The building doesn’t just respond to my Ether—it amplifies it. Stone that has stood for centuries suddenly remembers what it wasbuilt to do. To protect. To serve. To answer the call of Scarborne blood.
The walls pulse with silver light. The roof tiles rearrange themselves, forming patterns that hurt to look at directly. Even the trees in the garden lean inward, their branches reaching toward me like they’re trying to shelter me from what’s coming.
Seth screams.
Just once, sharp and sudden. Then there’s nothing.
The weight on my arms vanishes. A sound like thunder echoes from where he was standing, but when I look, there’s only empty space and a scorch mark burned into the stone.
I don’t understand. Can’t process what just happened through the chaos of power still tearing through me.
All I know is that suddenly I’m alone.
Phil throws up a shield, green light crackling around him as my power slams into it. But he’s not fast enough, not strong enough. The Ether burns through his defenses like they’re made of paper, sending him staggering backward with blood streaming from his nose.
“Impossible,” he gasps, one hand pressed to his chest where the power scorched through. “You’re untrained. You don’t have the control for this kind of—”
The force builds again, tearing through what’s left of his shield. The barrier buckles under the assault, cracks spreading across its surface like breaking ice. With a sound like thunder, it shatters completely.
The blast sends Phil flying. He hits the ground hard enough to crater the stone beneath him, his perfect suit reduced to smoking tatters. When he finally stops rolling, he’s coughing up blood that steams where it touches the superheated ground.
For the first time since he arrived, Phil looks genuinely afraid.
But even wounded, even bleeding, his eyes still glitter with something like hunger. Like anticipation.
“Magnificent,” he breathes, pushing himself up on his elbows. Blood runs from the corner of his mouth, but he’s smiling. “All that fury, and not a drop of control. Do you see what you are now, Bree?”
He spits blood onto the cracked stone, his predatory grin widening despite the pain.
“You’re not their queen. You’re their executioner.”
No.
I try to stand, to deny them, but my legs won’t hold me. Everything hurts—my head, my chest, my hands. The taste of copper fills my mouth, and I can’t tell if it’s from the magic or from biting my tongue.
Around us, the destruction spreads. Cracks web through the courtyard. Windows lie in glittering fragments. The air still hums with residual power, making my skin crawl and my hair stand on end.
And in the center of it all, I kneel alone.
“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” Phil asks, and there’s something almost gentle in his voice. Almost pitying. “Poor little Bree. So much power, so little understanding.”
He gets to his feet with visible effort, straightening his ruined jacket like he’s at a dinner party instead of the center of a magical catastrophe.
“But don’t worry. Daddy will teach you. He’s very good at teaching control.”
Then he’s gone, vanishing into shadow like he was never there at all.
The silence that follows feels like death.
I kneel in the center of destruction, surrounded by cracked stone and twisted metal and the charred remains of what used to be beautiful sanctuary grounds. The air tastes of ozone and burned magic, sharp and acrid in my throat.
The crowd is pressed against the far walls now, as distant from me as they can manage while still being in the same space. They’re staring at me with expressions I’ve never seen before—not just fear, but revulsion. Horror. Like I’m something unnatural that’s crawled up from the depths of hell.
And maybe I am.
Footsteps approach, but they’re careful. Hesitant. Like the people making them aren’t sure they want to get any closer.
The guys emerge from the crowd slowly, and I can see the exact moment they take in the full scope of what I’ve done. Gray’s clothes are torn from his earlier transformation, dried blood still streaking his skin where the shift had torn through. His eyes are wild when they meet mine, but there’s something else there too. Something that might be fear.
