Page 45 of Of Nine So Bold

I tensed at the sibilant whisper. That… that wasn’t possible.

My awareness jolted as the connection to my pawn disappeared in a splash of blood and pain. But my link to the others held, and through the eyes of my other subjects, I saw mypawn’s head fly while his body tumbled from the branches, the two parts ripped asunder by the demon’s claws.

The rough whisper of a chuckle rasped like grit-filled smoke across my skin.

No. Alaric was gone. Dead. I’d consumed his power and?—

Taken it.

Bound it.

Used it.

Made ityou.

No!

Outrage flooded me—because I would bedamnedif I allowed space inside myself for fear. Hatred was my power. My strength. The thing others feared and scorned. The thing that I embraced.

My hatred had burned that bastard once. It would stop whatever game Gwyneira’s allies were playing to make me think I heard him now.

Like poisonous water, my fury rushed out into my subjects. In only a heartbeat, they leapt at anyone around them who had yet to bend to my will. More and more, my power spread through the humans, while Gwyneira’s allies shouted and fought and scrambled to stay alive.

But I would destroy them. Theydaredto stand against me, to try to manipulate me, and for that I would?—

Fire slammed down upon my forest.

I stumbled backward from the apple tree in the castle courtyard, my awareness reeling between Lumilia and the forest where Gwyneira’s allies should have died. This was more than ordinary flame.

It was the nature of fire itself, and it wanted to devour me.

I screamed.

My connection to my subjects near Gwyneira fragmented like a broken mirror, showing pieces of the scene but nothing whole. Still, my pawns served me, trying to tear down her allies, fightingto reach her and destroy that girl who didn’t deserve anyone’s loyalty.

But the fire was everywhere.

The connection to my subjects in the forest vanished as the fire consumed them completely. My power withdrew from the trees as the trunks and branches and roots all died, leaving only ashes in the fissures I’d torn through the soil. Throughout the land, the rest of my subjects paused, their eyes turning in the direction of that distant, dying forest as if they too were appalled by what Gwyneira’s monstrous allies had done.

Shivers racked me while the pain of the forest’s burning faded away.

A hiss-click came from one of the Voidborn. A question of what had just happened.

Without looking at him, I flung my hand out. Bones snapped. Organs squished. The slip of shadow tried to flee, only to evaporate as I pinned him in the light of the rising sun.

Silence followed the thud of the dead body hitting the ground.

A shudder rolled through me. “Harran.”

The silence remained.

“Harran!”

Another several seconds ticked past, and then hurried footsteps rushed across the cobblestone courtyard. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Where were you?”

“C-cleaning the library. It’s really rather dusty since most of the staff no longer?—”

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