Page 264 of Heat of the Everflame

I leaned back and smiled. “Orwhat?”

His aura crept toward me. He was careful at first—not tentative, but targeted, pushing hard at the center of my chest. The air grew thick with his magic, choking me in his ego and his toxic, violent pride.

My stillness made him angrier. His lip curled, and his godhood began to prod. Poking me, goading me, like two hands shoving my shoulders to provoke a punch. I held his gaze, unmoving, fighting the urge to respond in kind.

Finally, his magic took its shot. My nose filled with the smell of death, followed by the familiar tingle of frozen heat. My skin began to glow.

And my smile grew wider.

His eyes bulged for a fleeting moment before he hurriedly reeled his magic back. He stood, striding for the door. “Wait there. I’ll bring her in.”

I popped to my feet. “No need. I’ll question her in her cell.”

“The only visitors allowed inside the prison are the prisoners’ mates.”

I craned my neck, studying his hands as he unfastened the plethora of locks along the door. He eyed me and shifted his body to block my view.

“I’m not a visitor, I’m a Crown. If you can trust their mates, surely you can trust me.”

“Lady, I trust theprisonersmore than I trust you.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

He speared me with a glare, and I beamed cheerily in response. He threw the door open and stalked off down the hall.

Luther straightened on our approach. He raised an eyebrow, and my shoulders twitched in a subtle shrug.

“You’re not going in,” the King said again as we trailed behind him. “You can return to my office and wait, or you can go home to Lumn—”

Without warning, I thrust my aura out. Soldiers flew off their feet, their bodies flung like discarded dolls, while the King slammed face-first into a concrete wall. Debris crumbled to the ground as a fissure webbed across the ceiling, and a metal door to my right now bore a fancy new inward dent.

My Prince was another unfortunate casualty. I hadn’t yet learned to direct my aura the way the Fortos King had, so poor Luther had gone skidding across the floor. I flashed a smirk as I helped him to his feet.

“Still enjoy my rampages?” I whispered.

The heat in his eyes rivaled the summer sun. He yanked me up against him, his arousal digging into my hip. “Do that again,”he murmured in my ear, “and we’re going to need to find a room.”

We walked back to rejoin the King, who was peeling himself out of the crackled, impacted wall.

“Sorry about that,” I chirped. “Happens every time I sneeze.”

Luther nodded solemnly. “If she ever catches a cold, we’re going to need a whole new palace.”

I bit my cheek to hold back my grin. “You were saying something?”

The King brushed bits of concrete from his shoulders, looking dazed. His crimson eyes swept over me in renewed assessment—once an annoyance, now a threat.

My brows arched in silent challenge.

He cleared his throat. “Hurry up, then. Follow me.”

Chapter

Fifty-One

After being forced to turn over our weapons, we marched outside through a maze of boxy, soulless buildings. As we walked, he threw out gruff orders to soldiers he passed, all of whom had red eyes—and all of whom were male.

“Where are the female commanders?” I asked.

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