Chapter Twenty-Two

“No!” The word burst from inside him.

The woman he loved. The woman he’d claimed with his heart, his body, and his soul—had faded from all existence before his very eyes.

He’d fallen to the ground, knowing the injuries he sustained from that damn wolf were fatal. But warmth had lit inside his chest, and he’d opened his eyes to discover a bright glow hovering above him, and the breathtaking image of Rowan’s face in the darkness beyond, her hair flowing around her more black than red.

And now she was gone.

He jumped to his feet and sprinted for the house. Grey had no fucking clue what was going on, but no way in hell was he losing Rowan. Not now. Not when he’d finally found her. The burning sigil on his chest told him this story couldn’t be over yet.

Grey burst into the house intending to bring every mage, every creature with power, here to fix this. He had to save her.

He pulled up short at the sight of his daughters, standing in a circle in the middle of the family room among shards of glass from the shattered windows, and most of the furniture toppled over. Hands clasped, they swayed and glowed, like they did in the forest.

“Is Rowan still here?” Chloe asked.

She kept her eyes trained on the center of the circle, appearing to listen. So did Lachlyn and Atleigh.

“Girls?” he asked. Not expecting an answer.

“Grandma Essie’s here, Dad,” Atleigh answered, even as she kept her gaze locked on whatever she saw. Shock retreated behind a tidal wave of emotions he had no hope of sorting out.

“Is Rowan there, too?”

Atleigh gave a small shake of her head. But she stopped mid-shake, her shoulders stiffening. “Is that possible?”

Grey’s heart thundered inside him. Was what possible?

The three took a shuddering breath all at the same time.

He couldn’t handle the stress. “What?” he urged. “Is what possible?

“Grandma Essie says Rowan isn’t completely gone. Not yet.”

“Please save her,” Lachlyn’s cry burst from her and about broke his heart.

“Save her, Grandma,” Chloe cried out next, Atleigh echoing her.

“Save her. Save Rowan.” His daughters’ voices entwined and wound together. Repeating the words, the pleas. In the glow of their power, tears seeped from his daughters’ eyes.

Then suddenly they stopped, silence crashing down around them, sucking the sound from the room.

“Thank you,” Chloe whispered, the words breaking.

“Dad,” Lachlyn said. “She can save her with your help.” They still stared into the center of the circle where nothing stood.

“How?” Anything.

“Do exactly as we say. Okay?”

He nodded.

“Stand in the corner that’s always cold.” The command came from all three girls. Emotionless. Like a chant.

Grey rushed to do their bidding, shivering as a draft of chilly air brushed over his skin in the spot by the fireplace. “The cold you feel is Grandma Essie.”

Had she been here all this time?

“Gather your magic inside you,” the girls intoned. “Be ready.”

Grey closed his eyes, drawing on every reserve inside him, allowing the magic to tingle through his blood, pooling into his chest and creating warmth on the edge of burning.

“Repeat these words… Satu Arammu Ina Etu Mitu Adi Nuru.”

He could be repeating the recipe to end every life in the world for all he understood. The words must be ancient. As soon as he spoke them, the warmth of the energy inside him drained, leaving a cold, dark void in its wake.

But, somehow, he wasn’t tired. At first, nothing happened. Then a pinpoint of light came to life beside him. As he watched, an old woman materialized before his eyes. “Grandma Essie?”

She nodded. “I’ve been watching over you since the day I died,” she said. Her voice sounded like Rowan’s had earlier, as though she were speaking down a tunnel or on one of those old phonographs. “Though I didn’t know I’d do this.”

“Do what?”

“I am giving up my essence, my soul, to bring your Rowan back from the brink.”

Everything inside him locked up. “What does that mean?”

Already, her aged figure was fading, as Rowan’s had in the woods. “It’s all right. I’m going to be with your grandfather now.”

The moment too much to process, he could only nod. He stared at the face of a woman he’d known such a short time in life, but whose love he could feel radiating throughout the room. He stared as she faded to nothing, till only a shadow of her eyes lingered. And then…she was gone.

But where was Rowan?

He glanced at his girls, who stood in their trance, unmoving. They waited in silence for what felt like an interminable age. Then Chloe gasped.

He couldn’t see anything.

“We can see her,” they said in unison.

“Where?”

“Here.” A few long moments passed before the girls spoke again. “Rowan? Can you hear us?”

A pause and he held his breath.

“Can you get back to us?” they asked next.

He couldn’t see her or any reaction from his children. Just nothing. “What’s happening?”

“Watch.” Atleigh nodded to the spot toward which she was talking.

As he watched, suddenly the blurry vision of a woman started to materialize. At first so faint he couldn’t see her features, the lines and edges of her face and body came into sharper and sharper focus. “Rowan,” he whispered.

He started forward, but the girls held their circle closed against him. “Wait.”

It took every ounce of willpower not to rush across the space to Rowan’s side, but he did as he was told. Sure enough, her figure started to solidify before his eyes. The process was agonizing to watch. If Rowan’s ragged breathing and pained expression were anything to go by, the process didn’t appear pleasant to experience, either.

Finally, with a gut-wrenching moan, Rowan fell to her hands and knees, whole and with him, heaving with the effort.

At the same time, the girls let go of one another, the glow disappearing as they blinked owlishly, almost seeming lost. He had no idea who to run to first.

“We’re okay, Dad,” Lachlyn said.

“Rowan needs you,” Atleigh added.

He didn’t even remember crossing the room. He just knew he was at Rowan’s side, pulling her shaking body into his arms. “You came back to us.”

She took a shuddering breath, her entire body quivering. “Your grandmother…”

Her voice was hardly a whisper, and he smoothed her hair back from her face. “Shhhh… Rest now. My grandmother helped you, but she’s passed on. She’s with my grandfather now, she said.”

She sagged, her eyes fluttering closed, the lashes starkly dark against her too-pale skin. “You shouldn’t love me,” she mumbled just before her head lolled back, out cold.