The eastern tower was a nightmare of narrow corridors and magical tripwires that screamed at us from every shadow. But none of that mattered because Aurora's heartbeat through our blood bond was getting weaker, more irregular, and I could feel her tiny body starting to shut down from dehydration and exhaustion.

"Faster," I hissed, pressing against the stone wall as footsteps thundered past on the level below us. "She's fading, Maverick. I can feel her slipping away."

"I know." His voice was tight with controlled panic. "But if we trigger one of these ward stones—"

"Then we die and she dies anyway." I pushed past him, no longer caring about stealth or strategy. "At least this way we die trying."

The stairwell opened onto the third floor, and immediately I knew we were close. The air itself hummed with Aurora's distress, her infant magic calling out in wavelengths only I could hear. It was like following a trail of broken glass through my nervous system.

"That way." I pointed down a corridor lined with doors that looked like they belonged in a prison rather than any normal building. "She's behind one of those doors."

We moved quickly now, checking each room with brutal efficiency. Empty. Empty. Empty. Each vacant cell sent a spike of terror through me—what if we were too late? What if they'd moved her?

Then I heard it.

A weak, exhausted cry that went straight through my heart like a blade.

"There!" I slammed into the door at the end of the corridor, not caring that it was probably locked, warded, or trapped. The wood splintered under the force of my desperation, magical barriers shrieking as they shattered.

Aurora lay in the center of an otherwise empty room, placed inside a circle of black stones that pulsed with sickly green light. She was still in the pajamas I'd dressed her in for bed—the ones with tiny wolves on them that Maverick had thought were so cute—but now they hung loose on her small body. She'd lost weight. Too much weight for a baby who didn't have any to spare.

"Aurora!" I rushed toward her, only to slam face-first into an invisible barrier that surrounded the stone circle.

"Containment field," Maverick said grimly, running his hands along the edges of the magical prison. "It's designed to suppress her power while keeping her alive just long enough..."

"Just long enough for what?"

"For the ritual." The voice came from behind us, smooth and pleased with itself. "Though I have to say, you made better time than expected."

I spun around to find Chizzy standing in the doorway, flanked by six Council guards in full battle gear. She looked exactly as I remembered—beautiful, poised, and completely without conscience.

"Hello, Maggie," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I was hoping you'd make it in time to watch."

"Watch what?" But even as I asked, I could see them wheeling in equipment—crystalline devices that hummed with the kind of power that made my teeth ache.

"The extraction, of course. Your little abomination has been very uncooperative, refusing to eat or sleep properly. But that's alright. The ritual works better when the subject is weakened anyway."

Aurora's cry came again, weaker this time, and through our bond I felt her recognition. She knew I was there. She was trying to reach for me with arms that barely had the strength to move.

"Let her go," I said, my voice deadly quiet. "Take me instead. Take my power, my life, whatever you want. Just let her go."

"Oh, sweet Maggie. Always so willing to sacrifice yourself for others." Chizzy gestured to her guards, who began setting up the crystalline devices around Aurora's prison. "But you don't understand. We don't want your power. We want hers. All that potential, all that raw ability, transferred to people who will use it properly."

"She's a baby!"

"She's an anomaly that threatens the natural order. But her power... that can be repurposed."

One of the devices came online with a sound like breaking glass, and Aurora screamed. Not a cry this time—a real scream of pain that cut through me like a physical wound.

"Stop it!" I threw myself against the containment field again, magical energy crackling as it held. "She's innocent!"

"She's dangerous. But her potential doesn't have to be wasted."

The second device activated, and this time I felt Aurora's agony through our blood bond like molten metal in my veins. She was being burned from the inside out as the machines began to siphon her power.

That's when something inside me broke.

Not broke—shattered. Completely and irreversibly.

Power erupted from me with the force of a dying star, silver-white energy that didn't just push against the containment field but rewrote the fundamental laws that allowed it to exist. The barrier didn't break—it simply ceased to have ever been.

"Impossible," Chizzy breathed, stumbling backward as the wave of energy washed over her. "The containment field is absolute—"

"Nothing is absolute when you threaten my child."

I stepped into the circle of stones, and they cracked under my feet. The extraction devices sparked and died as my power overwhelmed their delicate mechanisms. But Aurora...

Aurora was barely breathing. Her golden eyes were closed, her tiny chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps. The machines had already taken so much from her that she was fading even as I held her.

"She's dying," I whispered, cradling her against my chest. "Oh god, she's dying."

"The extraction was ninety percent complete," Chizzy said with satisfaction. "Even if you kill us all, she won't survive the power loss."

Through our blood bond, I could feel Aurora's life force ebbing like water through cupped hands. She was too small, too fragile to survive what they'd done to her.

But she was also my daughter. My impossible, wonderful, powerful daughter.

And I was not going to let her die.

"Maverick," I said without looking away from Aurora's pale face. "Kill them. Kill them all."

"Maggie—"

"Kill them," I repeated, my voice carrying harmonics that made the stone walls tremble. "Kill every single person in this building who knew about this and did nothing to stop it."

I felt his hesitation through our mate bond—not reluctance to protect our daughter, but concern for what this level of violence would do to my soul.

"She's innocent," I said, pressing my lips to Aurora's forehead. "And they tortured her for being powerful. They need to die for that."

Maverick's acceptance came through our bond like a cold wind. When he moved, it wasn't with human speed or human limitations. The Red Blood Moon heritage he'd kept buried for so long erupted to the surface in all its ancient, terrible glory.

The first guard died before he could draw his weapon. The second managed half a scream before Maverick's claws opened his throat. The others tried to run.

None of them made it to the door.

Chizzy pressed herself against the far wall, her face white with terror as Maverick turned toward her. "Wait," she gasped. "Wait, I can reverse it. The extraction—I can put her power back."

"Can you?" I asked, still cradling Aurora's failing form.

"Y-yes. The crystals store the extracted energy for forty-eight hours before it dissipates. I can reverse the flow, return what was taken."

I looked down at my daughter, at the way her breathing was getting more labored with each passing second. Through our bond, I could feel her slipping away from me like smoke.

"Do it," I said.

"But first—"

"Do it now, or I'll let him finish what he started." I nodded toward Maverick, who was covered in blood that wasn't his own and looked like something out of humanity's darkest nightmares.

Chizzy scrambled toward the damaged equipment with shaking hands. "I need to recalibrate the resonance frequencies, establish a reverse harmonic—"

"You have sixty seconds," I said, feeling Aurora's heartbeat becoming even more irregular. "After that, nothing you do will matter because you'll be dead and she'll be beyond help."

"I'm trying!"

The machines came back online, but this time instead of the harsh, predatory hum of extraction, they sang with something that sounded almost like a lullaby. Power flowed back into Aurora's tiny body, golden light gathering around her like protective warmth.

Her eyes opened.

Those impossible golden eyes found mine, and for the first time in hours, she smiled.

"Mama," she said.

Not baby babble. Not random sounds.

An actual word, spoken with perfect clarity by a two-month-old child who had just survived magical torture.

"Yes, baby," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Mama's here. Mama's got you."

Aurora's smile widened, and suddenly the entire fortress began to shake. Not from my power this time, but from hers. Returned and amplified by her ordeal, focused by her infant rage at the people who had hurt her.

"What's happening?" Chizzy screamed as cracks appeared in the stone walls.

I looked at my daughter, at the way golden light was beginning to pour from her skin like liquid sunshine.

"She's angry," I said simply. "And she's old enough now to do something about it."

The fortress began to collapse around us, three centuries of oppression and control crumbling as Aurora's power washed over it like a cleansing fire.

But we were safe. Surrounded by her light, protected by her love, held in the arms of her absolute certainty that nothing bad could happen to us now that we were together again.

My baby girl had come home.

And she was done being anyone's victim.