Shadow Descendant (Descendants Book 1) Page 17

  "We don't have time," Naomi said, worried. She recalled the determination and rage on Raphael's face as he forced her to utter seffa. She just knew that he was doing everything in his power to unleash the spell without her.

  "I know," Madalena conceded, "but Casimir and the others are following leads now, and we're talking to other Alliance members. This isn't all on your shoulders. Try not to put so much pressure on yourself. Why not take a break?"

  She heeded Madalena's advice. After she made herself eat breakfast, her stomach rumbling in appreciation as she downed the muffins and fruit, she headed towards the back gardens.

  Making her way through the path that led past clusters of gardenias, roses, and lilies, her chest tightened. She would forever associate these gardens with the moonlit walks she'd taken with Alaric. She paused by a rose bush, her eyes glistening. This was where Alaric had kissed her that first night. She remembered the sweet scent of wine on his breath as his lips claimed hers, the weight of his strong body pressed against hers.

  Naomi stiffened, sensing a presence behind her. She turned. Alaric stood there, ten feet away, his eyes pained as they met hers. Her chest tightened at the sight of him; the tousled dark hair, cerulean blue eyes, the full lips that had once been on every part of her body. He was, as always, breathtaking. Beautiful. Otherworldly. And God, she loved him.

  Now, he studied her with such raw longing that she had to fight the urge to throw herself into his arms like a lovesick fool.

  "Madalena tried to break the Bond. It didn't take," she said with stiff lips, lowering her gaze. "She'll try again."

  "Naomi—“

  "I need to be alone," she said, though it physically pained her to turn and walk away. Was it her love for him or their bond that caused the pain? It was probably both. But she needed to get away; she couldn't bear for him to apologize, or tell her he was just trying to protect her, or any other excuse for his rejection. He didn't return her feelings, she needed to accept it.

  To her relief, he didn't follow, and she slowed her pace. She paused next to a row of white lilies. It was here, several nights ago, that she'd explained what magic felt like to Alaric, running her hand up his bare arm. This time, instead of focusing on her heartbreak, she focused on the joy that had spiraled through her at that moment; the burgeoning love. A lightness flowed through her at the memory, and her shoulders relaxed.

  She stilled, considering something. Madalena had continually reminded her that emotions influenced magic. That was the case with all witches.

  All witches. Including Raphael.

  A realization hit her with the force of a thunderbolt. She'd avoided thinking about Raphael since returning to the estate, not wanting to relive what she'd suffered at his hands. But maybe that's who she should have been focused on all along.

  She touched the knife wound at the base of her throat, shivering at the memory. In her mind's eye, she could see Raphael's rage infused expression as he pressed the blade into her skin. Dark emotions had driven his actions.

  Heart hammering, she found a small circular clearing in the center of the garden, surrounded on all side by deep red roses. She took a seat in its center, crossing her legs.

  It took several moments for her to clear her mind, and once she did, she reached up to touch the wound on her throat, picturing Raphael. Pushing past the revulsion that coiled through her, she recalled every detail of his angular face; from his broad forehead and high cheekbones, to his grey eyes and burnished blonde hair. She recalled the sound of his voice; cultured with the barest hint of an Italian accent, and the hot sensation of his breath on her face as he leaned in close to her. Once she had a vivid image of him in her mind, she recited the spell. Reveal yourself to me.

  At first, there was nothing. And then, after several long moments, a range of emotions filled her. Emotions that weren't her own. They were faint at first, just like the whispers, but soon rose, swelling like a tidal wave in her chest.

  Blazing anger filled her body. Deep frustration. More anger that spiraled into rage. The rage soon subsided to . . . calm. Hope.

  These were Raphael's emotions; she was certain of it. She repeated the spell in her mind, over and over again, keeping her fingers on the wound at her throat. Reveal yourself to me.

  The image of Raphael faded, and she was standing on a pristine white beach, looking out at the blue waters of the Aegean. In the near distance, there was a sealed off archeological site, filled with the ruins of a Bronze Age settlement. As she stood there, hope and anticipation rose in her chest.

  Naomi's eyes flew open. Her heart hammered against her ribcage.

  She knew what Raphael was planning.

  "Goddess," Madalena breathed.

  Naomi now stood in the study with Madalena and the others; she'd just revealed what she saw. She felt Alaric's eyes on her; he stood apart from the others, leaning against the wall, and she had to will herself to not look at him.

  "I recognize the island—and the ruins," Naomi said. "It's the island of Nisos in Greece. It's where my museum uncovered the Stone on the archeological dig."

  "Raphael's taken the Stone to its original location. Magical objects have the greatest power at the places they were created," Madalena whispered. "He'll try to activate the spell. He may try to use your blood—plenty of it must have gotten on him when he cut you."

  "Will he succeed?" Naomi asked.

  "I don't know. I doubt it; but there are too many unknowns for me to say for sure. We don't want to take the chance of him succeeding," Madalena said. "I'll alert the pilot. Casimir, see if you can run surveillance on the island; we need to know how many others he has with him. Elias, we need to reach out to other Alliance members who can come with us. We'll need more manpower. Alaric, can you reach out to Maximillian? Do you think he can be trusted?"

  Naomi finally looked at Alaric, who was staring at her. He looked away, meeting Madalena's eyes.

  "He got me and Naomi out of Athens. He could have easily captured us if he was working for the Order. I trust him."

  Madalena nodded, approaching Naomi. She gripped her hands, lowering her voice. "Are you sure you want to do this? As far as I know, this is the first time a Descendant's attempted to destroy the Stone. It's unprecedented. I don't know how this will turn out."

  A stirring of fear spiraled around her, but she was determined to see this through. She thought of her parents' sacrifice; of all the people who would die if the spell was unleashed.

  "Yes," Naomi said, “I’m ready."

  A glint of admiration shone in Madalena's eyes before she gave her hand a final squeeze.

  Instinctively, she turned to the wall where Alaric had stood, but he was already gone.

  Chapter 29

  Alaric sat alone in the back of Madalena's plane, his eyes pinned on Naomi. She sat in the front next to Madalena, her rigid back facing him.

  Before they left, he'd made no attempt to stop her, to change her mind about confronting Raphael. He'd been a fool to ever try and send her away, to make her turn her back on who she really was; a brave and increasingly powerful witch. She was determined, passionate, intelligent, and fierce. It was why he loved her.

  He didn't deny or push back against the thought. He loved Naomi. He'd suspected the gravity of his feelings for her the moment he laid eyes on her in Athens. He recalled the moment he'd first laid eyes on her as she left her museum; tucking the strap of her bag around her shoulder, her hazel eyes focused on the bustling street around her, stray hairs falling loose from her ponytail and fluttering around her face in the breeze. A strong wave of desire hit him at the sight of her, but beyond the desire, there had been intrigue. He'd wanted to know more about her; beyond the details in the file the Alliance had given him. What made her laugh? What did she think of when she woke up in the morning? When she went to bed at night? Why had she chosen to go into the academic field? What was it about history that fascinated her?

  That desire and intrigue had expanded as he came to know her u
ntil it became the all-consuming love that at first he didn't want; love he denied because of his fear.

  Regret clenched his chest, and for a moment he couldn't breathe. He should have told her how he felt when she confessed her love for him. Joy he'd not experienced in a century exploded in his chest when she told him she didn't care about his past, that she loved him anyway. But he'd warned her off; wanting to protect her. And now, going into the most dangerous battle of their lives, she thought he didn't return her feelings. He did return them, more than she could know.

  If something happens to her . . . she'll never know. He shook away the thought. If it came to it, he'd sacrifice his life for her. That's all he'd ever wanted—for her to be safe and alive. Even if it was without him.

  Studying the rigid set of her back, he could detect her resolve. She was determined to go to battle, to fight for a cause she'd not even known of until recently. Pride swelled in his chest, along with his love; how far she'd come, from a woman who'd only known life as an anxiety filled human, to a witch who bravely took on the insurmountable task asked of her.

  He should have told her this, all of this, but his fear had blinded him.

  He kept his gaze trained on her during the entire three-hour flight to Greece, willing her to look at him, but she never glanced back. It served him right; he'd done an excellent job of pushing her away.

  It was only when the plane began its descent that she glanced back at him; it was fleeting look, her expression was guarded, and he had no time to communicate anything with his eyes before she looked away again.

  His heart splintered a little at her distance, but he reminded himself that it was his doing.

  They were landing on the island of Kos; their destination island of Nisos was too small to warrant an airport. But Nisos was close enough for them to apparate to. Nisos was sparsely inhabited, there was a single town on the island, but it was on the opposite side of where they were heading.

  This was for the best; Raphael and his Order would notice Madalena's private plane landing on the island.

  Maximillian and twenty other Alliance members were waiting for them on the tarmac when they arrived. The other Alliance members comprised twelve witches and eight vampires, he recognized none of them, which made him nervous. But Madalena, Elias and Casimir seemed to recognize most of them, greeting them warmly.

  "Thanks for doing this," Alaric said, as he approached Maximillian. Maximillian had retired from the Alliance, Alaric had feared he wouldn't join them.

  "I wasn't going to miss the action," Maximillian said, winking, before his face turned grave. "I want to help stop those lunatic witches."

  Alaric stepped aside as Elias and Casimir greeted Maximillian. Elias met his eyes briefly; before they'd left the estate, Alaric had taken him aside to apologize for his part in their fight. Elias had accepted, but he was still a little reserved around him. He found that he missed Elias' teasing jabs, it would've lightened up the dire mood of the past few hours.

  "As discussed, we'll approach in two groups," Madalena said, addressing everyone as they gathered around. Naomi stood at her side, standing perfectly still, though he could tell by her fluttering pulse that she was nervous. "Naomi remains our number one priority. We focus on fighting them while she destroys the Stone."

  They nodded in agreement, the tension plain on everyone's faces. They knew what was at stake. If Raphael unleashed the spell, countless humans and vampires would die.

  They parted into their two groups. Alaric instantly moved to Naomi's side. His heart sank when she stiffened, but he pushed aside his wounded pride. He took her hand. Relief swept through him when she didn't pull away.

  "You can do this, Naomi," he murmured, low enough for only her ears. "We believe in you." I love you, he silently added. She met his eyes. He held her gaze, praying she could see his love for her in his eyes, or feel it through their bond, which he was now grateful that Madalena couldn't break. He heard her heart rate increase. I love you, Naomi. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Could she sense his love for her? Hear his words? I love you.

  "Are we ready?" Madalena asked. She reached out to link her arms with their group, which included Casimir, Elias, and Maximillian. The other group had already apparated; they'd distract Raphael's guard dogs while their group approached Raphael and the Stone.

  Naomi tore her gaze away from his, and he clutched her hand as Madalena apparated them; a vortex of wind surrounded them, and his body was sucked into the vortex—

  They arrived on the shore of the island to utter chaos.

  Chapter 30

  Panic crashed into Naomi. Dozens of Order witches darted towards them as soon as they arrived on the shore. They knew we were coming, she thought, rattled. Most of them made a beeline for her; Alaric and the others moved in front of her in a protective flank.

  But she wasn't going to stand on the sidelines while others fought for her; not this time. She lifted her hand, silently issuing a Repelling spell. A ripple of electricity coursed through her body as the spell erupted from her fingertips, hurling back four witches who flew towards them.

  The others fought the Order witches with both physical attacks and spells. She rushed forward to help, but Alaric moved protectively in front of her. She reached out to grip his arm, giving him a look. Let me fight. Their bond was working; he seemed to understand, and though he hesitated for a split second, he stepped aside to let her charge forward.

  As soon as she did, a spell hit her in the chest, knocking her flat on her back. Alaric leapt onto the witch who'd cast it, his fangs bared as he ripped out her throat.

  Two witches leapt onto Alaric, and as he fought them off, Naomi stumbled to her feet. She tried to cast a Repelling spell on the witches who surrounded Alaric, but they were moving too quickly.

  Madalena's cry of pain caught Naomi's attention. Amidst the fray, she saw that a witch had pinned Madalena to the ground. Naomi scrambled towards them, shouting a Levitation spell, and the witch was jerked off of Madalena. Shooting to her feet, Madalena cast a spell that hurled the witch dozens of feet away.

  Madalena turned to give Naomi a nod of gratitude, but she was yanked high into the air—impossibly high—by another Order witch. Naomi scrambled forward, shouting a counter spell, but it was too late; Madalena plummeted to the ground, her body landing on the beach with a sickening crunch.

  "NO!" Naomi cried, hurrying towards Madalena's still body, but an Order witch leapt into her path, grabbing her by the throat.

  Alaric was at Naomi's side at once, releasing her from the witch's grip, reaching out to snap her neck in a brutally efficient move.

  "Madalena—" Naomi wept, as Alaric held her back. Madalena lie on the beach, her eyes closed, still.

  "I know," Alaric said, his voice breaking, "but we have to go. This is a distraction. We have to get to the site and stop Raphael. Madalena would want us to keep going. The priority is destroying the Stone."

  Grief coiled through her, though she knew he was right. Please don't let her be dead. In the midst of the fighting, she saw Elias launch himself at the witch who'd attacked Madalena, while Casimir kneeled over her still body.

  Several more witches dashed towards them, their hands raised to toss spells their way. Alaric gripped her arm.

  "We have to go!" he shouted. "Hold on to me."

  Naomi obeyed, linking her arm through his as he sped them away from the sea of fighting witches and vampires; it was just like being apparated; her surroundings flashed by in a dizzying blur.

  They arrived within a small cluster of trees; several hundred feet ahead she could see the archeological site. Raphael and several other members of the Order stood in the center of the site, a circular path of stones surrounding them. A cold dread filled her chest when she saw the Stone hovering before Raphael. He was already attempting to activate the spell.

  Just beyond the archeological site, she saw the second group of Alliance members fighting more Order members. But the Order members outnumbered them. They wer
e losing.

  Alarm rose in Naomi's chest. How were they going to defeat them? Did she have it in her to destroy the Stone? She felt as if she'd only accessed a tenth of her full power.

  Use the power you have, she thought, shaking away her doubts. She couldn't afford to let self-defeating thoughts sway her; magic and emotions were inextricably entwined.

  "I'll distract them," Alaric said, looking down at her. "Hopefully, the others will soon join us. We'll keep them occupied while you focus on the Stone. No matter what happens—as soon as you destroy the Stone, get the hell out of here. Even if you can't destroy the Stone, get out of here."

  Her heart plummeted at his words. No matter what happens. No matter what happened to him.

  "And—Naomi," he continued, his voice wavering. He swallowed, his eyes taking in every inch of her face, as if memorizing her features. "I should have told you this before. If this is my last chance—“

  "Don't," Naomi interrupted, a fresh wave of tears stinging her eyes. "This won't be your last opportunity. Tell me after—“

  "I love you."

  A small sliver of joy swelled in her chest, but it was encompassed in fear. She didn't like the tone of finality in his words. He reached down to place a cold hand on the side of her face, and she leaned in to it, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I love you more than I've loved anyone. More than I thought was possible. More than I thought I was capable of."

  He kissed her. She clung to him, joy, love and anxiety battling for dominance in her heart. His words were everything she wanted to hear; she desperately wished it was under different circumstances.

  They broke apart, and he rested his forehead on hers, his blue eyes glistening with blood tears as he searched her eyes.

  "Destroy the Stone, Naomi. End this."

  "I will," she whispered.

  He took her in his arms, giving her one last look, silently asking if she was ready.

  She nodded, her heart thundering in her ears, and in a flash of movement he sped them to the archeological site, right to where Raphael and the others stood.