Page 31 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

She didn’t have to be alone. She could still validate her feelings, but she didn’t need to be alone. She didn’t have to let the darkness win. If she was a warrior, like she wanted to be, if she was training to fight…she would fight.

She couldn’t let the mindset she was in now break her down even further.

Emara wasn’t going to. This was her last night of freedom before everyone in the magic community looked at her like she was divine. This was the last night where she could roam freely, anywhere. This was the last night she would be without guards and protection for Gods knew how long, and it was probably the last time she could say what she wanted, wear what she wanted, and be who she was now. Gods, it was probably the last time she could do anything she wished before the ascension. Drink what she wanted, eat what she wanted, kiss whom she wanted.

Tomorrow, all of that was gone.

She wasn’t sure what her life was going to look like after the ascension, after tonight. She was about to have at least two guards with her at all times, in fear of someone trying to kill her or take her. Or sell her to the Underworld for Thorin knows what reason.

But she had one more night just for her.

A thought struck her like a lightning bolt from the sky, starting her heart again. A little air blew around the room and the palms of her hands began to warm.

This is not how Callyn Greymore would be spending her last night of freedom. She wouldn’t be alone, wallowing in her own grief. She wouldn’t let the darkness win. She was the light. She would have her magic box of tricks ready, and a daring dress already laid out on the bed with accessories to match. Emara wasn’t really sure what being the empress of a coven meant, but she sure knew it wouldn’t mean freedom, not all of the time. Not in the way Cally would demand.

The weight of her new title sat heavy on her chest.

Tonight, she could forget all of it, forget about the destruction and devastation that had been caused by her attempted abduction. She could pretend like it didn’t exist. Tonight, she could be whoever she wanted to be without having to answer to anyone. She wasn’t an empress yet, she wasn’t betrothed, she hadn’t ascended. She was no one.

She was anyone.

She stood, the vanity chair scraping along the floor. She could be whoever she wanted to be. She could enjoy it, despite what Torin bloody Blacksteel said about her, despite what she had lost, despite how she felt. She owed it to Callyn.

Her light.

She absolutely could have a good time instead of sitting opposite a mirror with tears tracking down her swollen face. She was made of stronger stuff, and she was about to prove it.

She took off through the doors of her new room and headed in the direction of her old one where it all began.

The bar of La Luna was heaving, filled with all kinds of magical creatures. The flashing lights from the enchanted beacons made it hard to tell what species roamed among them, but he knew hunters were a dominant presence. After all, the majority of them didn’t know the next time they could get a night like this again, a night with endless drinks and limitless female attention.

Some of them would never see another night like this. The Gods would claim them, or maybe the Dark Army would.

Typically, Torin Blacksteel would have at least three females hanging around his neck by now, but any advances they had made towards him tonight he had declined. Normally, he would have sunk a full bottle of his favourite rum, but he didn’t feel in the mood for that either. Usually, he would feel the thrumming music pump through his veins.

But not tonight.

What in the Underworld was wrong with him?

He took a small sip of his rum on ice. It tasted the same as usual, so nothing was wrong with the liquor. It was clearly him. Something was wrong with him. He had been in a funny mood as of late, a mood that he couldn’t place or decipher.

Artem Stryker sat beside him with a gorgeous blonde on either side, Marcus was chatting to a redhead in the corner, and even Gideon was chatting to a small brunette by the bar. She was attractive, but the majority of the females in here were. He just didn’t fancy the chase tonight. To make himself feel better, he had concluded it was because of all the questions that had been eating at his mind recently.

Yeah, that was it. He was tired.

It was all the mystery of the recent events that had taken over his mind, and he was exhausted.

“Are you going to sit there all night or are you going to get yourself involved?” Artem shouted to him over the pounding of the enchanted music.

“I am involved,” he shouted back before he swallowed the remaining liquor in his glass. He slammed it down on the table and before he could sit back on his seat, a girl swanned over with another drink for him. She sat down next to Torin, her blue chiffon dress riding up her thigh as she took a seat. She crossed her legs and leaned in.

“I have been waiting all night for you to finish that drink so I could bring you a new one,” she purred into his ear.

Honestly, he hadn’t even noticed her, and he normally would have noticed anyone watching him, especially a beautiful girl. He nodded in thanks, but didn’t lift the drink or even look at her. He watched the dancefloor as the bodies intertwined with each other in the rhythm of the music. The atmosphere in La Luna was one of a kind, but tonight, it all felt flat to him.

The girl placed a hand on his thigh. “You are Torin Blacksteel, aren’t you?” She smiled seductively with rose-pink lips.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he answered, not hiding his increasing irritation. “Playing dumb isn’t attractive.”

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