Page 98 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

Ignoring us both, Mark focuses on Olive. As soon as she gasps for breath, he drops the wet sand straight into her mouth. When she gags, he shoves a second handful up her nose.

I don’t realize I’m screaming until Mark palms his dagger and glares at me. “Shut up, bitch!” The weapon flies, glancing off my shoulder.

I snap. Power bursts from my body like a flood crashing through a dam, shattering Elijah’s hold as my magic unleashes.

Chapter Thirty-Three

A wall of pure flame shoots straight up into the sky, and the release is incredible. The fire coursing through me feels like a resurrection of my soul. It’s as if failing to use my magic year after year created an ever-growing pressure inside me, and over time, the force gradually crushed my bones and organs without me knowing, like a lobster slowly boiled to death.

My flames spread at an alarming rate, racing across the sand in both directions to create a barrier separating Olive and I from the others. Faint screams ring out, though it’s hard to hear over the crackling roar.

Olive chokes and hacking to clear her mouth and throat. I somehow manage to free her from the sand prison and drag her into the ocean. Cupping water, I help her rinse out her mouth until she stops gasping.

All the while, the magic rushes from me. My fire takes on a life of its own. When I turn back, the flames lick even higher, stretching taller than three full grown dragons stacked one atop the other. I know I should panic, but the sight mesmerizes me. By Ziva, those flames. They’re so beautiful. And unusual. The vibrant red-orange colors at the top gradually melt into purples and blues.

As I watch the inferno dance through the air, the past flashes through my head.

Shrieks of agony. The acrid scent of scorching flesh. Horses screaming.

A feeling of utter helplessness.

Behind me, someone calls out my name. Desperation laces the feminine voice.Olive.

As if I’m in a dream, I notice Olive grab my arm and point. Flames barrel down the beach toward the forest.

Shouts carry from the other direction. Theo, Nick, and Abel race in our direction, but the heat must get too intense. Partway, the trio alters course and splash into the water. From the opposite side of the flame barrier, an agonized wail reaches us.

In my head, the events play out through a thick, mental fog, merging with the past and making it difficult to tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Horses shrieking. Straw burning. Screams. Sobs.

“Lark? Lark! Stop the fire!”

Cold water slaps my face, ripping me from my memories. Clarity returns and pummels me like a giant fist.

The fire.Myfire. It blazes everywhere with no signs of dying. Heat scorches the air, and I’m pretty sure the reason my uniform clings to me like a second skin is sweat, not sea water. Another wail makes me gasp.

Elijah, Mark, Trevor. They’re trapped by my fire. They’re going to die.

No. My fire iskillingthem.

I try to reel in my magic. Again and again and again. With each failed attempt, fear rises. Eventually, I shake my head, panting. It’s no use. “I can’t. It’s too strong. I don’t know how.”

Any lingering joy dissolves into panic. Horror clogs my throat and strangles my lungs.

Not again.

Olive’s voice. The screams. The rest of my flight unit, shouting at me. All the noises fade away as I stand rooted in place, a victim of my own helplessness, while two words beat a constant litany in my head.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

A deep, commanding voice cuts through the haze.

“Axton! What the fuck?”

When I blink, Instructor Thorne is standing before me. I stumble into him and clutch his shirt, babbling and sobbing. “I can’t do this. I don’t know how. It’s happening again. Make it stop. Make it st?—”

A hard shake rattles my teeth. The motion knocks me out of meltdown mode long enough to realize his face is only a hair’s breadth away.

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