Immortal Reign(109)

Light, too, shot out of Magnus’s eyes, his mouth, his hands. He couldn’t see, couldn’t think. But he could feel.

Cleo’s hand still gripped his.

“Don’t you dare let go of me,” he roared at her past the deafening whooshing sound sweeping through the throne room. A windstorm enveloped them, threatening to carry them away. A violent earthquake shook the ground beneath their feet.

“The others!” Cleo screamed.

Yes, the others. Magnus searched the chaos surrounding him until he saw Olivia. She held on to Taran like he held on to Cleo.

He reached toward her, and she grabbed hold of his hand. Cleo did the same with Taran. Taran’s nose was bleeding, and his face was bruised and bloody. Olivia’s gaze was wild, fearful, but still fierce and ready to fight.

Chunks of marble fell from the destroyed ceiling, narrowly missing them as the wind swirled around and the floor nearby split wide open.

“I’m sorry!” Olivia yelled, but it was barely audible above the sound of the elemental storm surging around them.

“None of this is your fault!” Cleo replied.

Magnus would like to argue that this was, in part, Olivia’s fault, but there was no time.

“Bloody weak,” Taran growled. “I should have fought harder.”

“Yes, you should have,” Magnus said. “But you’re still here.”

“Just in time for us all to die.”

A monstrous burst of fire erupted in front of Magnus. He jumped back as the fire grew. He could feel its heat searing his skin.

“No,” Magnus growled. “I didn’t survive this long to give up now.”

“Your sister is helping them,” Taran hurled back at him, his words nearly stolen completely by a series of swirling tornadoes that circled them. Magnus eyed them uneasily, knowing each one could tear them apart if they got too close.

They should have been torn apart by now—by all of this. But they weren’t. Not yet.

“My sister, in case you are incapable of understanding this,” Magnus said without a single doubt in the world, “is helping us.”

Lucia would save the world. Why had Magnus doubted her for even a moment?

He was such a fool.

He lost his grip on Olivia’s hand, and she flew backward from him. “No!” he yelled.

Cleo squeezed his hand hard, and he looked at her, nearly blind from the beam of destructive light that had torn the throne room apart.

Taran was nowhere to be seen.

“Forever,” she said, tears streaking her face. “Whatever happens—you and me are together forever. All right?”

“You and me,” he agreed. “Until eternity. I love you, Cleo.”

“I love you, Magnus.”

He’d never heard more beautiful words in his entire life.

Cleo buried her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, refusing to ever let go of her, no matter what happened.

The light grew brighter and brighter.

The wind howled. The fire burned. The earth itself shook and shattered beneath their feet.

And then . . .

Then it was all over.





CHAPTER 34


    JONAS


   AURANOS




It felt as if the Forbidden Mountains themselves had crashed down on top of him.

The throne room was in ruin. Light from the sky shone down onto Jonas, brightening the remains of what had once been the golden palace. He tried to turn his head to see who was there, who was hurt or dead, but the pain made him scream.

“Hold still, you fool,” Lucia said. “You have a broken neck.”

“Broken neck—?” he managed. “Nic . . . Nic is hurt. Worse than me. Help him first.”

“I already did,” Lucia told him. “Ashur insisted. He’ll be fine. Now stay still and be quiet so I can heal you.” She placed her hands on his neck, and a burning sensation made him yelp as it sank deep into his throat, his spine, so intense he thought he might pass out from it.

And then the pain was gone.

Lucia looked down at him.

“You healed me,” he said weakly.

“Of course I did. I mean, it’s your elementia I’m currently using.”

He blinked. “I was dead.”

“I hear you’ve been dead a lot.”

“I think this is my third time. Or second and a half, anyway.”

“It’s the least I could do after . . .” Lucia drew in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for what I did. At the time, I felt I had no choice.”

Jonas touched her face, brushing the dark hair off her forehead. “Of course I forgive you.”

She stared down at him with surprise. “That easily?”

He grinned. “Sure. Not everything has to be a struggle. Not today, anyway.”

“I still don’t know where my daughter is,” Lucia said, her voice breaking.

Jonas took her hands in his. “We’ll find her. Wherever she is, however long it takes, we will find her together.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“You just saved every one of our arses with that stolen magic . . . and that dagger . . .” Jonas strained to see the altar where the orbs had been, but there was nothing left, only a black scorch mark.