Page 115 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

The moment their hands touched, electricity sparked between them, shadows immediately floating from Lea’s fingers and wrapping around Genevieve's hand and up her arm. Both of them inhaled sharply, their eyes widening.

"Hello, old friend," Genevieve said with tears in her eyes as her magic fought to return home. Lea allowed the shadows to move of their own volition and snake out of her chest, giving them permission to go where they wanted. Within seconds, Genevieve was completely engulfed in black smoke-like shadows, so dark it was as if they were trying to consume her completely.

"I think it’s working," Lea whispered as she cracked open an eye. The foreign feeling inside her that she hadn’t understood was almost gone, and only the smallest bit remained between her light and her own night magic, as well as the darker, raw power she kept locked down deep.

Lea pushed out the last of Genevieve’s magic and watched in awe as it filled the room. There was so much more of it than she’d thought.

"Call it back to you, Mother," Gray spoke from somewhere in the darkness.

"I’m trying," she stuttered, her voice strained.

Hesitantly, Lea pulled her fingers from Genevieve’s grasp. Maybe without contact… The shadows screamed, roaring in protest as they were pulled away from their master and back against Lea’s skin. Lea waved her hand in the air, trying to shake away their hold, but wherever her hand moved, the shadows followed.

"Don’t let go, please," Genevieve gasped, clasping Lea’s hand between both of hers. Lea allowed the shadows to once again wrap around Genevieve and squeezed her eyes shut. She searched through every inch of the cavern inside her, looking for whatever still remained that would not allow the queen’s magic to leave her. She found the very center of her magic, where her light and her mate bond and her shadows combined, and, there! Swirling among her own magic was a wisp of a shadow that looked different,feltdifferent.

She formed the fire inside her into a flaming dagger, red hot and deathly sharp, and with every ounce of strength she could find, she cut the queen’s magic from her own with a single, clean swipe. The shadows around them, finally free, flew through the room in a large arc, breaking away from Lea completely before rushing toward Genevieve. The queen held out her arms, throwing her head back as the shadows crashed into her chest and disappeared, leaving only silence and startling darkness, every candle extinguishing at once.

Lea sparked the candles, and the room brightened as Genevieve slowly lowered her arms and opened her eyes, tears dripping from her eyelashes. "You did it," she whispered as she raised a slender hand. Long tendrils of deep, blue-black shadows drifted from her fingers, gracefully floating toward Lea and caressing her cheek. "You really did it. How can I ever repay you?"

"It was yours to begin with." Lea said, feeling lighter without the queen’s magic, the discomfort behind her sternum suddenly and completely eased.

The queen’s lip trembled as she nodded and turned to Gray. "I’m sorry I didn’t save your sister. I’m sorry I let him hurt you. I was weak."

"You were a victim, too." Gray’s voice was strained, but Lea could feel the strength of his emotions. He was brimming with love, the kind of love a child feels for their mother.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Genevieve asked.

Lea stood from the couch, walking toward the bedroom and kissing Gray on the cheek as she passed.I’m tired. I think I’ll go to sleep, but take your time,she said into his mind. Genevieve and Gray deserved privacy, a moment to talk, to heal, just the two of them.

As she sat down at the vanity, Lea placed her palms flat on the smooth wood, the swirling grain pressing into her fingers. She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering if she looked any different now that she’d cut the queen’s magic away. But her reflection remained unchanged other than the dark circles beneath her tired eyes.

Lea exhaled, wondering if she should go to bed or wait for her mate. She could only imagine how much Gray and his mother had to talk about, but Lea knew that Genevieve was already forgiven. Gray wouldn’t blame her for being afraid of Brennus, wouldn’t fault her for his sister's death. In her own way, Genevieve had protected them by not fighting the Black King and making them a bigger target for his anger, another way to hurt his wife.

No. All the blame laid on a single man’s shoulders. A man who was now dead. Lea hung her head and allowed herself to mourn the fact that she wasn’t the one who’d ended his life. Shadows swirled in her eyes as the raw, dark magic in her chest twisted. It yearned for vengeance, and without Genevieve’s magic taking up space in her chest, it was harder to hold at bay.

Lea hung her head. She was so exhausted. From the blood loss and lack of sleep, sure, but also from the pressure of holding that darkness down. So for just a few moments, alone in the flickering light, Lea stopped fighting it. She allowed a tiny stream of that raw, terrifying magic to escape into her chest, filling her with fury and vengeance before pushing it back down with a deep breath and climbing into bed. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Or would be, if not for the ten perfect indentations in the wood where the black fire that had engulfed her hands had burned it away, leaving scorch marks behind. For just a moment, she’d been fire. She’d been destruction. She had become death herself.

Chapter 75

Emma

Therewerethirteenbooksspread out across Emma’s room. She’d made sure to take care with them, opening each one gently so as to not break their spines and avoiding folding corners of the old, but well-preserved pages. It amazed Emma how much she’d learned over the past few weeks; everything from different types of magic she hadn’t known existed, to the history of the kingdom, even before Queen Emmaline’s death.

There were still so many she hadn’t been able to read completely, which was why, when Thomas knocked at her door, she didn’t even notice. It wasn’t until he opened the door and popped his head inside that she realized someone was in her room.

Emma jumped, squealing as she scrambled backward. "Thomas! You scared me!"

"I’m sorry." He took a step back, holding up his hands. "I figured you’d be lost in your reading, so I thought I’d check on you. See if you were hungry or needed anything. I brought you a muffin. But I can leave if you’re busy," he offered, gesturing toward the door.

"No! Um, no." She lowered her eyes, feeling wholly uncomfortable with Thomas’s undivided attention. It wasn’t his fault. Emma dislikedmostpeople’s attention. Everyone’s really, except for her mother. But with Thomas, his eyes on her face made her nervous in a different way, one that caused butterfly wings to tickle her stomach. But it wasn’t just that. She felt unprepared when it came to her feelings for Thomas.Why didn’t I search King Tanad’s library for some sort of book on knowing if a man likes you?

"What are you reading about?" Thomas approached slowly as if he was afraid he would scare those butterflies away.

Scooting to the side to give him room to sit, Emma pointed to the page she was reading. She’d read these words before, back in Calir. Thank the gods that she’d chosen this book to start with, because without it, she would have missed the opportunity to get Eudora’s help.

The witch had called on her one night when she was in the library alone, exactly as she’d been reading this very page. "You’ll need a potion for that." The old woman had raised her chin as if daring Emma to argue with her. "If you want it to work, that is."

Emma had been speechless, only nodding with an open mouth as Eudora turned with a flourish and closed the door behind her. A few days later, Gray had handed her the potion without expecting any answers in return, and she’d been grateful. She wasn’t sure her plan would work, and had needed to find out more before giving her friends hope. But now? She was confident she could do what she’d been reading about all these weeks. Well, eighty-six percent confident.

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