Is everyone going to stand by and let this happen?
More flashes of the moments Heraphia had seized in my arms rose. The foam that had formed at the corners of her mouth. The way she’d choked and gasped for air.
How Iaoth had drained her dry, stealing every possible thread of the future from her.
The High Priestess took a knife to my palm and sliced. The sting shot up my arm, and I couldn’t even flinch away as she squeezed out hot blood.
I’m going to die.
“Do not fucking give up on me, Sylaira,”Vaeron growled into my mind.“Your passivity will not serve you today. Fight.”
At his words—his permission—I dove deep into my well. Past the caverns in the southern lakes. Past the bottom of the ocean. All the way into the white abyss. And when I reached it, I threw my arms around every undulating strand of power. Absorbed every aching ounce of grief, rage, and agony and let them become me.
With a mighty tug on the core of my being, radiance exploded out of me, knocking the three back. I half-stumbled to the side, no longer held aloft by their magic. Dark marks disappeared in furious swipes, mixing with my blood. I spun a slow circle, focus darting between Iaoth, Stadiel, and the High Priestess, every sense on high alert and waiting for the hint that they planned to launch themselves at me again.
Dozens of gazes seared into us, and even the Atrium held its breath.
The sinister, cruel glint in Koron Stadiel’s eye stole the air from my lungs. My actions, in front of all the Seers, would not go unpunished.
“You will See today,” he ground out, his powerful frame growing ever larger as he stalked toward me again.
But a maelstrom roared in my veins. Every violent vision forced upon me struck like indigo bolts behind my eyes. The fury of having to run, of having to hide, of being caged time and time again, whipped up alongside it. The horror of witnessing my best friend die because of her power and how these bastards had exploited it flared next.
Together they emboldened me.Solidified my storm.
Through the tremble in my limbs, I held the line. A Sightkeeper grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back. The monarchs assumed their prior positions while the High Priestess dipped her fingers in the ruby cuts on my palms.
Energy prowled beneath my skin, crouching for its unleashing. There was enough left in my well for one more forceful throw of my captors. After that…
I was fucked.
The Divine Atrium’s door exploded inward, a detonation of wood and righteous wrath.
The High Priestess whipped her attention to the entry, lips parting. Stadiel scowled, a frustrated groan rumbling in his chest.
I jerked my head out of Iaoth’s gasp as my bond snapped taut.
Because there, a twister of white battering the space around him, was Vaeron.
Amid it, Maelsar stood, fingers curled around black whips. And behind them, Lyriasthe waited, bloodied forms collapsed at her feet.
“Get yourfuckinghands off her,” Vaeron snapped, stomping forward.
Those in his way scattered.
He and Maelsar didn’t even acknowledge the naked bodies filling the room.
No one around me moved.
Even as the air in the room sucked into a single point in Vaeron’s throat.
“BACK AWAY FROM MY MATE.”
A shockwave of sound shook the space, shattering one crystal chair after another. Metal vines groaned and collapsed, gouging the polished white stone.
As if they were puppets, the Sightkeeper, the High Priestess,and Iaoth leaped away. Only Stadiel remained where he was, hand pressed over the nexus of my magic.
Because Vaeron couldn’t break his mind; the Koron was immune.
