Another bolt comes perfectly in between Asmo and me, forcing us to jump apart from each other. Bolts of lightning continue to strike around me, Cora directing each one. Every bolt lands inches away, as if she knows exactly where to strike.
Everyone is scrambling, jumping out of the way to avoid being hit. I don’t move. I stand, my feet planted on the ground, refusing to show any fear. This, at least, is something I can do right. Because I’m not afraid.
I’m fucking livid.
Cora cackles as she masterfully manipulates bolt after bolt around me, firing them so quickly that nobody can get near me. Every time Asmo runs toward me, his path is cut off by Cora.
She won’t kill me. That would be too easy. This game of hers has been going on for years. She won’t end it that quickly.
Asmo shifts, massive black mamba snake now barreling toward Cora. Her eyes narrow as she watches him approach, but she jumps effortlessly out of the way as he gets within inches. But what she doesn’t see is his tail whipping as he darts past her. It catches her in the air and sends her flying.
Marik bellows as she hits the ground and shifts into his animal form, the midnight-black complement to Asmo’s form. Another bolt of lightning cracks overhead, glittering on Marik’s ebony scales. He charges for Asmo, jaw wide open, ready to sink his venomous fangs into his brother’s ash-gray form.
Before he can, a giant grizzly bear pounces on Marik, claws shredding his skin as he knocks him off course from Asmo. Marik whips back, ready to strike at Barrett. But then, a white wolf flies through the air, sinking his canines into Marik’s back. Marik bares his fangs, twisting his neck to get to August.
And he does. One fang grazes August’s side. August leaps away with a yelp, then sprints away, trying to distance himself as much as he can from Marik. Marik doesn’t chase him, instead turning his attention back to Asmo.
But Asmo isn’t looking at him.
He’s speeding toward me, eyes locked on something behind me. I whirl around, only to find a cambion jumping toward me. I duck, but there’s no need. Asmo swallows the cambion whole just before it reaches me. He turns to me, snake eyes locked on me.
I reach up to stroke his charcoal scales in a thank you. As I do, Asmo’s body jerks, and he shifts back into his human form, naked body crashing to the ground.
His face is contorted in pain, eyes clenched and teeth gritted. His body is curled up, his hand grabbing one foot, two puncture wounds dripping with blood.
I sink to the ground, ripping another piece of my wedding dress off as I do. I drape it over his naked frame, panic threatening to consume me in the way that his face is crumpled with pain. Panic turns into rampant fear when Asmo’s eyes roll back into his head, and his body goes limp.
“Asmo?” I shake his limp frame. “Asmo!”
He stirs, his eyelids fluttering. He mumbles something, but I can’t make out what he says. He goes limp again.
No, no, no.
No.
Not Elle.
Not William.
Not Holly.
Not Asmo. Not the one who kissed my scars and healed a part of me that’s been broken for years. Not the one who believed in pushing me to my breaking point to make me stronger. Not the one who made me feel alive.
They’re not taking another person from me. It’s time for this to end.
I settle onto my haunches and summon my elemental magic. As lightning pours around me, I place my hands on the rough, hardwood floor. I send tendrils of magic through the floor, reaching for the earth below.
When I feel the cool clay beneath the building, I pull. Hard.
The building shakes, wooden flooring cracking as it does. Guards and creatures scramble, desperately trying to avoid the lightning and the cracks in the floor that are spreading.
As the floor shatters, shards of splintered wood and dirt rise, suspended in the air. I pull my magic back, then hurl it at Cora, sending it all hurtling toward her.
She sends it all away with a quick flick of her wrist before splaying her fingers again, sending lightning cracking through the darkening sky.With each bolt of lightning and each crack of thunder, the ceiling cracks open wider. The torrential downpour is now inside the throne room, adding to the utter chaos that’s erupted.
I grit my teeth, crouching down to shake the earth to the core this time, prepared to split the ground itself and suck Cora into a black hole of nothing, but something moves behind her, interrupting my train of thought.
The stag. Elle rides him, the blood-soaked strip of my wedding dress still hanging from her neck. Her own dress is hanging off her, exposing the thick ribbons of mottled flesh across her chest. Dried blood is crusted on her neck, chest, and toned arms, just a shade darker than her berry-red gown. Her bone-white antlers stand tall, a stark contrast to her red hair, red dress, and the blood that coats her.
