Page 84 of A Petal in the Crown

"Stefan," Erik said, fighting against every fiber of his being that begged him to incinerate the man on the spot. "It appears you all found my horse." He tilted his head toward the terracotta mare straining against her lead to get back to him. "She got spooked in the earthquake. Would you bring her to me?"

"Of course." Stefan slid off his own horse, grabbed Cinnamon's reins, and walked her over to Erik.

"Thank you," he muttered, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth. "The rest of you," Erik said. "What are your names?"

Stefan turned to walk back toward his friends, but Erik shot a line of fire in front of him.

"Stay where you are," Erik commanded.

"I'm not sure what's going on here, but—" Stefan stammered.

"Shut up,” Erik spat. “Better yet, name your friends for me. Jakob, perhaps?" his eyes narrowed on one of the men, and he stiffened, his face going pale. He assessed the boy—thin and tall, with wide shoulders and a strong jaw. Still, he was no match for Erik.

"There's no Jakob here," Stefan protested. "I don't know what you're talking about, or who you think you are—"

Erik encircled Stefan with fire, and he froze.

"Don't. You.Dare.Lie to me," Erik seethed. “I already think you're a coward. Try to find a shred of dignity, you worthless sack of filth."

Stefan's mouth gaped open as his eyes flicked from the fire to Erik, up and down like a bouncing ball.

"What do you want from us?" the man Erik had identified as Jakob finally asked.

Erik lowered his chin and stared him down. "The rest of your names. As I have already requested."

Jakob swallowed, looking around at his comrades. He rattled off the names, Parker, Trey, Shawn… Each man’s eyes narrowed as he called them out. "Now, if you don't mind, I think you should go."

Erik laughed, but there was nothing jolly in the sound. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Hey man,” the man Jakob had outed as Trey said. “I don’t know what's going on here or what you have against these two, but I just met them like a week ago. So whatever your vendetta is, I'd like to be left out of it."

The others chimed in, agreeing—all except for two men who shared a nervous look, Oliver and Liam; Stefan’s friends. Erik was as certain of it as he was his own name, as certain as he was that his heart beat for Janelle, and that finding the men who had hurt her was his purpose inlife.

"Fine," Erik said. "Everyone can go except Stefan and Jakob."

The men wasted no time turning their horses to leave, but Erik stopped Oliver and Liam with a blast of fire that made their horses rear so violently, they were almost thrown to the ground. "Oh, and you two. Stay. Let’s chat."

The other soldiers couldn’t leave fast enough, sprinting away on their horses without looking back, but Erik didn’t care where they went. He wouldn’t let them join the rebellion—they certainly couldn’t be trusted when they had fled from their comrades. But his quarrel wasn’t with them.

"What do you want from us?" Liam asked, his voice so nasally it made Erik want to punch him in the throat.

Erik looked over his shoulder to see if Janelle was still hiding within the house, and she was nowhere in sight. It didn’t bother Erik. If she didn’t want to make herself known, that was her decision, and he would respect it. But whether she wanted to watch or not, these men were going to die.

"You hurt someone very dear to me," Erik said, flicking a finger and sending trails of fire to surround the men.

"What are you talking about?" Stefan stuttered. “We’ve never met you before. We’ve never hurt anyone. Not anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

Absolute rage surged through Erik’s chest. "What about in Bearswillow? A girl named Janelle? Didshedeserve it?"

Jakob stiffened, but Stefan threw his head back, cackling. "That bitch? We did the world a favor by—"

Erik couldn't control himself. He blasted a wall of flames at Stefan, so hot that he was only able to scream for a moment before his skin melted off, and he collapsed to the ground, nothing more than a bloody pile of muscle and bone.

Erik sighed. He’d wanted to drag an apology from each of their throatsbeforekilling them, make each one admit to what they had done. Stefancertainly couldn’t speak now. He was as dead as they come, but he supposed he still had a chance to get apologies from three of the four. It would have to do.

Erik turned back to the others, inching the fire closer to them. Taunting them. Jakob was shaking, his face pale as a ghost, his jaw open in shock. "What— Who are you?"

"He's my husband," Janelle said, her voice strong as she stepped out of the doorway. Erik smiled as she lifted her chin and met Jakob’s eyes. Beautiful. She was so damn beautiful and strong and brave. Pride swelled in Erik’s chest, unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

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