Page 152 of The Fifth Heir

The words reached him.

I saw the moment he remembered the final brazier.

He looked at the flames being pulled from his hands.

Then he lowered them.

Fire surged toward me.

The scale at my wrist burned hotter.

I kept both palms against the clear rune.

“Rafe.”

His silver eyes met mine.

“This is the part where I make a terrible decision because you asked nicely?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I understand those.”

He stopped tearing at the positional ward.

Lightning filled the Storm channel.

Sebastian released his Shadow next. Leander was last.

“You said the system is taking power without consent,” he said.

“It is.”

“And your solution is to give it more.”

“My solution is to control where it goes.”

“If you’re wrong—”

“I know.”

He closed his eyes.

Frost flowed from his torc.

All four elements reached the center.

Pain struck my wrist and traveled up my arm. The torc tightened until breathing became difficult. For one instant, the elemental colors covered my vision completely.

I did not absorb them.

I held the pattern.

That was what I knew how to do. Not create Fire or command Frost. Not become Storm or disappear into Shadow. I read where each power wanted to travel, kept their structures separate, and refused to let the broken system decide their destination.

Fire remained red. Frost remained blue. Storm remained silver, and Shadow remained violet.

I drew a line toward the outer containment ring.