Page 97 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

Emara stilled.

That was a lot of cursing in one sentence, even for Torin.

She heard a hiss from Artem as they arrived outside her room. “What did she say?” he asked.

Torin placed Emara down in a gentler fashion than when he had swooped her up. Her head swished inside, causing her to sway. He steadied her with two hands, ensuring she was okay to stand before he turned to his brethren. “I am not getting into it with you.”

The blood finally drained from Emara’s head, and she could feel it running down her skull as she steadied herself against the door.

“I’ve got the first watch,” Torin said. Magin and Artem looked at each other as if they had no idea what was happening. At least they seemed to know better than to challenge him in this mood or pry for any more information. It wouldn’t be worth the risk to their lives.

They took their leave, not even looking at Torin again and bowing to Emara.

Once the final sounds of boots had gotten lost down the corridor, she turned to him. “What was that? Why are you so angry?”

“Do you even have to ask me that question?” His brows collided on this forehead.

“I get that the Supreme got under your skin, but you went in there ready for a fight and she hadn’t even provoked you.”

He shook his head, thinning his lips into a taut line. “No, Emara, you don’t understand.” He looked more like Viktir Blacksteel than ever, and it unnerved her. “She wasn’t trying to get under my skin. She was trying to get under yours. She was trying to make you feel inferior to her, and I won’t have it. First with the name calling, and then with the challenge of our treaty. She fucking knows what alliances her covens have. She signed the Gods-damned papers.” He clenched his fists, and his arm muscles threatened to burst through his uniform. “She was trying to get in your head and make you look weak in front of the other empresses. She didn’t want an alliance with me. Fuck, she has hundreds of alliances. She’s the most protected woman in the kingdom.”

“Why would she do that?” Emara’s voice was gentle against the rage that steamed from Torin. “Why would she want to get under my skin?”

“Because, Emara, one of the empresses in that room tonight is going to steal her life, her magic, her power.” His eyes turned like a roaring storm that threatened to rip out forests from their roots. “And there is a one in five chance that that person is you. She wants you all to know her status as a queen of her own faction.”

She stilled at his words.

He turned away, cursing under his breath.

It was a one in five chance that she would take the power from Deleine. The natural life cycle of the witching world. As one supreme rises, the other fades.

He braced himself against the wall with one hand, his neck bent. “I knew you would be in the firing line of witching politics soon enough, but I didn’t expect her to go in like a vulture.” He placed the other hand on his hip, shaking his head. “Not when you are so new to it all. She struck fast and hard tonight, wasting no time at all to make you feel weaker than her.”

Emara stood silent, running over the scene in her head again.

From what she could see, Emara knew he was thinking about how he could kill the Supreme. She moved towards him, placing a hand on his arm, smoothing out the fabric of his tunic with her thumb.

“She doesn’t intimidate me,” she said. It was a half-lie, but one she could keep telling herself in the hopes that it would come true.

“I should have just killed her.”

“And start a war against the hunters and the witches?” Emara giggled, and it sounded a little crazed. “You can’t just kill everyone in life who insults me.”

“Wanna bet?” Torin’s eyes met hers. Although they were finally full of dark amusement, she knew that the rage was still there, lurking in the shadows.

“No, I don’t want to bet.” She shook her head. “I am tired of you boys and your betting games.”

“Boys?” he questioned with a devilish grin.

“Animals.” She looked up at him with a grin of her own painted on her lips.

He swallowed before cupping her face with his hand. “It’s not just the Dark Army whose blood I want on the end of my swords. It’s anyone who is a threat to you.”

Her heart hesitated and her stomach dipped at the warmth of his large hands around her jaw. Her throat swelled at his words. “The Supreme is not my enemy. She might be bitter about one day losing all that she has gained, but you need to trust that I can handle myself.”

“I do trust you. I know what you are capable of.”

Instead of speaking, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed what she could reach on his face. She almost reached his chin, but like a magnetic force, his lips found hers. She ran her hands up into his hair, working through that beautifully silken ink before she broke off. His eyes were still closed and he held still, tilted in the fashion that made her want to kiss him more. But she knew that if she continued the kiss, it wouldn’t stop there. She didn’t want it to either, but Emara needed time to prepare. She had to focus and prepare for tomorrow.

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