Davina (Davy Harwood #3)

Lucan smirked to himself and lifted a hand to push through his hair. Silk strands of black hair slid against his fingers. They fell back in place, slightly ruffled. The bottoms touched underneath his ears. “I never told you before. I thought you’d die too soon and I had to get myself ready, but I’m ready now. I’ve been ready. It seems you aren’t. You can’t let go so I’m giving you that last push. It’s time to let go, Davy. My brother will love you in the afterlife, thread or no thread. He won’t care anymore. He’s dead.”


Something hot shot through my core. It jerked my body upright. My arms flew out to the sides and my back arched upward. The cage was big, but I slammed against the top. My chest, chin, and nose smashed against it.

Lucan was finally quiet.

Then my body started to shake again. The fury was white hot. My blood was boiling.

“Kill him,” a voice hissed in my head.

“I can’t,” I gasped out loud.

She hissed back, “You can. The channel is there. Open it. Do it.”

“I don’t know how!”

“Kill him! You want to kill him.”

Lucan was yelling in the distance, but the voice hissed over him. She wanted to break free. She wanted to murder, maim. Her hold over my body wasn’t like it’d been before. The Immortal had been a part of me, but it had always been me. Davy. I was in charge of myself, but this element was something different. Her fury and power was so much, she wanted to overtake me.

Something flashed in her eyes. A white light blinded me, and she smiled at herself. It was evil, filled with rage, and she reached inside. Her hand stretched out and started to cup something in the center of me, possibly my soul. The white light began to become infused with it. It was absorbing it. She was taking control.

Then she was jerked away. The white light slammed back into darkness, and my body crashed to the floor.

My head rolled to the side. Lucan’s shoes were in front of me. I heard the witches behind him, but I heard her whisper to me, “We will be free. Vengeance will be ours.”

Then there was nothing.





SAREN


Saren jerked backwards. Her feet slid against the floor, but the pull stopped as quickly as it had happened. She closed her eyes and reached out to Sireenia. “What has happened?”

“The Immortal is impatient and angry. She is trying to break free on her own.”

Saren’s head moved to the side. “The Mori magic will not allow that.”

“Not yet, no.”

“Then what would happen if she continues to try?”

Saren heard the sadness in her sister’s thoughts. “Davy will die. The Immortal will become its own entity.”

“Then what?”

“Chaos.”

Saren sighed and thought to her, “I will stop it.”

“We are all fused together. You are our body and we are the spirit together. Go to our last sister. She needs us, more than ever now.”

“No, child, you must open all your senses.” Mavic’s frustration was heavy.

Saren returned to her body form and looked to a field below her. The little witch was learning from the traitor sorcerer. They had taken camp in a valley protected by the Independent Army. He was attempting to help the little witch open her mind, body, and soul. Even from her vantage point above them, Saren knew he was only achieving with her ears. The little witch was listening, but she wasn’t doing anything else.

The wind picked up at the moment and swept Saren’s black, blue-tipped hair behind her. Her sword was clasped tightly in front of her, as if she would jump into battle that very moment. Then she sighed. Questions flew around in her head, and she knew the right person to answer them was not in that valley. Though, she would deal with the traitor later, and she would enjoy that moment.





Bastion returned from his scouting route and stood beside Roane. He waited until his arrival was acknowledged before he informed his leader, “They are coming. Due south and headed at a quick pace. They will be here within the hour.”

Roane nodded. Grim. He knew his friend had more on his mind. “You don’t approve of this alliance?”

Bastion chose his words wisely. “The Christane wolves are honorable.”

“You don’t approve of Christian?”

“He loved her as well.”

Then Roane smiled, for the first time in four months. “And you think he still holds a grudge?”

Bastion looked away and stood tall. His lean form showcased his muscles, all developed to help him as the fastest vampire any had seen. His buzzed head had a black feather tattooed on the right side. The left side showed another tattoo written in a language he had spoken to no one. Lucas once asked, but Bastion responded that only one person would know the meaning of that tattoo. He had never spoken of it again. Lucas had never asked.

Over the last four months, Lucas depended more and more on his fastest warrior. He was tempted to ask again about the tattoo, but he always held his tongue. Bastion would share if he chose to.

The vampire responded now, “I think he could love this one, too.”

Lucas was not normally taken aback, but his eyes widened a mere fraction. “You think he will fall in love with Davy?”

“You two have similar tastes . . .” Bastion moved over, a slight inch.

“Christian fell in love with Talia because he spent two summers with her. I was gone, training for the Roane Army. He will not fall for Davy, and even if he did, it doesn’t matter. He knows she is mine.”