Slowly, the fog in my mind cleared. I released Doyle's leg, panting heavily as I finally broke free from her grip.
My senses returned in a rush, clarity and freedom flooding back. I was done being her puppet.
“It’s too late,” Liliana sneered at me, her eyes now blazing with anger.
I turned to face her, my body now fully under my control.
I'm not your weapon anymore, I thought, a plan forming in my mind. Liliana's spell was almost complete.
I could see the dark energy swirling around her hands, ready to be unleashed.
I ran at her, pushing myself to my limits. She barely had time to react as I knocked her off balance, disrupting her concentration.
The tables had finally turned. The dark energy dissipated for a moment, but I knew she could easily recover.
We had to end her now.
Doyle, now free from my bite, unleashed a torrent of dragon fire, consuming Liliana in its purifying flames.
Her screams echoed through the chamber as she burned.
I looked up at Doyle, smiling when he pulled me into a tight embrace.
He had never given up on me once, I thought, and I would never forget that. Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. It was finally over.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MICHAEL
As much asI wanted to head to Doyle's cozy cabin and stay holed up there for a week, without any distractions, we had other matters to take care of.
First and foremost was making sure my dad was okay.
"Everything good?" I asked Doyle after he made a phone call to Zane.
"Yeah, Ivan will come up here, clean this mess up," Doyle said. "You doing good?"
"Yeah, let's go see my dad. And... you need to get your wounds checked. Don't worry, Oak Meadow Medical is used to shifters," I reassured him.
At the hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as we walked through the bustling corridors.
Doyle was immediately whisked away by a nurse, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I headed to my dad's room.
My heart pounded with a mixture of relief and anxiety.
I found my dad fast asleep, his face peaceful despite the bandages and IV lines.
Seeing him like this, I felt a wave of gratitude that Doyle had arrived in time.
The wounds, though serious, were not fatal.
"Hey, Mike," my dad rasped, startling me as he stirred and opened his eyes. "Is that really you?"
"It is," I said, standing up to pour a glass of water for him.
He drank slowly, the tension in his face easing.
I sat beside him and began to relate everything that had happened in the Silvercrest Mine.
