Page 40 of Claws of Death

My hands are shaking, but my legs are stable, ready to stand their ground as the next Flame makes it past the three males. I don’t wait to see his face, merely strike before he can get any ideas. Within a heartbeat, my steel tastes Fire Fairy blood. I don’t care whom I hit and which part of their body, as long as I draw the life outof them.

Big mistake.

The Flame I got is fashioning a gash across their upper arm, but it’s mostly his armor I destroyed. The grip on his sword hasn’t loosened; there is no crimson trail running down his arm, and he isn’t swaying on his feet. What he’s doing is grinning widely at me, perfect teeth exposed and deep brown eyes alive with the fire he’s summoned to his other hand.

“Give up, Princess.” Arebar pins me with his gaze. How he spilled past the others, I can’t fathom with my heart pounding in my throat and my magic straining to break free. I can’t let it. The others are too close; if I lose control, I’ll kill them.

“Not a chance.” Grasping my daggers harder, I take a measured step back to bring some space between me and the fight behind the Flame leader.

Thank the Guardians, Arebar bites, following me a step, grin broadening as if he knows he’s got me.

“There’s nowhere you can run. Nowhere you can hide.”

He’s right. He’s not going to use his sword to slowly batter me down when he has that vast fire at his disposal. He doesn’t even need to come near me to destroy me, and the forest no longer allows for any refuge, not even a quick hideout. If I don’t manage to shield, Arebar’s fire will eat me alive.

The thought hasn’t fully formed when the damned Flame releases his power, sending it straight at the center of my chest. The blast finds purchase on my leathers so fast I can’t think or even scream as panic delivers me back into its clutches. I can’t think of Myron or Royad or Silas, notof Kaira or even Herinor, as my power rips free of my skin, exploding like a silver star.

My body goes numb; my ears are ringing, vision blurring as I fight to stay on my feet.

I need to fight. Need to protect Myron. Need to?—

I need to, but my limbs won’t respond as they start burning from the release of power. Every last fiber of my being is so fucking hot. Like Arebar set me on fire after all and I’m being roasted alive.

“Ayna!” Someone shouts my name. I can barely hear them though over my own screams.

I’m on fire.

An orange glow surrounds me like a sphere, little flames dancing along my skin, my vision, as I stumble, fighting my way toward I don’t know what. The Silver Stream isn’t far back.

I won’t make it another three steps before my armor is burned through, and Vala’s water magic isn’t more than a whisper at the back of my mind. I won’t make it?—

“Suffocate the fire,” someone barks. Through the mate mark, I can feel his panic like another assault of heat, but I welcome the sensation, focusing on only that part of my body while I attempt to compartmentalize the rest of myself.

Something hits my side, and I topple over, groaning with pain as a weight covers my entire body, hands running over my limbs and head, my face and throat as if to smother the remaining flames.

“You’ll be fine,” the voice from before tells me, and I recognize it as Myron’s satin timbre, but the actual words, I don’t believe.

In the background, the noise of battle continues to rage, and I wonder if Myron abandoning the fight means all our doom. Before I can come to a conclusion, the pain of searing heat is replaced by the bite of frost and snow.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Clio’s disapproving tone might have been meant for Myron, but something tells me she’s talking to me.

Myron’s weight rolls off me, leaving me fighting for breath. My heart battles the ice creeping through my veins while I’m no longer sure I feel the rest of my body. One thought won’t leave my head, though, and it’s more soothing than the situation should allow for: Myron is alive. I didn’t kill them all with my outburst of magic.

Myron

“You’re an asshole extraordinaire,”Clio hisses at me. I’ve had all sorts of accusations and curses hurled at me by the Fairy Princess over the past weeks and disregarded them all.

This time, I’m not immune. This time, I missed my duty to protect Ayna and was nearly too late when the monster of a Flame set her on fire with his cursed magic. Gods, I can barely look at my mate with the blistering burn marks mocking my failure.

I’m not saying anything to Clio because there is nothing Icansay. No excuse.

“Want me to heal her, orwill you do the honors?”

“Of course, I will heal her.” What a question. “Your ice might have saved her life, but I’ll heal her myself.” Because I won’t trust anyone to be as gentle and thorough as I’ll be with her. “Now move out of my way.”

Clio shrugs, throwing her magic into the battle behind us. Royad and Silas are working together with Herinor and Kaira to lure the Flames into their blades before they can set off another blast of fire. Thankfully, Herinor’s shield is holding most of the strikes now that his guilt about Kaira’s injury is fueling his fury.

Silas is doing a great job at sending sparks of silver power at the remaining Flames, weakening them and distracting them from pulling up an endless stream of fire. It’s the best they can do two fighters short, but they are getting Clio, and the fairy immediately sends her ice magic into a loop of sizzling flames one of the Fire Fairies has drawn up right before Royad’s face.

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