He had saved us.
“Olivia, run, now!” His urgent voice shattered the paralysis gripping me. Adrenaline surged through my veins, propelling me to stand and move forward. Clutching Luna tightly, I sprinted away from the lingering danger.
Even as fear pounded in my ears, gratitude for Balthazar bloomed within me. He had risked his own life to save mine and my daughter’s. This was not the same man I had once known—he was stronger, braver, transformed into a protector I hadn’t expected.
“Run!” Balthazar’s voice rang out again, underscored by intense heat. Daring a glance back, I saw another assailant, his terror-stricken face lit by the flames before he was consumed, his body vanishing into an inferno. It was a vision from a nightmare, but in Balthazar’s hands, it became our salvation.
“Roman!” I screamed, blood trickling from my wounded arm as adrenaline pushed me onward. I pressed Luna closer, her cries muffled against my chest. The pain in my arm burned, but the need to protect her eclipsed everything else.
Roman and Amir stormed into the courtyard, Malik close behind with Rosie cradled in his arms. Their faces were etched with a volatile mix of concern and fury, their presence a fleeting beacon of hope. But relief was a luxury we couldn’t afford—it vanished as quickly as it came.
The five of us moved as one, our feet pounding the ground, desperately trying to escape the lurking threat. But our flight was abruptly halted.
Mathias and Salvatore materialized before us.
I skidded to a halt, my breath coming in ragged gasps as my heart thundered in my chest. The full moon illuminated their forms, their presence casting a suffocating shadow over the courtyard.
“Excellent work vanquishing the men I sent to apprehend you,” Salvatore drawled, his voice dripping with mockery.
A guttural scream of rage tore from my throat.
“Where are you running off to?” he asked, his sharp smile cutting through the night like broken glass. His gaze was icy and calculating, a predator savoring its cornered prey.
Roman’s steady presence anchored me, his hand brushing my back as if to remind me I wasn’t alone. I met Salvatore’s gaze head-on, unflinching despite the storm of terror raging within me.
“I’m going to defeat you,” I said, my voice hard with conviction.
“Are you now, my darling?” Salvatore’s tone was laced with amusement.
“I will destroy you,” I promised, though doubt coiled in the depths of my mind, whispering insidious uncertainties. But I stood tall, refusing to waver.
Salvatore’s smirk widened, a cruel twist of his lips as he stepped closer.
“Go on then and time travel,” he said, his voice laced with mockery as he advanced.
Confusion warred with fear within me. Why was he allowing us to leave?
“Your time travel daggers will no longer work since you connected the blades. Time travelers around the world are now stranded,” Salvatore declared, triumph gleaming in his eyes like polished steel.
A knot of dread lodged in my throat. The merging of the sun and moon daggers—the victory we had clung to so fiercely—had inadvertently sealed our fate. Standing before Salvatore, the full extent of our peril unfurled like a storm cloud overhead.
“Fight!” Amir’s command rang out like a thunderclap. From the shadows, Amir’s army of black-clad warriors emerged in a haunting procession, their movements fluid and silent, like specters materializing from the void. They moved precisely, weapons gleaming under the moonlight as they surrounded us.
But Salvatore’s power was overwhelming. With a mere flick of his wrists, the darkness engulfed them. One by one, Amir’s warriors doubled over in agony, their anguished groans piercing the charged air. Balthazar fell to his knees, his eyes bulging with pain. Always so strong and proud, Malik crumbled under the weight of an invisible force. Even Amir himself—regal and commanding—was reduced to a writhing figure on the ground.
The earth trembled beneath us as the knees of his entire army buckled in unison, their bodies collapsing like marionettes whose strings had been severed. I stood frozen, my heart pounding like a war drum, clutching Luna to my chest as her cries echoed in the night.
Beside me, Roman gently took Luna from my trembling arms. His strength was my anchor, grounding me amidst the chaos.
Roman guided the knife over Rosie’s and Luna’s tiny palms, his hands steady despite the anguish in his eyes. He tried to make the incision as gentle as possible, but even with his delicate touch, Luna’s piercing screams cut through the air, and Rosie wailed in pain. Their little hands trembled, tears streaming down their cheeks, each cry tugging at my heartstrings like a cruel melody. But I couldn’t falter now. I couldn’t let despair win.
“Watch me time travel,” I spat at Salvatore, trying to mask the tremor in my voice. With a resolute glare, I drew my dagger across my palm, the sharp sting of a line of fire. Blood welled up, hot and vivid against my skin. I raised the blade, reciting the scripture with a fervor that bordered on desperation.
The words fell flat.
The air remained still, and the dagger in my hand was cold, lifeless—an inert weight dripping with my blood. A wave of panic surged through me as I stared at the weapon, my voice faltering. The dagger that had once been a vessel of power now felt like a cruel betrayal. How could this be happening? The world had turned against me when I needed it most.
From the shadows, Mathias’ laughter joined Salvatore’s, the sound intertwining into a cruel harmony that echoed like a mocking hymn.
