I don’t think. Don’t need to, don't need magic for this.
Smiling—barbed and mean, I drive my boot up, hard and fast, straight into his groin.
Ryven lets out a strangled noise, more gasp than scream, as he stumbles back and folds like wet parchment. Hands clutching himself, he hits his knees with a choked grunt, face twisting in agony.
“That’s cheating!” he wheezes, voice cracking. “This is Offensive Magic, not... physical combat!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Talen, leaning back, delight written all over his face. He lifts both hands in a slow shrug, all innocent, like he’s saying,Not my problem.
Ryven tries to straighten, tries to argue. But I’m done listening.
It might be Talen taunting me, whispering me poison. But I don’t care. It’s Ryven who just tried to kill me, who iscurrentlytrying to kill me. And I’m not giving him another chance.
Teeth clenched, I shove myself upright.
I’m shaking, maybe from rage, maybe from the hit, maybe because breathing still feels like dragging air through fire.
Everything aches, my vision tilts. Doesn’t matter. I stay on my feet as I stalk toward him, each step heavy with the weight of everything I’ve held back.
And then—I feel them. My Threads. Not just in reach again butroaring. Feral, furious, like something half-starved locked behind bone, waiting for a crack to sink their teeth into.
I could stop now, try and regain some sense of control, risk humiliation, death?
Or I could keep going, unleash all of it, and become exactly the kind of monster they expect me to be?
Take him down, maybe myself?
But my magic’s already decided for me. I don’t care that I’m pure emotion, I don’t care that I’m past control. Every injustice I’ve swallowed. Every fight I’ve buried. It’s here. It’s mine.
Tension locks hard through me, a grinding pressure that rising with every heart beat. I shove my hand out, fingers spread, every muscle pulled taut like a drawn bow?—
Andfinally, finally my Threads answer.
CHAPTER TEN
Power lashes out of me like a summer storm finally breaking across the sky—humid, raw,chaotic.
There’s no more fear.
No more freezing.
No more second-guessing.
I’m done being cornered; this only ends one way, with him down.
Everything seizes at once, tension locking me still as my Threads rip free—air and water intertwining, dragging moisture from the walls, the floor, even my own skin. The mix snaps through the space, fracturing the light into twisting streaks of colour.
It hurts. A sharp, frantic jolt ripping through me, leaving my whole body trembling and my breath fraying.
But I don’t care, as long as they keep coming.
Ryven staggers back, hand dropping from his groin as he raises his arm?—
Too late.
I won’t diehere. Not tohim. Not likethis.
I yank my arms down. Fast. Fists clenched and the storm buckles, snapping inward, collapsing into a single sphere of liquid that I can barely hold.
