His dagger broke the skin.
A scream broke from her throat.
She wouldn't get to him in time.
The doors flung open.
Her heart stopped.
Then something happened.
She was in the air again, feeling like she was floating through space. Her soul left her body. Her feet left the ground.
A purple haze surrounded her. A sky full of diamonds and dolphins, death, life and music.
Most of all, darkness.
Something so sinfully dark she felt it tearing, punching, at her core. Dying to be let inside. To corrupt her organs. To steal something precious and never give it back.
A green and blue fog clouded her vision, like stars but so much darker. Infinitely darker.
She hit the ground seconds before Killian did.
Frantically, she glanced his way.
The dagger laid on the other side of the room.
Whatever this was, it'd stopped him.
That skin he'd pierced would be mending itself already, fixing his attempt to end this.
She blinked away the sleepiness. The blurriness of hitting her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she forced herself to focus on those open doors. She kept Killian in her sight.
I'll kill him myself before he gets near that dagger again.
A figure stood in the doorway. She couldn't place a face. Couldn't see clearly enough to recognise those features. Yet through the blurriness of it all, she knew that irksome cadence of his voice.
"Well I'll be damned," Seth said with a low wolf whistle. "This shit actually works."
Sight and sense returned to her. She could just about see the object in his hands. It was a blaster of sorts.
Maybe she didn't know what it was, but she knew exactly what lingered at the core of it.
Dark magic.
Seth had gotten his hands dirty with dark magic.
Or maybe not his hands.
Seth couldn't invent something of that nature. He was a tracker. And whatever that thing was certainly didn't track.
What's going on?
She knew, as he took one step into the room, that whatever barrier had been keeping them in here before was gone now. Whatever that thing was had effectively destroyed it. Dark magic of all things would get them out of this.
"What have—"
The words died in her throat.
She couldn't breathe.
She needed to sit up and let her healing kick in.
This scene would explain itself later.
"What's this bad boy?" The tracker asked, catching on all the same. "This is my new one-of-a-kind barrier blaster. I call it the shlong-a-tron 3000. I mean would you look at the girth on this thing. I can barely hold it. Wait till you hear how I got it."
"Wha—"
"You wouldn't believe the bull crap day I'm having," Seth pressed, lobbing the weapon aside. Too carelessly. Dark magic was unpredictable. What if that thing malfunctioned? "Work this, work that. Can't a man just take a five-minute break, y'know?" As Reagan struggled to sit up, Seth looked from her to the other side of the room. To Killian. "Don't worry about the guards. I knocked their furry balls out with silver, specially heated to a permanent 3924 degrees."
She had herself half upright now, but the arms that held her were shaky, still reeling from the feel of that magic.
The tracker gave her a look of feigned sympathy. "Fuck, blondie. You're in a bad state, huh. Well if you need someone to take care of you, I can do a much better job than him. Not only am I easier on the eyes, but my dick's—"
Breaking the barrier must've broken all barriers. Killian was able to teleport, appearing beside her. With deft hands, he tugged her into his lap and brushed her hair away from her sweaty face. "I've got you." She relaxed into his front as he pressed his wrist to her mouth. "Come on, drink for me."
They both knew she needed to.
Not only did her witch side heal significantly slower, but her magic hadn't taken nicely to the dark magic thrown at it. The blood trickling down her throat was a necessity. Her saving grace.
"What's your game?" He snapped at Seth as she continued to drink, regaining life with every passing second.
"No game," The tracker answered, which was never true of Seth. "I don't ask questions when the future tells me what to do. All I know is that the two of you- shockingly enough- have some big old job to do that'll impact the outcome of the entire future." He rolled his eyes and batted a hand at the air as if this whole thing was no big deal. "Ask Evette, she gets dramatic." Of course this had something to do with Evie Wicker. She didn't know if it was too soon, but Reagan felt some sort of hope blossoming in her chest. "I'll give you a minute to sort this out. But if I hear any moaning, don't think for one minute I won't watch."
The second he was out of sight, she turned in Killian's embrace, flinging her arms around his body.
Sure, she didn't understand much of what had just happened—but she figured this final phase of the tournament had been scratched. Evie Wicker needed them both alive.
For now, that was enough for Reagan.
"I think I love you," She whispered, burying her head in his neck.
He kissed the top of her head. "I think I love you more."
Her heart felt funny. Like something had finally snapped into place. A hole there had been bricked over, fixed and repaired. Her body flooded with warmth, a smile stretching over her face.
She'd never been loved before.
Not like this.
"I think I've waited a really long time to hear you say that."
His eyes were on hers, strong and sharp. "I think you knew all along."
I think so too.
"I'm glad you're not dead."
He squeezed her as if reminding himself she was alright. That his blood was working its magic on her, fixing her right back up. "You're not getting rid of me Sinclair."
I don't want to.
"What now? We need a plan."
"We'll finish this together," He said earnestly. "The same team."
"Is that going to work?"
His lips fell to her ear. "I've never factored having someone I'd die for into the equation." She felt the wispiness of his breath passing through her. "But two monarchs make a throne."
"You'd—you'd want to rule with me?"
Her stomach did a backflip.
He'd share his power with her. No power plays. No superiority. She'd get what he wanted and so would he. They'd both walk out of this room as winners.
