The Broken Hex

A shockwave of pure, kinetic darkness exploded at the mouth of the alley.

The two thugs holding Lily were violently ripped away, thrown through the air to crash sickeningly against the brick walls, their bodies crushed by an unseen, terrifying gravity.

Dorian Vance stepped into the alley.

He did not look like the polished mogul of the Obsidian Spire. He looked like the ancient, deadly Lord of the Aether. His silver eyes were burning with blinding, white-hot fury. Shadows whipped around his body like physical tendrils of dark magic.

"Get away from her," Dorian’s voice echoed, distorted and demonic, shaking the very foundations of the buildings.

Seraphina snarled, signaling her remaining thugs.

Dorian moved faster than the human eye could track. He tore through the mercenaries with brutal, ancient power, using the shadows as blades. But Seraphina was a master of the dark arts. As Dorian struck down the last thug, Seraphina lunged from the blind spot.

She drove the toxic green dagger deep into the side of Dorian’s abdomen.

Dorian roared in agony, grabbing Seraphina by the throat and hurling her fifty feet down the alley. The Siren hit the ground unconscious, but the damage was done.

Dorian collapsed to his knees, clutching his side. The green poison from the blade was spreading rapidly through his veins, his immortal healing factor fighting a losing battle against the specialized toxin.

Lily dropped to the ground beside him, her hands hovering frantically over his bleeding wound. She opened her mouth to scream his name, to ask for help, but the iron band of the silencing hex held tight. She was mute. She was useless. The good girl paralyzed by fear.

Dorian looked up at her, his breathing ragged, blood staining his white shirt. He saw her desperately trying to speak, clawing at her own throat. He recognized the dark magic binding her.

"Lily," Dorian gasped, his hand reaching out to weakly grip her trembling fingers. "I can't... I can't break it. A Siren's silence must be shattered from the inside."

Lily shook her head frantically, tears pouring down her face. She couldn't. She didn't know how. The magic was too strong.

"Stop playing it safe, little bird," Dorian whispered, his silver eyes fading as the poison took hold. He was dying. The immortal Lord was bleeding out in a dirty alley because he had come for her. "I didn't groom you. I fell in love with you. Use your anger. Use your pain. Be messy, Lily. Scream for me."

Dorian’s eyes closed, his hand going slack in hers.

* No.*

Lily stared at the man she loved. The man who had seen the caged bird and kicked the door open. The man who was dying because she had been too foolish to trust him.

A spark ignited in the center of her chest. It wasn't polite. It wasn't mathematically perfect. It was raw, violent, unadulterated rage and profound, desperate love.

Lily closed her eyes. She stopped trying to use her vocal cords. She reached deep into her soul, bypassing the physical restrictions, tapping directly into the wild, untamed reservoir of magic Dorian had helped her discover.

She pushed against the iron band of the hex. It resisted, suffocating her.

Lily pushed harder. She poured every ounce of her fear, her heartbreak, and her passion into the magic. She thought of the restrictive piano benches. She thought of the lonely nights. She thought of Dorian’s hands on hers.

* BREAK!* her soul commanded.

Lily opened her mouth.

A single, chaotic, earth-shattering note ripped from her throat.

It wasn't a human sound. It was a shockwave of pure, blinding magical frequency. The iron band of the hex shattered into a million invisible pieces. The note exploded outward in a dome of brilliant, iridescent light, shattering every neon sign in the alley, vaporizing the remaining dark magic Seraphina had left behind.

The shockwave washed over Dorian’s unconscious body. The pure, healing resonance of her untamed magic met the toxic poison in his veins and completely eradicated it.

Lily collapsed onto the wet pavement, her throat raw, panting heavily.

A moment later, Dorian gasped, his eyes flying open. The wound on his side rapidly knitted itself together, the poison purged.

He sat up, looking at the shattered alleyway, and then at the girl kneeling beside him. Her modest blouse was torn, her hair was a wild mess, and she was breathing heavily, radiating a power that rivaled the oldest gods of the Aether.