanding until it dawns on me.

He wanted it to end this way.

He planned all of this so I would embrace the darkness inside and become what he needed—a weapon against the gods.

He was willing to die for his ideals like he demanded of me, and as I stare into his eyes, his smile only grows. He gave it all so I would become this, and I played right into his plan. This was never about ending it . . . . It was about starting it.

This was just the beginning. There is no going back now, and we both know it.

"What have I done?" I whisper, and I stumble back in horror.

"What none of us could do. You have become our future." He grins, blood still pouring down his face.

There is so much power inside me, there will never be any going back.

"Freya!" is shouted from below.

I hesitate to turn and face them and let them see what I have become. Suddenly, something echoes through the air like a horn—a warning.

A sense of an ancient rivalry and anger demands I kill them before they kill me.

I turn in horror, racing to the edge of the building and leaping onto the lip as the heavens open and bright sunlight cuts through the darkness.

The gods arrive in a halo of righteous fury .

They pour into the air, all dressed in armour, and they have so much power, it thickens the air.

For a moment, I meet Phrixius's eyes, which are filled with fear as he stares at me like I'm a stranger as the gods descend around us, taking in the scene.

I feel their eyes on me.

"Abomination!" one roars.

It is not me they are speaking to, though, and I follow their power breathlessly, watching as it arcs through the air, aimed like a spear at the ground below, where Adder and Sha stand, staring up at me.

My scream of horror rips through the air as magic closes around Sha. He turns, reaching for me, and then suddenly, he is ripped away from this world. My soul shatters when I cannot feel him anymore.

Phrixius heads my way, but more magic slams down into the earth, glowing brightly like a circular prison, surrounding Adder. He glances from the gods to me, his mouth tilting in a smile. "I love you, little witch," he calls as chains slither around his body and drag him to his knees. They start to glow, and his jaw clenches, but he never once cries out or looks away.

"No!" I fling my magic, but it's too late. The prison glows brighter, and suddenly, he's gone as well.

Something inside me cracks and breaks, and my eyes turn to the gods.

With a roar, I fling my magic at them. "No!" Phrixius screams, and he appears before me, taking the blow. My eyes widen as he flies through the air, a million cuts appearing all over him.

The last shard of my soul breaks as I stare into his hard eyes as he accepts the hatred meant for the other gods. Even now, he's protecting me, knowing what I have become.

Everything else is gone.

I feel nothing but hate.

"Freya," Phrixius whispers. "Come back to me."

"Too late, god." The necromancer behind me coughs. "It was always going to be this way." His laughter reaches me once more as I turn to see him lying on his side, his lips tilted up. "This was always how it was supposed to end, Freya. Now do it. Do what we could not. Destroy them. This world is yours, light eater. Embrace it. It is too late to fight now. The gods have taken what was left of your soul and those who helped control it. All that is left is evil, just like me. Welcome home, necromancer. Welcome to your future, our queen."

I look at the gods for a moment, and with a snap of my fingers, I rip apart his body without even looking. "You have taken what is mine!" I call. "Return them or end up like him."

"Freya, please," Phrixius says, heading my way, panting and still bleeding. His glow lessens, as if I stole his magic.

"Necromancer, you are to be sentenced for your crimes." Their voices come as one as they turn their attention to me.

My eyes go back to the earth and the scarred marks where my demon and creature were. Without them, I am nothing. My soul is gone.

Without even meaning to, the gods just stole the last of my humanity.

I laugh. All this resistance, and this is how it ends. Gods, I was a fool. My laughter tumbles out, louder and louder, until power flows into me, trying to force me to submit to their wills.

He was right. I understand his willingness to give up this world for the one you love.

Fuck this world and fuck the gods.

They will all pay.

I lift my hands, ready to do just that, when their combined magic hits me. I scream in agony as it tears through me, ripping me to shreds. Their power floods me, obscuring my own and stealing my control over it. I'm surprised I'm not dead as I fall to my knees on the edge of the roof.

"Stop this!" Phrixius calls to them. "Stop it!"

Golden shackles appear around my wrists. They glow and start to burn, and I scream as they block everything, making me numb and weak.

I meet his panicked gaze as he stops before me, turning to face them. "Give me time to explain. Just stop. "

"Phrixius," I murmur, and he glances at me over his shoulder.

"Shh, I've got this, Freya. I will keep you safe, just hold on." I search his desperate eyes, and I realise he will. He'll stand against the gods for me.

I cannot let that happen. They will kill him too.

The necromancer was wrong.

This is not destined. We make our destiny, and I choose him. I choose to save him. I choose to save whatever is left of the Freya he fell in love with.

"I love you," I tell him as I throw myself forward.

I do not scream as I fall. The wind roars around me as I plummet towards the ground to stop this once and for all. My death will accomplish that. This is the only way.

I turn with the force of the wind, my hands chained in front of me as Phrixius dives towards me, his mouth open in a scream of denial, but we both know he will not be fast enough.

Surprisingly, peace fills me. I have been fighting for so long, and I am ready to rest.

I do not close my eyes as I hit, ensuring he is the last thing I see in this world.