Page 80 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

“Fuck,” she hissed.

“And a few of them were female.” Roman laughed. “You stole one of them from me.” He leaned over and flicked her face with his middle finger, pinging her cheek. “Weren’t you supposed to be working behind the bar? Not drinking it dry and dancing on top of it. If Paps finds out…”

“Oh Gods,” Breighly wailed, draping an arm over her face. She had tried to block out every memory of that night, especially the morning after, but every time she thought of him, something stirred in her chest.

She slammed down on her thoughts quickly.

She turned to face her favourite brother. “Roman, please tell me that I didn’t try and kiss the new Empress of Air.”

“No, Bry, you didn’t.” Roman’s eyebrow arched the same way that hers did.

She let out a sigh of relief.

“But you did try and drink a shot of whisky out of her cleavage.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she hissed again. “Why am I like this?” She threw her hands up.

“I did manage to stop you before that happened,” Roman reassured her.

Breighly looked over to the brother she had shared their mother’s womb with and whispered, “Thank you.” She swallowed down more guilt than she could chew. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I did.” He looked back at her, his brown eyes a little warmer than before. “It’s what we do for each other. We stop one another from making a complete and utter cock of ourselves. I suppose it’s a bit of a harder job for me these days.” He pinged her face again. “But Vanadey knows I try so that I will pass over to the Otherside gracefully when the time comes.”

Breighly finally laughed a little.

It was true, she had never known them not to cover for one another. They always stuck together. Roman would have her back—even if she was wrong—and she, his.

She linked her arm under his, like they did when they were children, and they lay there for a few minutes of silence, comfortable just being.

“Don’t go patrolling without me, okay?” he said, his voice deeper than usual. “It’s not safe out there right now. It’s not just witches that are falling, but wolves too.”

Something dark lay in his eyes, and Breighly’s feral impulses flexed under her muscles. She would eliminate anything that would harm him.

A wave of understanding drifted unspoken between them, and she nodded. “I won’t go patrolling without you.”

As Breighly looked out at the moon that was trying her hardest to give off a blue shine, she wondered how long it would take before she would break that promise to him.

Torin had met with the fortress’ guards at the largest iron-grey doors Emara had ever laid eyes on just moments ago, confirming who they were. Now, the guards, in similar uniforms to her trio, were escorting them through the corridors of the Amethyst Palace, a place so divine that she could feel the magic of the Gods within the walls. Quartz traced lines in the carved-out mountain, even on the inside of the palace, and the passageways were spacious enough to line up an army. For the sheer size of it, it felt warm, warmer than she expected, and chrome beacons were lit with balls of fire all down the corridors.

Emara tried to control the tightening knots that had developed in her stomach as her boots clicked along the polished floors, but her nerves were so tangled that she couldn’t unravel them.

She was here.

In the place she would ascend. In a place that would forever change who she was.

As if sensing her nervous tension, Torin placed a hand at the small of her back as he walked beside her. Giving a nod down at her, he let her know she was safe. The swords that were always strapped to him peeked up from behind his solid shoulders as a reminder of that.

Magin was in front, chatting about their journey to a guard he was acquainted with, and Artem was two steps behind Torin, sauntering casually like he had seen the palace a million times. She peered around at him and he lifted his eyebrows in a taunting fashion, eyes flicking to the hand at the base of her spine. Emara stuck out her tongue, her mind fighting against her body to supress what she wanted to do—flip him off.

Artem stifled a laugh that drew Torin’s attention, and he looked from Emara to over his shoulder.

“I would be careful if I were you,” Torin told Artem, his head turning back in the direction they were walking. “She is around her own kind now. She is more powerful than ever in the energy of her coven,” he said in a subtle way that only Emara and Artem could hear. “I would choose your battles with her wisely from now on.”

“Likewise, brother,” Artem replied with a taunting glint in his eye.

Emara didn’t dare hide the smile that spread on her face, even though the churning in her stomach didn’t cease because being here felt right.

After walking through one of the longest corridors in history, Magin and the guards at the front came to a halt, stopping everyone on their tracks.

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