Page 300 of Burn of the Everflame

He scoffed. “And how are you going to force me?”

“I won’t have to. This is an order from your Queen.” She leaned in, teeth bared. “And you will obey.”

My body responded to her courage in dark, carnal ways. I should have been raising my shield to protect her, but she needed this moment. She needed to show him, herself, and everyone else that her true strength had never been in her magic—and that when it came to saving her people, no one would stand in her way.

“And there will be no consequences if I do?” Symond asked, voice threaded with threat. “Not even from your snarling guard dog over there?”

“Yes,” she said without flinching. “We need to see if the godstone mixture my brother made can stop Umbros magic from getting in.”

His mouth curled into a smile. “As you wish.” His hand twitched, and beside me, Teller went stiff. “Why don’t you tell Her Majesty what you really think of her?”

Teller’s eyes glazed over as his head swiveled to Diem. “Sometimes, I hate being your brother,” he said, his voice unnaturally monotone. “I’m sick of living in your shadow.”

“Stop,” I barked.

Symond shrugged. “Queen’s orders.”

“It feels like the only way I’ll ever live my own life is if one of us is d⁠—”

I raised a shield to sever Symond’s magic, and Teller staggered back, looking horrified. “No—D, I didn’t mean it.”

“Alixe is wearing the mixture, not my brother,” Diem said calmly. Though she appeared unaffected by Symond’s trick, pain flooded our bond. I knew Teller’s words had confirmed the worst, cruelest voices in her head.

Symond’s smile stretched wider. “My mistake.” He flicked a hand at Alixe. “Why don’t you tell her, instead?”

Alixe fell back a step, looking like she’d just taken a shove—but her mouth remained closed.

Symond’s amusement faded. His eyes narrowed as he turned toward her fully, raising both palms. The air around us shuddered with a surge of his aura.

“You’re . . . too afraid . . . to lead,” Alixe said in a stilted tone.

Grim disappointment rolled off Diem, and I knew it wasn’t from Alixe’s comments alone.

“I’ll keep working on it,” Teller insisted. “I can run some more tests.”

“We don’t have time for tests,” Diem said, sighing. “Just focus on the flameroot.”

“You don’t . . . trust yourself,” Alixe droned on. “Until . . . you do . . . we can’t, either.”

I raised a shield around Alixe, and her face went pale as she realized what she’d done.

“Your Majesty,” she began, looking distraught.

“It’s fine,” Diem murmured. “Nothing I didn’t already know.” She shut her emotions down in a way that was painfully familiar, then turned for the palace, with the others sulking behind her.

I stared at Symond, imagining all the violent ways I wanted to kill him. He matched my hateful look, looking as if he was challenging me to do it. Almost as if he hoped I’d unleash.

“Do you even want to live?” I asked him.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “What a stupid question.”

“Is it?” Drusila asked. “I had to drag you into the godstone room during the attack. Now you don’t want to fight or even help. It’s like you’ve given up.”

“How I feel is none of your concern,” he snapped.

She frowned. “We’re Centenaries. We don’t keep things from each other.” Her face softened. “Is this about Yrselle? You took her death so hard.”

Symond waved his hand, and Drusila’s mouth closed with a snap. Her eyes went wide, then her pitying expression hardened into anger as she staggered backward toward her tent as if being pushed against her will.