Zevtowersbeforeme,fury crackling off his skin like lightning incarnate. The air sizzles around him, his face twisted into a mask of rage. A thick vein pulses in his forehead, tendons bulging in his neck.
I tear my gaze away, my heart battering my ribs with the force of a tempest. My eyes land on Daak’s lifeless body. Despair claws at my throat, my ribs, my heart, mysoul.
Daak. He hadn’t deservedthis.
Daak, who taught me how to fight and how to wield.
Daak, who held me through storms when my father turned his back on me.
Daak, who followed me into enemy territory as I sought my revenge.
Daak, who died knowing I no longer felt the same.
A strangled cry tears from my lips. The sound leaves me before I realize it’s mine. My knees hit stone, but I don’t feel the pain. All I can see is Daak—his body curled like he’s sleeping.
He can’t be gone. He can’t be.
I fall to my knees, cradling his head. My face is wet with tears as I trace a hand over his face. His skin is still warm, but Tides—his eyes.
They’re still open. Lifeless.
What will I tell his father?
Grief crawls out of the fractured hollow of my heart, flooding my veins with poisoned agony. This is my fault. This is all my fault.
Slowly, I raise my eyes to Zev.
He hasn’t moved. He’s a statue, stock still, a strange look on his face. His chest is heaving, hands clenching and unclenching. He opens his mouth—but it’s not a roar that escapes. It’s a breath. A falter. And then his face hardens into stone.
Violent power writhes inside me—not my gentle, healing power, but the feral tide of water. It rages inside me, desperate to be unleashed after months of suppression.Hekilled Daak.
I bare my teeth.
The water calls—
—and I respond.
With a sharp jab of my arm, water rises from the stream, jagged and swift, and for one blinding second, I revel in the water’s strength. In its fury.
Zev’s eyes widen with shock.
My hand shoots forward. Water slams into his chest, knocking him clear across the room. A loudthudresonates as his back collides with the stone wall.
My advantage is short-lived. He staggers to his feet, and the vengeful wrath in his steel gray eyes sucks the air from my lungs. Hate contorts his face, lips peeled back in a feral snarl, a vein throbbing across his forehead.
This isn’t Zev—it’s the Dark Commander.
And I’ve made myself his enemy.
He raises his hand—and I just know. This is no warning.
The Dark Commander means to kill me.
My arm arcs in the air in a graceful twirl. Just like Daak taught me. Water rises again, thin streams converging into thicker cords. It shoots at his chest, but he’s expecting it this time, easily rolling out of the way.
I didn’t freeze the water before launching it at his heart. I don’t know why.
I should have.
