“No!” The scream tears from my throat, my brain splitting apart. “This already happened! I already watched him die!”
But I don’t have time to panic. So, I reach for the heat inside me, and the world dissolves into orange flames, reforming at the Crown in a heartbeat as I fire travel for the second time in my life.
Oliver’s already on the ground, his eyes vacant, blood pooling beneath him. It’s the same as what happened before. Like some sick replay.
Then Thaddeus is turning, another dagger in his hand, and the weapon is flying through the air, straight at me.
I try to dodge, but he’s too fast, too precise.
The dagger sinks deep into my chest, just below my heart. Different spot, same agonizing cold spreading through my veins.
My legs buckle immediately.
Death is faster this time. My heart struggles and fails, each beat weaker than the last. The volcanic rock rushes up to meet me, and Logan’s arms are wrapped around me again, holding me tight.
“Damn it, not again,” he growls against my hair.
Fire erupts around us—those black shadow flames that make my dying brain scream that this is wrong, this isn’t natural, this isn’t how fire is supposed to work. A roar like a freight train tears through the space, and then the world disappears, sucked into a vortex that pulls at the fabric of reality itself.
Then everything goes startlingly silent, and I’m standing at the base of the Scorched Circles. Again. Whole and unharmed, watching that same column of fire bloom at the Crown, revealing those same two figures against the night sky. Again.
Oliver and Thad, right on schedule. Like clockwork. Like a nightmare I can’t escape.
“Oh gods.” My voice cracks, and I gaze up at Logan, begging for answers. “I died. Twice.” Tears stream down my face as the impossible reality crashes over me. “Your fire—at least I think it was your fire—was black. What the hell was that? What was wrong with your fire?”
“Jade—” Logan reaches for me, but I’m already refocused on the Crown, horror pooling at my stomach with the knowledge of what’s coming next.
“I can save him this time. I have to.” Silver electricity crackles across my skin, dancing between my fingers and through my hair, making the air around me taste like copper and ozone.
The look in Logan’s eyes—exhaustion mixed with desperation—almost makes me pause. But Oliver’s up there, about to die for the third time. And maybe I’m in Hell, but I’ll be damned if I stand here and watch it happen.
The world dissolves into flames, and I’m at the Crown in a heartbeat.
Fire travel is getting easier. Or maybe I’m just getting used to dying.
Thaddeus has his dagger raised, about to strike, and electricity erupts from my hands in twin bolts of rage. The power rips through me, making every nerve ending sing as the bolts streak across the space between us, bright as daylight, crackling with enough voltage to turn him to ash.
But Thaddeus spins with inhuman grace, wind rushing around him as he creates a fire shield that swallows my attack whole.
My electricity dissipates against his barrier like it’s nothing.
“Tempest chose well.” He tilts his head, studying me like he’s seeing me for the first time.
Before I can launch another attack, he gestures almost lazily, and wind rushes at me. It pushes my chest like invisible hands, and then I’m flying backward, launched off the Crown with casual indifference. The edge disappears beneath my feet, and there’s nothing but empty air and the certainty of death rushing up to meet me.
The wind tears at my dress as I fall. The ground is so far below—too far.
This is it. This is how I die this time. Not by a blade, but by gravity itself.
Will it hurt less? Will it be quick? Or even better, will I not feel it at all?
After being stabbed twice, I sure as hell hope so.
“Jade!” Logan’s voice cuts through the roaring wind, and his hand catches my wrist, pulling me against him as that terrifying black fire engulfs us again. The darkness makes my skin crawl even as it saves me, reality shimmering and bending, sucking us into that screaming vortex where we exist but don’t at the same time.
Then my feet hit solid ground. Gently. Silently. Like stepping off a curb instead of falling from a mountain.
I don’t have to look around to know what I’m going to see next.
