IT WAS THE third day in the new village, hidden in the mountains. People were still busy packing their stuff and readying themselves for the long travel north while Davinia had mostly been asleep.

Gillian refused to talk about the funeral, so she stopped bringing up the topic. All she could do was hold his hand and embrace him in bed.

She stole another glance at Gillian's serene, slumbering face. With a sigh, she shuffled out of the arms of a sleeping Gillian and out of bed. New sigils and spells filled the pages of her notebooks. When all of this was over—and she was still alive—she shall start an official book of shadows. One not tainted with Atropa magic.

Her eyes scanned the parchment with precision. Without the ancestor's bond, she might've never found a solution to break the wolves free from the curse, except for the death of the one who cast it, perhaps. She put the books down and opened the window, welcoming the element of wind.

The sharp end of the dagger poked her finger. A couple of drops should be sufficient. Red mixed with the water and the flowers of Eyebright.

Gillian cursed as he jumped out of bed. His fingers wrapped around her wrists. "You need to stop hurting yourself."

"It's only a few drops," she said, sucking her finger. "I needed it."

He shook his head and sat next to her, near enough that she felt his heat.

"What are you scrying for?" Gillian asked, breaking her daydream, and Davinia focused back on what she was doing.

"Guidance." Davinia concentrated on her breathing as she gazed into the bowl. The wind touched her cheek, the wooden floor cold under her, and the sounds of Gillian's soft breaths delved deep inside her soul.

"I pray to..." naturally, she almost started with her mum again, as she had done this past eight years. But it was no use. Her mum wasn't able to reach her anymore. An involuntary tear rolled down her face, and she was too tired of it all to hide it. Gillian reached for her cheek, but stopped midway. He understood by now to stay quiet as she worked, and so he did.

"I pray to the Goddess of the Moon and Earth. Thank you for all your wisdom and power," Davinia spoke. "Please guide me today." Her attention didn't waver for a second as she stared into the water. Ripples spread through the bowl, pulling her in and making her mind float on the surface.

Before her laid two paths through the thick forest. She almost heard the rustles of the leaves. "Which road do I take?"

No one answered.

She glanced over her shoulders and gasped. The path was coloured black. Not only the harsh, bare ground, but the leaves on the trees too. A darkness not only seen but also felt; seeping deep into one's soul and burying inside the bones. Thick, crimson-red blood dripped from the branches of the trees. But not everything was dark. Little bits of moonlight did their best to break through the dense roof of leaves.

Gillian's face shone in one of the light beams. Mira and Dalia in another. A memory of the blooming sunflowers in the field she once lay in brought back a piece of happiness between all the grim darkness. Between the pain, there were blessings. It was all in the past now, and she needed to move forward.

Two options ahead—which way to go?

There wasn't a lot to see. Darkness and some light at the end of the tunnel.

A thunder. Rumbling through the sky and into her body.

Lightning shot from above and hit the tree at the split of the paths. Her heart skipped a beat. An ice-cold wind blew through the forest. She shielded her face with her arm. Rain dripped from the trees.

No, not rain. This substance was thicker.

Davinia looked up as blood fell down on her. It wasn't the same as the past lying behind her. The blood didn't belong here. She sensed it in every fibre of her body. Davinia drew runes of protection around her in the air, but before she finished, a voice rang in her ears. She held her breath. Only a second. Before she exhaled a long one and answered the call. Perhaps it was foolish, but not answering was too. "Welcome, Azura. Does this visit mean you buried your dead?"

"Have you?" Azura's voice echoed through the forest.

"What do you want? Unlike you, I actually have plans that don't involve waiting cowardly in my safe zone."

"My daughter, such harsh words." Davinia heard the smirk in Azura's voice. "Have you not learned to respect your superiors?"

"I have. You're just not one of them."

"Tell me, after everything I did for you—kept you fed, safe, and powerful—when did you decide to betray your own people?"

An almost manic-sounding laugh pushed past Davinia's lips. "My eyes were never closed." Not even at this moment. Azura wanted something. Was she stalling? Whatever it was, Davinia needed to end it. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm kind of busy."

"Come to me at the place we first met within two days," Azura said before Davinia had the chance to break the vision and connection. "Or are you too occupied packing for your trip to the Wolf King in the north?" Azura added. Davinia focused on her breathing. She couldn't let Azura know how she felt. "Come on, daughter. Just you and me. Let's fight this battle the old way."

Davinia didn't know what to answer. The old way? No, Azura would never do that. "I had no intention of going anywhere." But she wasn't stupid. The forest faded away as she withdrew from the vision. "I'll see you within two days. I'll inform you where."

"Either come to Deatura or I hunt down my Neophytes and take them back." The words followed her as an echo as Davinia pulled out of the vision.

Gasping for air, the room returned. Gillian held her in his arms, his eyes wide. "Davinia!" He brushed away a strand of her hair that stuck to her sweat-covered face. "Davinia, answer me."

"I'm here," she said between rapid breaths. "I'm okay."

"Do I need to call for someone? I didn't know if I should've called for someone."

She sat up, resting her cold forehead against Gillian. "I'm okay." Tears streamed down her cheeks as a sob pushed past her lips.

Please don't break down, please don't break down.

She needed to stay strong and prepare. "Gillian," she sobbed. "The tears won't stop."

He embraced her closer to his chest, rocking them back and forward. "It's okay, Davinia. Just let it out."

And she did. She couldn't quite grasp all the emotions rushing through her. It took a while for her to calm down. She sat cross-legged on the bed where Gillian had carried her. He kept glancing over his shoulder at her as he walked out of the room to grab her some tea. Once the green herb tea soothed her nerves, she inhaled a deep and shaky breath.

"I can't go north," she whispered.

"I'm aware." Gillian clenched his jaw, and she met his eyes to read his face. "You would never be able to find peace knowing Azura lives."

"It's more than that." Davinia fiddled with the grey stone cup. "Azura knows where they're heading. She intruded on my vision to tell me so."

Gillian's face turned ashen. There weren't many people he feared, but the high priestesses, especially Heda and Azura, always shook him to the core. And who would blame him? At least the witch children taken from Deatura were worth something to Atropa. The werewolves, however. Useful for some protection against other packs and great sacrifices when they needed one.

"What did she do to you?" Gillian said.

Davinia shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing, really." Her eyebrows pulled together as she was deep in thought. "Azura claims that if I meet with her, she'll leave the others alone, but we can't trust her." Her finger tapped against the cup. "Still, if I meet her and find a way to kill her, it would be a tremendous loss for Atropa and their strength to attack the others."

"And how do you know she won't ambush you?"

"I would be careful."

"We," Gillian corrected her, straightening his back.

"You can't help me fight." She couldn't risk losing Gillian, even if it meant sacrificing her own life.

"But what if I can?" Something sparkled in Gillian's eyes, breaking her heart as they both knew the truth.

"I can't break the curse—"

"I understand, but remember at the village...before Atropa came and destroyed everything we had? There was this beast that needed to be slayed, but the witches weren't able to do it with their magic on their own," Gillian said, but Davinia shook her head. She had no memory of such a beast. "Hm, maybe you were too young."

"You're only three years older." Davinia pouted.

The corners of Gillian's mouth twitched up. "The witches did some sort of spell that gave their strength to the wolves. Lucina must know it still, and we can use it in reverse."

Davinia stared ahead. Could it work? If she channelled as much power as their last fight, Gillian would share the burden this time. But was she capable of doing that to him?

"I won't let you channel the dead again." Gillian pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Let me?" she said. Gillian didn't have the power to stop her.

Gillian seized her hands in his. "Look at your fingers, Davinia. You can't tell me that was pure magic."

She pulled her hands away and hid them in her lap. "What was I supposed to do? It isn't even dark magic." She thought.

"Something that doesn't cost you your life."

Davinia rose to her feet. "Don't judge me for this." She couldn't take the judgement from him. A headache pounded her head.

"You should rest more."

"I only have two days to comply," she said. Out of frustration, she stomped her foot.

"And if you don't take your rest, you can't beat Azura and possibly more witches." He guided her to the bed as a dog led his sheep.

The moment her head rested on the pillow, her eyelids became heavy. "We will work on a plan."

"Yes, we will." He stroked her cheek.

No one shall die anymore—her heart couldn't handle it—she'd win, get her revenge, and they'd be safe, even if it cost her own life.

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩

It's time for the last fight, but who will win?

Place your bets.