Page 84 of Premonition of Peace

Rage in her truest form.

Raw. Unrestrained. Immeasurable.

Her hair lifted on end, the strands whipping around in that magical wind. Her eyes glowed with the fire of a thousand suns. Gold filled my vision, coloring every fiber, every inch, every particle.

Amid the chaos, one thing remained untouched.

Little.

She stood strong, gripping my other’s hand, grounding her when no other could.

I thought I’d unleashed myself before, but the truth was I’d buried my power in chains. I punished it for being tied to my emotions. Because Rage was so much more than her name. She was power. She was passion.

And right now, she was finally free.

Gold settled over Morgan Le Fay’s skin. It buried deep into the rot of her black magic. She didn’t have time to scream. There were no last words.

The golden shards spun faster and faster. Their wicked edges slicing her skin open, making way for more gold magic.

More chaos.

More . . .me.

She tried to fight. Her dark magic attempted to lash out, but like with Carissa, the second it encountered mine, it becamemine.I took control of her body, her blood, her magic, her very being.

I absorbed it. Absorbed her into myself.

I took every blackened spec and made it gold.

I tore apart her form to feed my own.

Until Morgan Le Fay was no more.

Fingers wrapped around my own. I looked up to see Little’s hand clasped with mine, linking me to Rage.

“It is done,” my seven-year-old self said.

My chest caved in. Tears I couldn’t stop poured from me. We might have survived but my others . . .

I sobbed. “Peace. Caretaker. Ann. The Warden. I—I can’t do it without them.”

“Then we won’t,” Little said.

I blinked away my watery vision, letting it sharpen enough so I could focus on her face. “But they’re . . .” I couldn’t say it. I wouldn’t.

“Pieces of you,” Bad Nat interjected hoarsely, stumbling forward from the wreckage she’d been trapped in. One hand fisted in her band shirt, where her ribs were broken and were now healing. “We all are. With The Morrigan vanquished, they will come back.”

“But when?” I asked.

Bad Nat lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, but that bitch Ann would never stay down for long. Even if you’re shattered right now, you’re still you. The others will return in time.”

“How do you know?”

Bad Nat grinned. “I’ve been telling you this all along. I’m the truth. The bitter, usually sucky truth that exists when you strip everything else away.”

“I . . . how do I just leave? How do I move on? The loci is a mess, and we’ve lost half of us. What do I even?—”

Little squeezed my hand.

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