Chapter 790
The Breaking
Selith moved with practiced precision, her crooked fingers arranging the herbs and tools on the stone table. The jar sat at the center of the symbols she had drawn earlier, its dark surface gleaming faintly in the candlelight. Victoria stood nearby, her arms crossed, her expression a mixture of impatience and barely contained fury.
“I’m going to reconnect you to your daughter,” Selith said, her voice low and steady. “Once the connection is established, you will speak with her.”
Victoria nodded, her jaw tight. “I know already. Just do it.”
Selith began to chant, her voice rising and falling in rhythm. The words were harsh and guttural, unfamiliar to Victoria’s ears. The symbols on the floor began to glow, pulsing with a sickly light that seemed to push against the shadows in the corners of the chamber.
The jar trembled slightly.
Victoria closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind, searching for the connection that should have been there. She could feel something—a faint pulse, like a distant heartbeat. She pushed harder, reaching toward it.
And then, she screamed.
The sound tore from her throat, raw and violent, echoing off the stone walls. Her body convulsed as pain exploded through her skull, as if someone had driven a blade directly into her brain.
At the same moment, Selith coughed violently. Blood spilled from her lips, splattering against the symbols on the floor. She staggered, her hand flying to her chest as a burning sensation spread through her ribcage.
“What—” Victoria gasped, her hand clutching her head. “What just happened?”
Selith shook her head, her eyes wide with confusion. “I don’t understand. I don’t—”
Before she could finish, the jar began to shake violently again. It rattled against the stone floor, the sound harsh and discordant, as if something inside was trying to tear its way out, exactly the same as before.
Victoria groaned, pressing her palms against her ears. She heard a screeching sound, and it felt like her ears were going to burst. Her wolf surged forward, claws extending, teeth lengthening, her body straining against the urge to shift.
Selith was already moving, her shuffling steps carrying her across the chamber. She grabbed a tattered book from one of the shelves, its pages yellowed and brittle, and began flipping through it frantically.
Something was different this time. Whoever was trying to help the girl break through was coming with more force, more ferocity. The binding was being attacked from all sides, and whoever was leading the assault was almost done.
Selith’s hands trembled as she searched the pages. What was on the girl was not just a binding. It was also a marker, a seal that bound the child to Victoria. It would help with the transference of the power from the girl to Victoria. And this was the first time a powerful spell like this was being broken through.
Victoria groaned again, her body trembling. “What’s happening?!”
The jar shook more violently, and a crack appeared on its surface—longer this time, deeper than before. The liquid inside sloshed against the glass.
Selith’s eyes scanned the pages frantically. She needed to find a way to stop this. She needed to reinforce the binding before it was too late.
Suddenly, the jar stopped shaking.
She would have relaxed if this were a normal situation, but she didn’t stop searching. Instead, she grabbed a remnant of one of the beasts of Nirvana—a Skylur fang, its surface pale—and began pounding it with a hammer. The sound echoed through the chamber, sharp and rhythmic, each strike sending a jolt of tension through the air.
She gathered more herbs and more corpse plant, her hands moving with desperate speed. Then she moved to Victoria, cutting even deeper into her arm. Victoria hissed in pain, but Selith ignored her, collecting the blood that welled up from the wound.
She ground everything together—the beast remains, the herbs, the corpse plant, and Victoria’s blood—into a thick, dark paste. But just as she approached the jar, it began shaking again, even more violently than before.
Selith worked the mixture frantically, stopping halfway to use the paste to draw a circle around the already-drawn symbols. The jar stopped shaking again, and she continued, her hands moving faster than they ever had before. She poured the remaining paste around the jar, coating the base and sealing it in place.
Minutes passed once she was done, and the chamber fell silent. Nothing could be heard except the ragged breathing of the two women.
Victoria straightened slowly, the ringing in her ears finally fading.
“What just happened?” she asked Selith.
“I…” Selith began, but then she was interrupted by a sharp crack, and she knew even before she turned that it was the jar.
It shattered, and the contents spilled across the chamber floor, staining the stone with dark, viscous liquid. The hair fell onto the floor, smoke rising from it, the smell acrid and foul.
The seal was undone, and there was nothing Victoria nor Selith could do this time.
—
Back at the shrine, Sophia opened her eyes slowly.
At first, everything was blurry. She couldn’t hear any sound.
She expected to see Orion, even Madam Tyler, but instead she saw Selene.
Sophia’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but then Selene’s voice echoed in her head.
“We will talk next time. Preferably before the war.”
Sophia blinked, and suddenly Selene was gone. The image faded.
She opened her eyes again, and this time, she saw Orion.
His eyes were filled with worry, his face pale beneath the strain of the ritual. He smiled when he saw her awake, relief flooding his features.
“Shorty,” he breathed.
Sophia smiled at him. She was about to speak when she saw blood trickling from his nose.
It was like everything was happening in slow motion—the red liquid sliding down his upper lip, dripping onto his chin, staining his tunic. His eyes widened, confusion flickering across his face. Then they rolled back, and he collapsed.
Sophia lunged forward, reaching for him.
But she was too late.
Orion hit the ground.