The cave seemed to tilt sideways. A dark shadow crept at the edges of my vision as her magic coiled around mine. Inside mine. It flooded through me fast, and I couldn’t make out which was my magic and which was hers. I choked on my own breath.
Brenton was at my side, holding my waist while his magic surged and wrapped around mine. Where I could no longer sense her magic, he could and worked fast to contain her.
But Zaicha was faster, stronger.
The dragons roared, their wings thrashing, and their scales scraping against the stone. Younglings cried out, the hatchlings in their eggs curling their tiny bodies tight. Still, Zaicha’s pull ripped through the cave.
I tried to stop it, but my magic wasn’t mine anymore.
Inside their eggs, two hatchlings went limp. Just like that. Snuffed out before they even had a chance to live.
I screamed, but it came out as a broken sob.
Brenton’s magic slammed through the bond, smoke and death, and thatothernesshe told me about. He caught the surge and held it in a vise-like grip. The walls shook with the force, dust and gravel breaking loose from the ceiling.
Then I could feel it. Zaicha’s magic tangled with mine. Brenton had pulled it close, and it thrummed beneath our joined magic.
It wasn’t only mine anymore. It was hers.
I could burn it out.
The thought hit me. If I forced enough power through, I could burn out Zaicha’s power. I could end it.
A flash of memory seared my mind of fae who’d pushed too far. Their magic flared bright, then went out forever. Not just dimming, but gone.
I pulled at that current anyway. Pushed it hard enough that pain skirted down my spine.
“Finley.” The sharpness in Brenton’s tone ripped through the haze, hushed but dangerous.
I ignored it.
Magic built like a storm. My veins burned. My vision blurred. If I pushed a little more. If I just?—
Brenton roared.
His magic slammed into mine, ripping me back from the brink. My head snapped back as air punched in my lungs, the burning in my veins fading.
Zaicha’s magic recoiled, returning to a darkness I couldn’t follow.
For a few beats, neither of us moved. Then his hand locked around my arm. Not rough, but they were shaking.
“Do not ever—ever—make that choice for me,” Brenton hissed.
His eyes were black and wide. Not with fury but fear.
“Our magic is bound,” he said through clenched teeth. “If you burn out, I burn out.”
His grip loosened, but he didn’t release me yet.
Tears stung my eyes. “I wasn’t trying to?—”
“Yes, you were.” His voice came out as a raw rasp. “And you didn’t care what it would do to me. You don’t get to decide I live without my magic.”
I froze.
He let me go but looked at me like I’d tilted the world beneath his feet.
“All this time, I’ve given you space to choose.” His jaw flexed. “Your body. Your power. Your fate.” His voice faltered before hardening again. “But you didn’t give me the same.”
