Chapter sixteen

These gods damned halls keep shifting, never ending turns leading to dead ends or looping back the way I came. I slam my fist into the wall, stone cracking beneath it.

I've been searching this castle for too long with no signs of Adara, and now the mate bond is… strained. Almost as if she's nowhere near me, and that doesn't make sense. It can't make sense when a moment ago she felt so close. How could she have gotten so far in an instant?

With a sigh, I try to shake off the sinking feeling and continue to search the castle. My eyes narrow at the sound of someone coming down the hall, and I step into the shadows, waiting for them to reach the corner. A few deep breaths, and the scent hits me—Darrold, Brent, and the hunters.

"You found each other." I walk toward the bend in the hall, glad that something has changed for once after being stuck in an endless loop of circular halls.

Darrold nods, his lips pressed into a firm line. "Yeah, but we… uh, well—"

"We can't shift." Brent curls his hands into fists. "We were stuck in some hall, and this mist came. When I find that witch, I'm—"

"You'll be able to shift again soon," I say. "The spell will wear off now that she's dead."

"Monique is dead?" Parker asks, brows raised. "That—"

"No, Aramin is dead. She's the one who created the fog and its magic," I explain, running a hand through my hair. "I don't have time to tell you everything. She's dead. Your wolves will return soon. Monique is still out there, and…"

We'll find her, my wolf growls, his bloodthirst as strong as my own.

"And you aren't the one who gets to kill her," I add, staring at Brent until he cuts his gaze to the floor with a nod. "Have any of you seen Frank? Or Jaz?"

Worry creases Darrold's brow. "Jaz went home."

My jaw ticks as I clench it before snarling, "You don't think I know that? She was taken!"

His eyes grow wide, the others beside him going still.

"Rathmann took her and the raven. Gods damn it all, I almost wish I hadn't killed him just so I could kill him again." Sighing, I rub a hand over my face. "I want us spread out. Frank has Mila—she's injured. Badly. Jaz is here somewhere along with the missing witches and Kaylus, who was taken with her. Adara… I can't sense her closeby anymore. She felt so close and now… she's… too far." Glancing over the four men before me, my frustration builds as they stand there. "What're you waiting for? A gods damn map? GO FIND THEM!"

They scatter, two going back the way they came and the others going the opposite direction. I stand there for a moment, debating whether to go back or move forward. I don't want to re-enter whatever labyrinth spell trapped me before if I go back the way I came, so I decide to move forward, in the direction the four men came from. Five minutes traveling down the stone corridor, I find myself standing before a door with a hall branching to the right of it. Sniffing at the wood, I don't smell either pair of men around it. I look behind me—did they walk by it, or was it not here when they came this way? Godsforsaken magic castle…

Grasping the doorknob, I twist and push, but the door doesn't move. I shove harder, then shoulder it. The wood groans under the pressure but doesn't budge. Irritation spiking, I slash at the wood with my claws until it splits and chips away. Punching through the now thin wood, I reach through the gaping hole, splinters scraping over my skin, and twist the knob from the other side.

Smoke billows toward my face, smothering me in a thick cloud, and I crouch, coughing and waving my hand in front of me trying to clear it. For a moment, I'm worried it's another kind of fog—another source of the wolf-binding spell, but there's some heat within the haze. Definitely not fog then. I crawl forward, knowing that heat and smoke mean fire, and fire and my mate are frequently found together. I let hope swell within my chest, ignoring the knowledge of the still strained mate bond that my wolf insists on reminding me of.

Staying low, I make my way forward, slowly, with all senses perked. Something inside me wants me to stay in this form, and I follow the instinct despite wanting to shift.

"Adara!" I call, my eyes burning, a ragged cough scraping from my throat.

"Gideon?"

The voice is quiet, shocked almost, but recognizable.

"Gideon!" Jaz yells again.

I turn sharply to the left, standing to take large strides until I see her. Crouched beneath a blanket, she hides, huddled between the two lost witches. Jules and Wren are covered in injuries, bruises marring their skin, black bags under their bloodshot eyes, and their clothes are disgusting—dirt smeared and reeking of trauma. Jaz sits there, eyes red rimmed and hair a mess, but otherwise unharmed.

Once I reach a point a few feet away, the smoke suddenly dissipates, and Jaz runs to me. I scoop her up, hugging her tightly to my chest as she buries her face in the crook of my neck.

"Oh, little star," I say, my voice hoarse when the relief of finding her overwhelms me. "Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head, her arms tightly wound around me, and lifts slightly to look over her shoulder. "They're hurt pretty bad, though," she whispers, lip trembling.

I set her down, patting the top of her head, then take a step toward Juliana and Wren.

Jaz's hand grabs my arm, stopping me. She smirks when I glance down at her and holds out her blanket. "They're witches, Gideon." She rolls her eyes, gesturing at me. "They aren't… used to us."

Realization dawns over me as I wrap the blanket around my waist. Nakedness is natural in our world—for both our forms. Clothing never survives a shift, and we're conditioned from the start to see it as nothing but a part of our way of life. I forget that it isn't a commonality for witches and humans, but the blush covering the witches' faces before me remind me of that stark difference.

I stop just before them. They lean against each other, faces streaked with tears and grime, their hands clutching onto the other's.

"Did you find her?" Juliana asks, not lifting her gaze to meet mine, as if she already knows the answer.

Looking back to Jaz, the wall of smoke a backdrop behind her, my stomach sinks. "Did she do this?"

"Yes," Wren whispers. "She saved us. Sent the room up in flames, but… Kaylus…"

Juliana wraps her arm around Wren's shoulders, pulling her head against her chest and stroking her hair. Tears fill her eyes when she looks up at me. "Monique took Kaylus when Addy saved Jaz… after she forced Addy to save Jaz by throwing her into the flames. Addy went into some trap door after them after she hid us in this… wall of smoke. Gideon…" She swallows hard, sucking in a breath as she steadies herself. "She'll kill herself trying to save us all. She'll sacrifice anything for us. All of us. Once she knows the rest of us are safe, she'll do whatever she thinks she has to to save him. Kaylus is… He's more than her familiar." Tears race down her cheeks. "He's the only one who's been with her from the start in every shitty situation she's ever been in. He's a part of her soul. You can't… You can't let Monique take that away from her."

I clench my fists against my sides, the rough material of the blanket scraping over my skin. I knew she would—knew she would martyr herself to save her sister and her mate, knew she would risk everything for others. But I didn't want her to have to. We should've never been separated. If we had stayed together, I could've helped her. Right here in this room of hell, I could've killed that bitch of a mother and freed all of us from this nightmare.

Then, find her and get this done before we lose her forever!my wolf roars.

"Trap door where?" I ask, trying to control the rage bubbling inside me.

Lifting one hand, deep purple bruises mottling her wrist, she points into the smoke, straight ahead. "By the thrones."

"Keep Jaz with you," I tell her, already walking toward it. "The others will find you and—"

"I'm coming too." Jaz steps in front of me, lifting her chin.

Growling, I grasp her shoulders and move her aside. "No. Jazelle, don't argue with me. You're staying."

"I'm not hurt," she argues, following behind me. "I'm fine. I can help you find her and mask myself when it's dangerous. Gideon!" She latches onto my arm, giving me the world's saddest puppy eyes. "Please. I want to help Addy too."

Sighing, I crouch down and brush the hair from her face. "Jazelle, you can't help her right now. She'll worry about saving you, and Monique will use that against us."

"But…"

Pressing my lips into a small smile, I cup her cheek in my hand. "You can help by keeping Addy's family safe. Juliana and Wren are hurt and need to be protected. Do you think you can do that?"

Her brows knit together for a moment before she nods, determination crossing her features. "I got this. I swear I'll protect them, and… and I'll find a way to help heal their injuries." She spins on her heels and goes back to the witches with her head high, back straight as she stands tall.

I chuckle under my breath, watching in wonder of the small pup. She's been through so much at such a young age, and yet she exudes a fierce strength.

Standing, I take another step forward, and a loud crash surges through the room. I whip around, running to shield the three girls yards away. It goes against instinct to turn my back to any danger, but the sound of marble crumbling is like a bomb going off, rocks and debris flying around me like a hailstorm from hell.

As the room settles, the smoke is sucked out through a gaping hole in the wall, the darkening sky outside visible. The dim light from the dying sun illuminates the plumes of dust spiraling up from the rubble.

"Gideon!" Frank yells, his head popping inside from the now open wall. "Witches are here! Chloe brought the whole coven with her!"