Something brittle shattered.
And through the cracks, the empath howled. Strangled by a thing that matched, a better monster whose teeth and claws were sunk deep inside as it feasted on priestess magic.
Magic that had to pass through me,first.
It was right there. Already warm and tingling on my palate, far from pure, tainted by the elites who’d enslaved them, but it was power all the same.
A cinder.
It reached down through the dusting of frost, down through the guilt and the horror and the secrets, all the way through the grime and self-loathing that had coated me since the day Sasha had died…
… only to crash against Asher’s wall.
I recoiled from the pain, curling in, to defend against a thing that had no physical form and needed no permission to slip through my pitiful defenses.
Something sparked.
Something I thought had already gone stiff and cold and bloated with rot.
I gasped. Staring up at what little remained of the miasma swirling in the air. The tendrils of pure priestess energy reaching out, on pain of punishment.
And I knew.
It wasn’t enough.
Theyweren’t enough.
Even unified in sisterhood, they couldn’t muster the raw power needed to concentrate their magic.
Because Sasha was dead.
And it was my fault.
My skin tingled. Itching and too tight as I watched those ghostly tendrils reach, even as they were drawn in, to me, pulled away from their goal.
“Mila,don’t,” Asher hissed, and I felt him begin to drag me under. Drugging me placid as he looped bands of burning gold about my throat.
It was too late.
Hewas too late.
They needed a conduit.
And I would give.
Neck rolling, I let it wash over me. Palms fisted in my lap.
Asher cursed.
My right hand darted out, seizing Carly’s wrist in a grip that was sure to bruise. And through that contact, I didn’t merely welcome the storm—Ibecameit.
Connected, a part of a whole, I understood. For one brief, glorious instant, I knew what I was meant to do.
Through me, they would have justice.
Feasting, I dragged every drop of priestess magic through Carly’s skin and gave it focus, for it was my turn to wield a weapon—and I chose a thing that matched.
Berserker.
