Something born of pain and shadow. Of healing and destruction. Of fire and bloom.
Anethesis stumbles back, teeth bared in a grimace.
“Amara!” he roars, and for the first time, his voice breaks with an unfamiliar rage. “Enough!”
He flings his hands forward, and the air erupts with force. A violent gust slams into me, throwing me against the side of the cage, the bars biting into my spine. My flames gutter, but they do not die.
I snarl, pushing against the wind, muscles trembling with effort as I stalk forward. The flames rise with me, green and black twisting in frenzied spirals around my arms, devouring the air between us.
Panic sparks in Anethesis’s eyes. He grits his teeth and thrusts both hands out, wind lashing harder, his body trembling from the exertion.
“Princess!” he cries. “Please! Don’t do this! I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Lies!” I scream, voice booming like thunder. “That’s all you Fae ever do. All you know how to do!”
Step by step, I force myself closer. The gusts howl, ripping at my hair, my clothes, but I don’t stop. I won’t stop. My hand rises, wrapped in fire and smoke, the red ribbon at my wrist snapping in the wind like a battle flag.
My open palm nears his face.
Anethesis flinches, turning his head with a cry as the flames lick across his cheek.
“Stop!” he bellows. “I beg of you!”
I smile, slow and merciless, and lower my hand.
“Good,” I murmur, voice cold as ice, hard as stone. “That’s a start. Now, release Ashen.”
He shudders, backing away, his breath coming shallow.
“But... how do I know you won’t kill me?”
“You don’t,” I snap. “Now. Do it.”
He skirts around me, keeping to the edges. His back scrapes the bars as he nears Ashen, still no larger than a hunting cat, crouched low, his ivory eyes ever watchful.
Anethesis’s hands shake as he reaches for the collar. I can smell his fear now, thick and metallic on his skin, and it stirs something within me I’m not ready to embrace.
The clasp clicks and the collar falls.
Ashen unleashes a roar that shakes the cavern to its bones. The stone groans. The cage sways. Far below, the lake ripples.
Smoke pours from Ashen’s body, swallowing him whole. Tentacles explode from his back with a wet, snarling sound, thrashing like serpents. His limbs stretch, his torsobulging with muscle and mist, until he towers, massive and monstrous, his true form no longer constrained.
The cage groans under his bulk, metal creaking in protest.
Anethesis presses himself against the bars, clutching them like a lifeline, his eyes screwed shut, desperate, praying. Pretending this is a dream.
But it isn’t.
This is real.
This is the nightmare he made with his own hands.
I step forward and place my hands on Ashen’s neck, burying my face against the thick, solid heat of him as he growls low in his throat
“Welcome back,” I murmur.
“Now is a time for calm, Princess,” Anethesis says, only turning half his face toward me, his hands still clinging to the bars. “I was promised mercy!”
