A Russian fugitive with power like no other. Though strong, powerful, and wickedly smart, secrets lie deep within her heart, mind, and soul, haunting her to this day. Those very secrets will chase her until they catch up to her. She may have thought...
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Way Down We Go—KALEO 𝔗𝔬𝔪'𝔰𝔭𝔬𝔳
My heart falls into my stomach as I watch her hit the ground. I lunge for her in an instant, pulling her limp body against mine.
I watch as her eyes drain of life, and my blood runs cold.
No.
I shake her body in my arms, trying to wake her, but she doesn't move.
My eyes burn, and my stomach curdles.
I shake her harder, but I get no response.
With every passing second, her skin grows colder and paler. Her chest no longer rises and falls, and the life in her eyes is no longer there. Instead, it is replaced with a blank stare.
"She's dead," I hear Druella say, and those words cause my heart to twist in a way that makes bile rise in my throat. "No."
"It was the killing curse—"
"She's not dead," I snarl, shaking her figure again.
She can't be dead.
Footsteps approach us, and when I see the black combat boots, I know it to be Kier.
"Her necklace," Kier says, his voice in disbelief.
My gaze goes to her necklace—the one I gifted her to wear at the ball.
What was once a black pendant is now a glowing red.
Swallowing, I reach out to touch the necklace, and when I do, my heart skips a beat.
Dark magic.
The feel of it vibrates off the necklace, reverberating through my bones, and it is the same as the one I get every time I touch my journal.
Eyes narrowing, the night's events flood my mind, all coming back at once.
Kritana killing her abuser in cold blood, sacrificing herself for her friend, and the necklace.
A necklace that holds emotional significance because it was I who gifted it to her.
My lips part in realization, and a shaky breath escapes. "She's not dead."
I look down at her face, sliding my thumb gently over her cheek. "Her soul has been split."
I catch her friend's eyes widen out of the corner of my eye. "That's not possible. She never did the ritual for it."
No, she did not. But I know the feeling of a horcrux. And the pendant around her neck is certainly that.
"She damaged her soul. She killed a man. He was not armed, nor was he a threat to her at the time. She could have left him there, but she killed him," I tell Zetrov as I look down at her. "It was murder."
