I take a step into her personal space, shoving my pain into its mental box and letting the rage surface. My power rises, but I grip it with the full force of my mental strength.
It’s not much.
I tilt my head left. “Are you suicidal?”
Her mouth falls open, and I don’t bother containing a smirk. “Knowing my… history, you must be, otherwise I don’t see why you would be that stupid and try to push me?”
I see it. The flicker of fear in her eyes, before she hides it under her usual poker face.
“I will gladly die to expose you to my court as the unstable, murderous bitch you are.”
Sure you will.
“You are not worth a dot of my magic.” Also, Jestin won’t forgive me for it.
“But your sister was?” I feel my power rush to annihilate her, but I take a step back and contain it. Barely. Probably. It leaks. I…
“Seleste!” Samira screams out of the blue, then shakes me, pulling me from the frenzy. My fingers hum with my storm, begging to be unleashed, set free.
I want to rage. I want to.
The storm is satisfied by Zulu’s dilated pupils, by the skin that loses all its colour. Her breath comes in short, ragged bursts, and her hands tremble.
“Have you finally realised that messing with me was a bad idea?” I hear gasps from the crowd around me, and deep down I know I should have stopped earlier, but I have no energy to contain the storm when she is fucking begging me to end her.
What is one more Fae?
“Zulu, leave now or you will be banned from entering!” Samira snaps.
“You can’t do this!” Zulu protests. “You’re only an aide to Jestin.”
“I speak for him. Leave. NOW!”
My nostrils flare as I watch Zulu turn on her heel, her hips swaying angrily, and I fight the urge to make sure she isn’t able to take another step in her life - or better - I imagine her tongue as a chilling necklace dangling from my neck. The entity within me caresses my will.
A tempting monster.
“Seleste, she is not worth it.” The plea in Samira’s voice makes me second-guess myself for a heartbeat, and I focus on her, searching for any signs of fear, but I find none.
Surprising.
“But she is fucking right,” I snap; the pain leaks into my voice.
In response, Samira lowers her gaze, and it says more than her words could ever do.
She feels the same way.
I turn on my heel, determined to leave that fucking desert for good, but I bump into a hard chest…
Aidon.
“You look like a cheap whore, but elegant. I am intrigued.” A hint of a smile on his lips.
What?!
I must be gawking because he adds. “You’ve heard me. I love your outfit.”
Suddenly, the world isn’t dark anymore. “Maybe I can buy a moment of your time, little minx?”
