Chapter 144: Red red red 2

BONNIE

"None of that will happen," I insisted. I made my voice steady even though my heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest. "I have a feeling. I know it sounds stupid, but I have a feeling none of that will happen. Please trust me."

He stared at me. I saw the war in his face, the way his eyes kept darting between my eyes like he was reading text written there. He didn’t want to. I could see that clearly. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to lock me away, to hide me, to keep me safe from whatever was happening down that corridor.

But he couldn’t help it. I saw the moment he broke, the moment his hands softened on my shoulders from gripping to holding.

"Then all three of us go," he relented. His jaw set like granite. "Stay behind me. Both of you. If I tell you to run, you run. No arguments."

"Agreed," Fia answered immediately.

I nodded. "Agreed."

We ran.

The corridor blurred past as we followed the sentinel. Lysander set a brutal pace, his longer legs eating up the distance while Fia and I struggled to keep up. My bare feet slapped against stone, cold and hard, and I tried not to think about what we were running toward. The smell of blood grew stronger, copper-sweet and thick, coating the back of my throat.

We turned the corner into the main infirmary hall and skidded to a stop.

It looked like a war zone.

Supply carts lay overturned, their contents scattered across the tile like metallic shrapnel. Blood painted the walls in abstract, violent patterns. Three sentinels in wolf form paced near the far wall, fur bristling, and teeth bared. In the center of it all, lying crumpled on the floor like a discarded doll, was Willow.

She looked unconscious. Her chest rose and fell in shallow hitches.

High Beta Bradley stood near the body, his clothes soaked in blood that I could only hope wasn’t his, his face pale and drawn. He was talking to a woman I didn’t recognize. She was blonde and had her hair pulled back in a severe braid. She was also fairly tall, with shoulders that looked like they could carry the world. She turned as we entered, her eyes locking onto me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

Then Fia sucked in a breath beside me.

"Madeline," she whispered. Her voice carried weight, history, something complicated. "What is she doing here?"

I looked between them. The blonde woman—Madeline—nodded at Fia, a small, sharp gesture of acknowledgment.

"You know her?" I asked.

"We have history," Fia murmured. She didn’t elaborate.

Lysander stepped forward. "I invited her. She’s Valentine Blossom’s daughter. A healer."

"Oh," Fia replied. She didn’t sound surprised, exactly. Just resigned.

I was about to ask who Valentine Blossom was when the body on the floor moved.

Her eyes were closed at first, and then they suddenly snapped open. They weren’t human eyes anymore. They were red, glowing, and filled with something that looked like liquid fire. She moved like a puppet jerked by invisible strings, rising fully to her feet in one fluid, impossible motion. Her arms hung loose at her sides for a heartbeat.

Then she raised her hands, the palms facing outward.

The red built between her fingers. It swirled and condensed, like a storm of arterial light that pulsed like a heartbeat. I felt the pressure in my ears, and even the way the air suddenly tasted of ozone and burning hair.

She was going to kill everyone. I knew it with the certainty of the vision still echoing in my skull. This was the moment. This was why I had seen what I saw and done what I did.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I reached for the gift of small miracles, that pulsing thing beneath my sternum that I’d spent my whole life stifling down until today, and I threw it outward.

The translucent bubble formed around Willow instantly. It snapped into existence like a soap film stretched to impossible tension, catching the light and bending it into rainbows across its curved surface. It enclosed her completely, a dome of shimmering force that separated her from the rest of us.

The red energy burst from her palms.

It slammed against the inside of my bubble with a sound like thunder trapped in a jar. The impact rattled my teeth. I felt the recoil in my bones, the strain of holding it back, but I pushed harder. I poured everything I had into that barrier, my hands raised, fingers spread, my whole body trembling with the effort.

The red roiled and churned inside the sphere, seeking escape, but it couldn’t break through.

Well... It was that way at first; then it started to melt through.

"Fia!" I screamed.

She was already moving. I saw her hands come up, saw the same energy bloom from her palms, complementing my bubble. She threw her power into the barrier, reinforcing it, and layering her strength over mine like armor over skin.

Only then did the bubble fully hold.

Willow screamed inside it, a sound of pure fury that was muffled by the barrier but still audible. She hammered against the inside with fists wreathed in red flame, but the combined force of Fia’s gifts and mine held firm.

Then, slowly, the red began to fade. It dissipated like smoke in the wind, thinning until it was gone, leaving only Willow standing there, panting, her eyes still glowing but dimmer now.

I didn’t lower my hands. My arms shook. My vision swam at the edges.

"How," Fia breathed beside me. She kept her hands raised, maintaining her share of the barrier. Her voice cracked with shock. "How does a witch have access to a gift like that? That’s not possible. That’s—"

I didn’t let her finish.

I reached deeper. I found that place inside me where the rage lived. I used it by channeling into it. I wrapped the gift of small miracles around Willow’s body, and I lifted her.

She rose into the air, suspended by my will, her legs kicking uselessly for purchase that didn’t exist. I held her there, six feet off the ground, and I walked toward her. Each step sent pain lancing through my skull, but I kept going until I stood directly beneath her, looking up into her furious, glowing face.

"You almost killed people," I snarled. My voice tore out of me, raw and ragged. "You almost killed everyone in this room, you fucking monster!"

She struggled against my hold, but I tightened it. I felt the pressure building behind my eyes, the familiar headache that came with using too much power, but I didn’t care. I held her there, suspended and helpless, while my heart hammered against my ribs and the blood roared in my ears.

"Bonnie." Lysander’s voice came from behind me, careful and soft. "Bonnie, that’s enough."

I ignored him. I kept my eyes locked on Willow’s, searching for something human in those red depths, finding nothing but hatred and madness.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why are you doing this? What did they ever do to you?"