Suddenly, Shelly straightened as a portal blossomed into being, its edges sparking blue and white. The temperature dropped even colder, the sky bruised even darker, and electricity ran through the air, raising goosebumps along Rory’s arms.

  Ra stepped through first, his tan face carved from granite, resolution and regret fighting for space in his black eyes. A young girl followed, and Rory gasped as she saw a face that resembled her own.

  “That’s her,” she whispered, forcing her feet to stay in place despite the driving need in her to run to her sister and get her to safety.

  Her sister was flanked by Penny and two other women that Rory didn’t recognize. One, the younger one, was definitely a witch. Rory could feel her magic. The older woman was simply human. Although she was older, the way she moved towards Aurora as if to shield her made it clear she was tough. Aurora moved like she was walking through a dream she didn’t quite trust, her eyes drinking in the stones, the people, the storm gathering above them.

  Rory’s breath snagged in her chest as she watched the family member that had been stolen from her–a relationship she’d been robbed of because of an evil witch with her own agenda. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at her sister, desperate for the sight of her, willing Aurora to look her way, to see her, not just as another person in the circle, but as blood, as family. As if drawn by some magnetic pull, Aurora’s gaze snapped to Rory and held. For a moment—one, two heartbeats—Rory saw a flicker of something in her sister’s eyes. Recognition. Confusion. Then, a spark of hope. Aurora’s lips parted, her breath quickening, and Rory felt it—something old and unbreakable stretching between them, a bond too strong for time or pain or even magic to sever.

  “Aurora,” she called out, nearly moving forward.

  “Rory, don’t you dare move,” Kimba shouted, and it froze her in place.

  Aston’s hand was still in hers, and she squeezed so hard she might’ve cut off his circulation.

  “She sees me,” Rory whispered, voice trembling with awe and grief and love all tangled together. “Aston, she knows. She knows I’m not just— She knows.” Her mind was repeating the same thing over and over again because all she could think was that her sister saw something in Rory that called to her. Of all the people in the circle, Aurora looked at her.

  Aston’s eyes glimmered with pride. “Of course, she does. You’re sisters. No amount of time apart could change that.”

  Rory wanted to run to her, to wrap her arms around her sister and promise her that nothing—no darkness, no devil, no Viscious—could keep her away again. But the circle was set, the pattern in motion, and all she could do was hold her ground and hope.

  Kimba’s voice cut through the thickening tension. “Everyone but Ra and Aurora, step back until you’re just outside of the stones. Move now. No arguments, no heroics, and for the love of everything, don’t trip on any rocks. Penny, get those females with you out of here.” She swiped a hand in the air, opening a portal next to her. “We can’t be worrying about two witches and a human when we need to be focused on trapping Viscious. As soon as we’re good, we’ll call you.”

  The older woman started to speak as she looked back at Aurora, but Penny wrapped an arm around her, speaking to her softly as she and the other witch went through the portal. It snapped closed. And Kimba’s attention was back on the group.

  The pairs obeyed the soul-bonded queen, their boots squelching in the wet grass, the ring of living magic growing tighter around the ancient structure. Rory hesitated, caught in that moment with Aurora, her heart in her throat.

  Then, Aston tugged her gently, his voice a murmur, “We’ll get her back, Rory. I promise. Now move, before Kimba turns you into a frog.”

  Rory snorted, the sound half a laugh and half a sob. “She wouldn’t dare. I’m her favorite.”

  Aston grinned. “You keep telling yourself that, Love.”

  She stepped back, feeling the circle of magic pulse encompassing Ra and Aurora. Rain stung her cheeks, and somewhere overhead, thunder rolled—a warning and a promise, the sky itself bearing witness to what was about to unfold.

  Settling into her position beside Aston, Rory looked around at the faces of her friends, her family, and the soul-bonded pairs who would stand with her against the evil facing them. The stones shimmered, catching stray lightning in their grooves, and the air pressed in, heavy with magic, hope, and the desperate certainty that tonight, everything would change.

  As the circle closed and the world held its breath, Rory knew, bone-deep, that the thread tying her to her sister would not break. Not now. Not ever.

  And in that breath before the storm, Rory finally believed: together, they would heal from all the pain they’d experienced in their lives.

  Shelly’s body shivered from the rain and cold, her hands balled so tight the knuckles ached. The world felt too loud and too quiet all at once. She could feel the magic humming through the ley lines beneath her feet, thrumming up her legs, crawling beneath her skin like a promise and a threat. She’d never been afraid of a fight, never backed down from a challenge, but this—this was different. This was Ra’s soul on the line, her soul, and the kind of darkness that didn’t just swallow you whole, but spat you out changed, broken.

  Every breath was a struggle, the air thick with moisture, power and the faint, ever-present tang of stone and moss and ancient awareness. In her stressed state, she bit the inside of her cheek and tasted iron on her tongue—fear, maybe; or maybe the anticipation of what was about to happen was eating her from the inside out. The wind knifed through the stones, tugging at her hair, sliding under her jacket, making her ache down to her bones, but some of that pain had nothing to do with the cold.

  Her eyes moved around the circle, taking in her friends—their faces set, some pale with nerves, others grim and determined. Her neck turned directly to her right, and there stood Rory, with Aston at her side, her eyes wide and shining in the growing gloom. Gabby shifted from foot to foot like a caged beast ready to be let loose on her prey, Liam at her side, the two of them bristling with barely-contained energy. Even the elementals, the kings and queens hidden in plain sight, seemed to make the air denser, heavier, as if the whole world was waiting for a verdict.

  But Shelly’s eyes kept drifting to the center of the circle, to where Ra stood, his back ramrod straight, shoulders squared, every line of him screaming tension and pain and something else—resignation, maybe, or anticipation. She could feel him through the tie that bound them–a wild, desperate pulse that was both a comfort and a torment. He didn’t look back, didn’t need to. She could sense him in her bones, in that secret place their bond lived and breathed. But tonight, the bond was electric, raw and untested, and she’d never used their combined soul magic in a way that mattered this much. Not with the fate of his eternity hanging in the balance.

  Shelly’s mind raced, running every scenario, every possible failure. What if we’re not strong enough? What if I falter, even for a second? What if all these people—elementals, soul-bonded pairs, kings and queens—what if we’re still not enough, and Viscious wins? What if I lose Ra? That thought alone made her stomach clench, and a cold sweat broke out along her spine.

  She remembered all too vividly what hell felt like—the endless heat, the suffocating evil that fed the darkness, the sense of feeling utterly stuck with no way out. The first time, she hadn’t known Ra was coming for her–fighting his way through the levels of hell, putting his life on the line for a girl he didn’t even know. The second time, she’d felt Ra suffering at their separation and his need to get her back again. This time, however, they were one, soul-bonded, incomplete without each other. When he’d gotten her back, he’d sworn he’d never let her go again. They hadn’t expected such a request from the dark fire king, something that might separate them regardless of what they wanted or needed.

  Tonight, there were too many unknowns, too many ways for victory to slip through their fingers.

  A warm hand slid into hers, startling her out of her spiral. When she looked down, nothing was there. Her hand was empty. She looked up to see if Ra was somehow doing something, but he was focused on Aurora. Then her eyes shifted to her best friend, Tara. She had a small smirk on her face.

  “I’ve figured out that when we’re using our magic all joined like this, we can communicate,” Tara’s voice filled her mind.

  Of course, Tara would find a way to be there for Shelly—she’d always known when to show up, always known when to pull Shelly back from the edge, even if she acted like she didn’t care.

  The phantom hand squeezed, her grip strong, eyes fierce and steady. “I can see fear in your eyes,” Tara said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you afraid, not even when standing up to the evil, mean-girl bitches back in school.”

  Shelly tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still scarier than you.” She didn’t give voice to the fact that she wasn’t just scared–Shelly was terrified. There was no point in giving that feeling any more control over her than it already had.

  Tara arched a brow, lips quirking at the edges in a way that made Shelly ache with nostalgia. “You know, five years ago, you decided you were going to be my best friend, whether I liked it or not. I thought you were the most annoying person I’d ever met.”

  Shelly snorted, the sound just a chuff in the loud storm. “You still think that.”

  “Sometimes,” Tara admitted, her voice gentle, “but I also know you don’t quit. Not on me, not on anyone. Especially not on Ra. You’re the most relentless person I know, and I am so damn thankful that you never gave up on me.”

  Shelly blinked hard, her throat tight. She remembered the day they met—her shoving her way into Tara’s life, refusing to let her be alone, refusing to let her drown. She’d done it because she’d seen herself in Tara’s loneliness, in the way she tried so hard not to need anything from anyone. Kindred spirits, stubborn to the bone.

  “I’m terrified, T,” Shelly whispered, voice cracking as she finally just gave in to the emotions. They’d only been standing there for a few minutes, but it already felt like an eternity. “What if we’re not enough? What if I’m not enough? What if I lose him?”

  Tara’s phantom grip tightened, her own eyes fierce. “You won’t lose him. Because you are enough. You always have been. That’s what you do, Shelly. You love so hard it scares people. Except for Ra, you’ve never scared him, thank goodness. You’d probably have stalked his butt. And that’s because you fight for what’s yours. You pulled me out of the dark waters when I didn’t even know I was drowning. If anyone can pull Ra back from the edge, it’s you. Even I can see in his eyes that this is doing a number on him, but you got this, and we’ve got your back.”

  The words landed deep, settling into the cracks Shelly tried so hard to patch with jokes and bravado. She squeezed Tara’s phantom hand back, the connection anchoring her, reminding her of who she was. Not just a fighter, not just a smart mouth, but someone who loved with her whole soul—even when it hurt.

  Shelly let out a shaky breath, the fear still there, but muted now by something stronger. “Thanks, T. For never letting me stand alone—even when I was too stubborn to admit I needed you.”

  Tara smiled, tears shining in her eyes. “You’re never alone. Not now, not ever.” Shelly felt as if a forehead was being pressed to her own and realized that it was Tara, using the powerful soul bond again. It lasted for only a heartbeat, but the gesture was as fierce as any battle cry.

  Shelly closed her eyes for a second, letting the feeling sink into her, the strength of her grip settling her nerves. She remembered when Tara had tried to keep everyone at a distance, how Shelly had barreled through every wall she’d put up, refusing to take no for an answer. She’d claimed Tara as her best friend before Tara could even decide if she wanted one, and every trial since had only deepened that bond.

  Now, standing at what felt like the edge of the world, waiting for evil itself to step out of the shadows, Shelly realized how much Tara’s friendship had saved her, too. It had given her someone to fight for, someone who saw her not just as an annoying sidekick, but as a person—a person who could hurt, who could fear, who could love. After another heartbeat, Tara’s presence receded, but the bond was still there. Shelly gave her friend a subtle nod of thanks.

  The wind gusted, carrying the scent of smoke and something sharp and unearthly. The stones seemed to vibrate with the tension, the magic winding tighter, a net waiting to be drawn closed. Shelly watched as Ra glanced her way, their eyes meeting across the circle. In his dark gaze, she saw everything—fear, hope, love, and the desperate plea to hold on, just a little longer.

  She straightened her shoulders, rolling out the tension, and forced herself to breathe deep. She focused on the earth beneath her feet, the pulse of magic in her veins, the memory of every battle they’d won together. She was Shelly. She was a fire elementalist by bond and a fifth soul elementalist by default. She was Ra’s, and he was hers, and she would not let him feel for a second that he had any guilt to bear on his strong shoulders.

  “Whatever happens,” Shelly said to him, loud enough for her voice to travel over the storm, “I’ve got your back.”

  He didn’t smile, not her man. But she felt his gratitude and love through their bond. He didn’t need to give her flowery words. All Ra had to do was look at her and Shelly knew without a doubt that he would not only die for her, but he’d live for her as well. For just a moment, the fear loosened its grip, and hope curled warm and bright in her chest.

  A gale of air and magic swelled around them. She held Ra’s gaze and nodded—once, sharp, and certain. Whatever happened next, she would not break. Not for fear. Not for pain. Not for anything.

  Because she was Shelly. Because she was loved. Because she had fought her way here, with Tara at her side and Ra at her heart. And because she would not let evil win.

  CHAPTER 26

  “As light reveals what hides in the shadows, so shall the actions of a man reveal what hides in his heart.” ~ Ra

  The air inside the stone circle was so thick with magic that Ra could barely breathe. Every lungful tasted of ancient earth, the fizzle of lightning, and the metallic tang of fear and anticipation. His palms were slick, and his heart was a frenzied drumbeat in his chest as the ritual light from the soul-bonded magic flashed and shivered across his skin. The golden cord now encircled the stones, humming with power, each note vibrating up through his boots and into his bones.

  Aurora stood surprisingly steady at his side for one so young, her presence a strange comfort and a raw wound at the same time. He could feel the blood oath—a hungry, living thing—coiling tighter inside him, twisting, pulling him toward the center, toward Viscious. The promise he’d made was a chain around his soul, and the closer this moment came, the more it burned.

  A ripple of unnatural heat swept the circle, setting the hairs on Ra’s arms prickling. Then a portal tore itself open in the air, a jagged wound of black shot with violet light. Viscious stepped through, boots smashing on the soaked grass, head held high, a smirk curving his mouth. Shadows clung to him like a cloak, eyes burning with dark delight as he surveyed the scene.

  He stopped, twenty feet away from Ra and Aurora, his gaze flicking over them with a predator’s lazy confidence. Then he took in the circle—Osiris and Kimba front and center, white light pouring off them in waves, the soul-bonded elementalists around the ring, their joined hands glowing, the golden cord of magic wrapped around every ancient stone.

  Viscious’s nostrils flared, lips peeling back in a sneer. “Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth as warm honey, “isn’t this precious? The last stand of the elemental saints, I mean souls. I must say, Ra, you have a flair for the dramatic. I expected more subtlety from you. And yet here we are—an audience, a stage, and a sacrificial lamb.” He smirked at Aurora, who met his gaze with silent boldness.

  Ra felt the blood oath tug harder, a physical force now, like hands at his back shoving him forward. His skin crawled, his soul howling in protest. The others began their chant, the words ancient and low, twisting around the circle, the power building—a white-hot roar beneath the surface of the world. The royal elementals remained hidden, their strength threading through the ritual, but Viscious’s gaze slid past them without so much as a flickering of acknowledgment.

  Viscious paced, circling, his boots leaving deep impressions in the sodden ground. His voice rose, arrogant and gloating. “Did you really think you could outmaneuver me with tricks and borrowed power? You’ve always been so predictable, Ra. Girl gets taken to underworld, you go rescue her, oh and fall in love. Girl gets taken to hell again, guess what? You head off to attempt to rescue her again! Plot twist, another girl is in danger, and now we’re back to predictable again, because here you are attempting to rescue her again. A bleeding heart, a misplaced sense of loyalty. Did you ever think about what it means to win? Or have you always been content to play the martyr?”

  His gaze flicked to the soul-bonded pairs, lips curling. “Look at you all—so eager to play hero, to stand in the way of progress. You should be thanking me, should be thanking all the dark royals. We have united the elements. We were weak while separated, but look at what we’ve accomplished together.”

  “I wouldn’t say turning demons loose on humans is really something to be proud of,” Aurora said, her voice soft but firm.

  Viscious smiled at her indulgently. “That’s because you’re a child who knows nothing of this amazing world you’re about to become a part of.”

  As he spoke, Ra’s vision shimmered at the edges, the world narrowing to Aurora’s face, the lines of her jaw, and the stubborn set of her mouth. He felt Shelly—her voice, soft but fierce, threading into his mind like a lifeline. “Not yet, Ra. Don’t move. Wait for my word. The moment is coming. You’ll know it. Hand her over when I say—he won’t be able to touch her.”