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Chapter 48

48

S pencer

As the academy’s protective spells crumble to the ground around us, Kennedy’s troops come charging up the slope towards the mansion, just as we planned.

I keep my arms outstretched, signaling to the others to wait, to hold back, to be patient. It’s hard when I can feel the thrum of magic all around me, that and anticipation too. It presses against my back and my shoulders and it takes every ounce of my strength and my determination to hold it back.

We can’t strike, not yet. We have to wait. Wait until they’re right where we want them.

“Ellie,” I say.

Azlan’s sister steps forward and places a bottle on the ground. Inside, a green mist swirls like angry storm clouds. She yanks off the stopper and with the help of the other resistance fighters casts a wind that sends the mist hurtling down the hill towards the incoming troops.

As the mist curls around them, they falter, coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces.

I smile to myself. It worked. This is our moment. But just as I’m about to give the command to strike, the mist is whisked away by some other magic, and the soldiers reform their ranks.

They surge forward, the first of their soldiers reaching the crown of the hill and sprinting forward, roaring as they do.

I let my vision scan over them, across their angry faces and their armored forms, wondering why the hell they’re fighting for a mad man like Kennedy, wondering how they’ve fallen for his lies and his deceptions, wondering if they had a choice or not.

Then my gaze falters on one face, one face I recognize – that woman from the barracks, the one who showed me around the very first day. I read the fear in her eyes and the terror on her face.

And fuck, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.

The fighting is all I’ve ever been good at. All anyone has ever admired about me. And fuck, it sparked something inside me too, made me feel alive, unstoppable, like a hero.

What do I feel now? Nothing, nothing at all. I think of all the hits I took in that cell, all the punches and kicks, the stamps and the slaps.

I remember watching them beat Jacob until he lay unmoving. I remember them killing him, striking him down outside the prison.

I remember my brother, the scent of his blood still vivid out there in no-man's-land.

My arms fall by their sides. My knees buckle .

Everyone behind me storms forward.

For a brief moment in time, nothing changes. Both sides rush at each other, but the space between them remains.

Peace. Quiet.

I close my eyes.

The two sides collide. I hear the hiss and the roar, the explosion and the thump of magic.

“Spencer! Spencer! What the hell are you doing?” Someone shakes at my shoulder as I stay immobile on my knees.

I open my eyes.

Azlan.

“I can’t,” I mumble.

His eyes flicker around my face and he seems to understand, seems to know. I wonder if he’s ever felt this way. If the killing, the maiming, ever got too much for him too. Whether he craves it like Barone does. Or whether he simply no longer feels it at all.

“Doesn’t matter,” he tells me, shaking me harder. “You have to. You have to for Rhianna.”

Yes, for the girl!

The beast roars inside me and then he’s taking the decision out of my hands, my body transforming into his.

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