Sapphire Spells

Chapter 42

Deep cold settles over my skin before seeping within. It melts into my bones, chilling me to where my entire body shakes. The magic forces itself upon me, ripping me from inside, burning me up to where I am left hollowed out. The empty void fills with the anguish of the realization that after all of that, we failed.

I am still collared.

Wind rushes past me before slamming into someone else.

Preston's magic throws Alaric back a few yards before the fairy prince kneels beside me. "Can you move?" He asks.

I am still collared. We failed. That realization fills me with dread. What now?

"Emma, can you move?" He asks again.

Can I move? Everything hurts. Breathing, the act of my lungs expanding and pressing against my ribs, hurts.

"Get away from her." Alaric does not yell, but his voice carries with clarity despite the wind howling around him.

Preston's attention turns from me to the alpha, who is slowly making steps towards us, fighting through the blasts of air rushing around him.

"I would advise you to turn around and leave, as I would rather not force Emma to see you die." Preston rises to his full height. Gone is the anger his tone present just moments ago, leaving the calm and collected fairy prince I recognize well. He has no fear when viewing the Alpha, as though he is no threat. Without even moving, the air shifts under his command.

"I will not leave her." Alaric drops to the ground, using claws to dig into the earth, keeping the wind from blowing him back. Muscles strain beneath his shirt as he struggles to move towards us.

Preston snorts, unimpressed. "Have you learned absolutely nothing from our previous encounter? You are hopeless against my magic. I can knock you out or take your life without even needing to lift a finger. This is not a fight you have any chance of winning."

He is right, there is little hope against magic when you have little to none of it yourself. Even as a shifter, how do you fight someone who controls the air?

Gunshots fill the forest with loud, repetitive bangs that are met with howls. And I shudder. The last time I heard gunshots, I lost Ally. My muscles coil so unbearably tightly as I fight the rush of memories wishing to pull me into them.

"I'm not gone." Ally's voice drifts through my head, loosening some of the tension that holds me so tight.

Preston continues, "Best you take your wolves and get lost. Leave the witches."

I want to do something or say something, but nothing seems to come to mind. Instead, I remain on my knees, keeled over and trembling. Pathetic.

Light flickers at the side, drawing my attention to where Fallon stands in the distance. The trees and brush largely block his movements from view, but I see him engage in a fight with one of the fairies. Fire flickers in the night, growing and dulling as he sees fit.

I touched fire before all of this. Fallon began teaching me how before... the collar at my throat burns beneath my skin with its magic, as if sensing my thoughts, and not approving.

"Don't even think about it." Preston's eyes cut to me. Slowly, I turn and find him staring at me. "I would rather not cause you any more pain on top of what you have just gone through."

The threat of possibly feeling that misery once more has me nauseous. My stomach clenches so tight I might pass out from the sheer fear of being in that horrid place of torment with no escape.

I'd rather die. The thought is so absolute it is disgusting. I have survived through so much. Broken and lonely, I still grasped at life. And yet this pain that the thing around my neck can cause has me giving up.