Page 128 of Forging Darkness

“Steady.” Steel’s voice snaps me out of my downward spiral. “You were almost there.”

Shaking off the foreign feelings, my eyes stay locked on the concentrated energy I hold between my hands.

Only one shot, I think again as the ball regains its size and color.

Throwing everything I have and everything I am into the angel-fire, I release it toward Silver with a scream that comes from the depths of my soul.

It blasts straight at her, and at the last moment she tries to duck out of the way, but it’s too late. Smacking right into her chest, the flames overtake her instantaneously.

I push even more power into the blaze and then my body gives out, having spent all my energy on that one blast.

Steel’s right there with me. He drops to a crouch, positioning himself in front of me to block any blowback from the blast.

Silver remains standing as if the angel-fire won’t let her do any less. Her back bows, and her head snaps skyward in a silent scream. Her handcuffs crack, and her arms fly out to either side. Agony is written all over her face and body.

I can still see her through the flames. They haven’t consumed her yet, but as I watch, the ends of her hair start to catch fire.

“Steel, move!” I yell, stumbling to my feet. “It’s not enough, I’ve got to hit her again.”

I have no idea how I know, but it’s true.

Steel’s gaze lasers on mine, saturated with doubt. I don’t have time to convince him.

He tries to stop me as I sprint toward Silver, but his hands skim off my armor. Plunging into the flames, I set my palms over Silver’s heart and shoot every last drop of angel-fire I have left into her chest.

Silver detonates like a bomb. I’m flung back and slam into Steel. We both hit the ground and slide about ten feet, but quickly wrangle ourselves up again.

The flames enveloping Silver burn white and gold. A dark substance leaks from her eyes, ears and mouth. It trickles at first, but soon pours from all three. Darkness starts to leak from her very skin and a shadowy cast of Silver forms in front of her, mirroring her stance. Just like what happened with Steel.

I slap my hands over my ears, remembering what comes next. Steel only follows my lead when the first high-pitched screech leaves her body. When it reaches a level to shatter glass, the shadow in front of her explodes in a cloud of ash and Silver drops to the floor.

Steel and I exchange a panicked glance before rushing to Silver. There are scorch marks on the ground beneath her and the wall, but it’s clear that it worked. Besides the fact that she isn’t a pile of cinders, her skin has darkened to match the bronze look of the rest of her family and her hair—besides the singed ends—is glossy and clean.

Silver isn’t a Forsaken any longer.

With a cough, her lids flutter open, revealing the same teal eyes as her brother’s. They now hold a soft vulnerability I’ve never witnessed in her before. Her gaze bounces from Steel to me and back again as we hover over her prone form.

“I’m alive.” Her chin trembles and eyes glisten with unshed tears.

The smile that breaks over my face is genuine. “Yes, you are.”

Steel tries to help her sit up, but she jerks out of his grasp. Anger hardens her features. “Don’t touch me,” she snaps at him.

Steel flinches but backs off. “We should phase back.”

We all take a moment to do so, and then Silver wobbles to her feet without accepting help from either of us. The door to the gym flies open, smashing back against the wall, and Eloise shoots through. Her cheeks are covered in tears as she runs to Silver and throws her arms around her daughter.

Silver stiffens and doesn’t move to embrace her mother, but Eloise either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

Laurent enters a moment later with the rest of the Council. I step back to let the family have their moment, even if it is a super awkward one. For as overjoyed Eloise and Laurent are to have their daughter back, Silver only appears agitated.

A presence hovers next to me. One of the Elders stands to my right. I think it’s Zara, the dominion Elder.

Her hair is sheered into a chin-length bob, longer in the front and shorter in the back. She’s tall, even for an angel-born female—probably around six-six. Her eyes are hooded and light gray, the combination just shy of unsettling. There isn’t a wrinkle on her face; instead, her age shows in the grace of her movements and the sharpness of her gaze.

“You realize, this changes everything.”

The words sink into my gut and sour. Floating my gaze past the Durand family, I catch the rest of the Elders standing in a bunch. Their focus not on the reunion in front of them, but on me.

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