Deyanira (3)

{SSTP - Suggested song to play: Savage Daughter by Ekaterina Shelehova }

My heartbeat thumped loudly, growing more intense as we stared at each other. My body is tense, assessing the witch no longer wounded. Deyanira was relaxed and nonchalant as her eyes gleamed back at me. Her lips curled in a satisfied smirk. I could feel the raw energy swirling around her fingertips, dark tendrils of magick coiling and slithering like living shadows emerging from faintly shimmering runes etched upon her hands.

From what little I knew about witches and Cohnal's brief explanation, they needed to chant out their spells to cast their magick. Yet, I'd seen Deyanira able to flick her finger and send my mate and me flying. Perhaps that was something simple compared to trying to heal a fatal wound.

She'd chanted to heal the wound, and although it took as little as ten seconds, I could use that to my advantage. It wasn't much, but if I kept attacking-