She can’t be gone.
There’s another crack.
No one has ever been able to contain my true devil like she had. My mother had been able to do it the fastest. Then Thorne was able to push it back and keep me sane. Buther. . . she didn’t even do anything. She only said my name and that thing wanted to submit. Itwantedher.
Then she had snapped at me as if she had already known it wouldn’t hurt her.
It wants her now. It won’t accept that she’s gone. It won’t accept that she could be. . .
Another crack.
Callahan.
But it doesn’t sound like her. My memory cannot capture her exact voice, her exact tone, her exact pitch. It’s a second rate copycat and thatthingdoes not accept it.
It needs her.
I need her.
I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. Ineed her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her. I need her.
I need. . .
I. . .
Mavyn. It whispers. It has never spoken before.Mavyn.
Nineteen
Varian – Septmust 1
The Mage Board has thoroughly instilled that any devil or angel who allows their true inner self – their true form – to consume them they are to immediately be put to death. The magnitude of power that thing inside of ourselves has been said to rival gods.
Morals don’t exist for them. Thoughts, feelings – they don’t have them. No one knows what purpose they serve, only that they are a type of damnation and shall bring the end of worlds.
And yet. . . when Callahan broke through nearly every shield of my mind and screamed two words into it that nearly fractured my consciousness, I knew one thing. Those things in us. . . they have thoughts. Because it was not Callahan who said those words to me.
It was his true devil.
The thing that is now slowly consuming himself. The black ring around his iris covering all gold and white. His iris and pupil indistinguishable from each other.
With Thorne behind him, his hands firmly griping Callahan’s shoulders, I say his name again.
“Callahan.” A demand. Thorne was always better with trying to get him back than I was but nothing Thorne said got through. “Let Callahan back.”
His body seems like it’s made of stone with how rigid and hard he is. His face not even twitching, and his breathing doesn’t even move his chest. Black eyes darker than the nothingness between stars continue watching ashes drift.
My brain can’t focus on that though, because if Callahan fully unleashes his devil we’re all fucked. And most importantly, he’s dead.
“Callahan,” I try again. If this doesn’t work I’m going to have to call his mother. Without fail she has always been able to bring him back.
“She’s gone.” His mouth moves and it’s Callahan’s voice but not. It should not be possible for it to speak. “Mine, and she’s gone.”
I don’t dare let my eyes stray from his, even as he continues watching the ash. I don’t know how it’s possible, what happened or why Mavyn is gone and there are only ashes left, but his true devil is somehow fixated on her.
“We need Callahan back,” I say quietly. Cautiously. It still doesn’t look at me.
“She is mine,” it says again. “She cannot be gone.”