Page 117 of Wedded Witch
For a moment, time seems to slow. Morfran’s eyes widen in shock, his body convulsing as the force of our attack brings him to his knees. This is it. This is the moment.
We pause, waiting for Swyn’s final Aether attack, and when it hits, he slumps.
With a final, deafening roar, we tear him apart.
The dark magic that had once clung to him dissipates, vanishing into the air like smoke. His body crumbles into dust, his essence obliterated.
But the victory is short-lived.
As Morfran’s final blow arcs through the air, a pulse of dark energy erupts from his crumbling form, slamming into us with a force that feels like a battering ram.
It’s his death curse—his last desperate attempt to take us with him.
Pain explodes through me, our massive body buckling under the impact. The magic sears through flesh and bone, and for thefirst time, I feel the bond fraying at the edges, the three of us losing our grip on our combined form.
The force of it all is too much.
With a sickening thud, we collapse, the weight of our giant body crashing into the ground. The impact shakes the earth, dust and debris rising around us like a shroud.
Darkness edges in on my vision, and the last thing I hear before everything fades is Swyn’s voice—screaming my name.
SWYN
My heart pounds,echoing the deafening silence that follows the fall of the Cerberus. Dust hangs in the air like a heavy mist, and all I can hear is the rushing of my own blood, the wild rhythm of panic pulsing through me.
“Ri! Kel! Sol!” I scream their names, but there’s no response.
My feet move before I can even think, and I’m running—desperate—towards where they fell, to the massive form of the Cerberus crumpled on the ground.
The great beast, my mates, lies unnaturally still, their once-mighty form now broken.
Mavis and Oland are shouting behind me, telling me to wait, to be careful. But I can’t stop. I can’t breathe. I can’t think beyond the sight of them collapsed in the dirt.
I skid to a stop next to their massive body, my hands trembling as I reach out to touch the fur of their flank. It’s warm, but there’s no movement—no rise and fall of breath.
“No,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “No, please…”
I kneel beside them, my hands shaking, heart in my throat as I press my palms against the cold floor. The Cerberus liessprawled, motionless. A beast brought to its knees, and with it, three of the men I love more than life itself.
It’s taken losing them to realise.
Too little, too late, Swyn.
Blood stains their fur, and I can barely breathe as I lean closer, searching for any sign of life.
The world feels like it’s spinning out of control, the adrenaline from the battle still pounding in my veins. Morfran is gone, defeated, but at what cost?
The air is heavy with the scent of burnt magic, the remnants of our final clash hanging thick around me. But I can’t focus on any of that. I can’t think about victory or curses or Aether magic.
All I can think about is them.
My vision blurs with unshed tears, and I force myself to look up at the three heads of the Cerberus. They’re all frozen in place, their expressions locked in death. But I refuse to believe it.
Theycan’tbe gone. Not after everything. Not now.
Ri’s fur is matted with blood, his powerful form unnervingly still. Kel, usually so full of energy and life, lies in a heap, his fur darkened with soot. And Sol—light-hearted, always the one to bring warmth and levity—his chest barely rises and falls, his breathing shallow.
I press a trembling hand against Sol’s chest, needing to feel something, anything to tell me he’s still alive.