Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

My fingers tightened around the Mirror of Aethereal, knuckles white with frustration. "Damn it," I muttered, watching Justice and Garrick continue their deadly dance. The mirror's surface remained stubbornly blank, mocking the promise of salvation.

A few feet away, Maggie stood frozen, her wolf form melting away like mist in sunlight. As fur receded and human skin emerged, the true extent of her ordeal became painfully apparent. Her body was a canvas of violence, each mark telling a story of the brutal fight she'd endured.

Angry purple bruises bloomed across her ribs and abdomen, some already darkening to a sickly green-black. Scratches varying from shallow grazes to deep gashes crisscrossed her arms and legs. Some still oozed sluggishly, leaving trails of crimson down her pale skin. Her left shoulder bore the unmistakable imprint of fangs. Justice's doing, no doubt.

Maggie swayed on her newly human feet, her usual grace replaced by a trembling vulnerability. Every movement seemed to bring a new wave of pain, evident in the tight lines around her eyes and the way her jaw clenched rhythmically. Her right ankle looked swollen, barely taking her weight as she struggled to remain upright.

Her face hadn't escaped the onslaught, either. A split lip, puffy and bleeding, marred her mouth. Her left eye was swelling, the beginnings of an impressive shiner already visible. A series of parallel scratches ran from her right temple to her jaw as if claws had barely missed her eye.

Despite the ferocity written across her skin, Maggie's eyes truly betrayed her state. Usually sharp and alert, they were clouded with confusion. Foggy bewilderment replaced the fierce intelligence that typically shone in her gaze like she was struggling to piece together what had happened.

She stood there, naked and battered, looking for all the world like she had fought off an entire pack of wolves. Or, in this case, an Unseelie king and a vampire. The sight of her, so strong yet so broken, made my heart clench. This was the cost of the madness that had gripped us all, etched into the flesh of one of my dearest friends.

"Sawyer, what's happening?" Her voice quivered, thin and fragile.

I reached out to steady her with a grip that betrayed my own fear. "Lust demons," I managed. "They cast a spell on you."

Maggie's face crumpled, her strength fracturing like glass. "I've never…" Her voice cracked. She scrubbed at her face, smearing dirt and blood across pale skin. "I was ready to kill, Sawyer. For something I didn't even want."

Tears welled in her eyes, catching the dim light. They spilled over as her gaze drifted to Garrick, still locked in combat with Justice. "Why us?" The words came out ragged, raw with pain. "Why does something always try to tear us apart?"

The anguish in her tone made my chest constrict. I followed her gaze, watching two of the men I cared about most in the world trying to destroy each other. A cold realization crept over me, raising goosebumps along my arms.

"Maybe that's exactly it," I blurted, the pieces falling into place. "Maci's revenge. She wouldn't want anyone to be happy, especially not someone in love."

Maggie's eyes widened, realization and renewed determination chasing away the lingering confusion.

In the background, Justice and Garrick's battle raged on. The mirror in my hand seemed to pulse with renewed urgency. Whatever came next, I had to act fast.

Justice's roar split the air as he hurled Garrick skyward. The Unseelie king twisted, a dark silhouette against the murky sky, before crashing into the mud mere feet from where I stood. My heart thundered. This was my chance.

I launched forward, feet slipping in the muck, every muscle screaming with urgency.

"Sawyer, don't!" Maggie's cry tore through the chaos, but I couldn't stop. Not now.

Garrick dragged himself upright, his current state a grotesque parody of his formerly regal posture. His long hair, once sleek and well-groomed, hung in matted tangles around his face, streaked with mud and blood. A deep gash across his forehead sent rivulets of crimson down the side of his face, partially obscuring one eye.

His typically immaculate clothing was in tatters. His shirt hung in ribbons, exposing a chest mottled purple and blue bruises. Long, angry scratches from Justice's vampire claws ran across his torso and arms. One particularly nasty wound on his left bicep still oozed, the flesh around it an angry red.

Garrick's right eye was swollen nearly shut, his lip split in two places. A dark bruise bloomed along his jaw, evidence of a powerful blow. Despite his Unseelie strength, it was clear the fight with Justice had taken its toll. He favored his left leg, and his breathing came in ragged, pained gasps.

But it was his eyes that truly chilled me to the core. Usually dancing with smirky mischief and teasing glints, they now blazed with something terrifying. Gone was any trace of the Garrick I knew. In its place was a toxic mixture of hatred and unbridled lust, turning his gaze into something feral and unrecognizable.

As he wheeled toward me, transforming into a juggernaut of fury, I saw the full extent of what this spell had done. It had twisted his essence. In all his battered and bloody glory, the Unseelie king was a force of pure, unrestrained rage.

His pained movements carried a frightening intensity. Each step seemed to vibrate with barely contained violence. Despite his injuries, despite the toll the battle had taken, Garrick was far from defeated. If anything, the pain seemed to fuel his fury, making him all the more dangerous as he advanced.

Time seemed to slow. I saw Justice turning, his face contorting in horror. Maggie's outstretched hand, too far to reach me. I stood my ground, feet planted in the blood-soaked earth, refusing to yield.

Garrick slammed into me with the force of a freight train. The impact knocked the air from my lungs in a painful rush as we hit the ground. Mud squelched beneath us, the metallic tang of blood filling my nostrils.

His face loomed over mine, twisted into an unrecognizable mask. "You're not the leader anymore, Sawyer," he snarled, his words dripping with venom. "It's mine."

Terror clawed at my insides, but beneath it, a core of steely determination held firm. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I thrust the Mirror of Aethereal between us.

The effect was instantaneous. Garrick recoiled as if he'd struck an invisible barrier, his momentum halting abruptly. He skidded back, eyes wide with shock and confusion.

For a heartbeat, silence reigned as I lay there gasping. Garrick remained frozen, the malevolent gleam in his eyes flickering like a candle in the wind.

In that moment, suspended between chaos and hope, I silently prayed this would be enough. Somehow, this ancient artifact could break through the darkness that had consumed my friend and bring him back to us.

The mirror's surface glimmered faintly, its power rippling like an invisible tide. Garrick froze, his body rigid. For what felt like an eternity, neither of us moved.

Then, almost imperceptibly, something in Garrick's eyes shifted. The burning hatred flickered like a flame struggling against a strong wind. His brow furrowed, confusion replacing rage.

"S-Sawyer?" My name left his lips as a question.

He blinked rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. He shook his head, sending droplets of mud and blood flying. Some of it spattered my face, but I didn't dare move to wipe it away. I held my breath, watching as awareness crept back into his features.

His grip on my shoulders loosened, fingers uncurling one by one. The weight of his body, which had felt like it might crush me moments ago, lifted. He pushed himself up, his movements sluggish and uncertain, like someone waking from a deep slumber.

"What…what's happening?" he murmured. He looked down at me, then at his own hands as if seeing them for the first time. "Why are we…"

I remained still, clutching the mirror as I watched Garrick's transformation, hope and fear warring within me.

Garrick continued to retreat, his movements unsteady. He swayed as he got to his feet, reminding me of Maggie's disorientation earlier. His eyes, no longer clouded by that terrible mixture of hate and lust, darted around the battlefield, growing wider with each passing second.

"Oh, gods," he whispered, horror dawning on his face as the reality of what had transpired sank in. "What have I done?"

I slowly pushed myself up, wincing at the ache from the impact. The mirror remained steady in my hands, its surface calm and clear. We were far from out of danger. Justice was still under the spell, and who knew what other threats lurked in the shadows.

My hand trembled as I clasped Garrick's shoulder. "You were under a spell," I told him.

Garrick's gaze darted to the shadowy forest. A flicker of recognition passed over his face, followed by a grimace. "I can see them. Lust demons?"

I squinted into the darkness, seeing nothing but knowing the threat lurked beyond my sight. "Yes." I turned back to Garrick with a furrowed brow. "How did you know?"

He swallowed hard, shame and disgust warring on his features. "Because I was lusting for power and dominance over our team." He spat the words out like they tasted foul. "It's foolish, nonsensical. I'm the king of the Unseelie, yet somehow, being leader of our team felt more important. More consuming."

The raw vulnerability in his admission made my chest tighten. Before I could respond, a blur of motion caught my eye.

"Garrick!" Maggie's voice rang out, filled with desperate joy. She rushed toward us, her injuries forgotten in her haste.

Garrick's face transformed, relief and love washing away the remnants of shame. He caught Maggie in his arms, spinning her around despite their battered states. The action spoke volumes. A reaffirmation of life, of connection, in the face of the horror we'd endured.

As he set her down, Garrick cupped Maggie's face in his hands, his touch gentle. "You're well?" The question came out rough with emotion. "Did I hurt you?"

Maggie leaned into his touch, her eyes glistening. "We hurt each other," she admitted softly. Then, with fierce determination, she added, "I love you."

Garrick's response was immediate, his words a fervent vow. "You're mine," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. "No one will tear us apart again."

The intensity of their reunion made me look away, feeling like an intruder. Yet underneath the relief, a nagging worry persisted. I'd broken the spell's hold on Garrick and Maggie.

But now Justice was coming at us, still under the spell.