My flames can hurt him. They can burn him and tear his flesh. But he won’t die unless I rip off his head, an achievement that has so far eluded me.
“You’re going after her,” he says. “Aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
His sharp fingernails descend as he continues to move back and forth, each step bringing him closer to me.
“I won’t let you hurt Thyra or bring danger to her,” he says. “But you can’t help it, can you? Your fire is a danger to everyone around you. One touch and you’ll kill her.”
His muscles bunch, and I sense he’s about to launch himself at me.
“Wait.” I force my hands to return to my sides. Force myself to take a step back. A sharp contrast to my nature. I don’t defuse situations. I set them ablaze. “I have a solution for my fire. A way to interact safely with Thyra.”
To an extent.
I don’t want to show Antony the dragon’s hide. It’s a step too far in revealing my hand. But I also can’t risk that he’ll try to stop me. Or shadow me and try to thwart me at every turn.
“Will you take my word on it?” I ask. “That I have a way to stop my fire from hurting her?”
He guffaws. “Fuck, no. Look at you. You’velowered your fists, but your fire keeps burning.” He arches his eyebrows. “Actually, your pants are on fire.”
Damn.
One side has caught alight where I lowered my right hand too close to it. Thankfully, the flame was small, so the fire-resistant material is burning slowly, but my pants will be ash within the space of another minute if I don’t put the fire out.
“You can’t even keep yourself clothed.”
“I have spare pants,” I snarl.
“Sure,” Antony replies. “Good luck pulling them on.”
He jabs at a spot behind himself. “I’d hate to kill you with your dick hanging out. There’s a puddle of ice water back there. You can use it before your pants burn through.”
A scowl is now fixed on my face. “No.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
Fuck it.If I don’t want to suffer the indignity of fighting him buck naked, then ice water is the least of the evils I’m facing.
I stride past him, taking a wide path, and head for the puddle he pointed to. Once past him, I turn and keep him in my sights.
I had already guessed that Stellen had come here. Thyra fled into the bloodlands, and then I saw her in the Frost Kingdom, so it stands to reason Stellen took her at some point between here and there. I’m not surprised to discover the water has remained icy. Laced with powerful frost.
I can’t use my hands to splash water onto my clothing—the liquid will evaporate too quickly—so I drop and roll, soaking the side of my clothing before the flames can burn all the way up to my waistband. I’m left with one side of my pants gaping at the thigh, but it’s better than my dick swinging in the breeze.
Antony creeps up on me, but I’m not unaware.
I haven’t taken my eyes off him.
“Is this your life?” he asks.
Casting him a glare, I rise into a crouch, silently grateful the flames spreading across my fingertips have also extinguished. For now. Stellen’s power was strong enough to combat mine on the day we first fought for Thyra. It seems the ice he leaves behind can also douse my flames, but I’m certain my fire will be back soon enough.
While I prepare a sharp retort, Antony asks, “How old were you when your father sent an Ember assassin to kill me?”
I lean back on my heels, my acerbic response vanishing.
I remember the uproar. The shouting. I didn’t know why everyone was so angry until Kaiba’s mother—my aunt—took me aside and told me what my father had tried to do. It was the one and only time she’d called him what he was:dishonorable.
