Page 248 of Heat of the Everflame

“If you will not go willingly, I’m authorized to bring you in,” the man warned.

My smile stayed, but all the humor in it vanished. “Go ahead, then. Bring me in.”

His sword hissed as it slid from its scabbard. His other hand curved into a claw at his side. Though I couldn’t see it as easily as Lumnos light, I knew how lethal the death magic of Fortos could be.

“Come peacefully, without a fight,” he urged.

“All these people came to see a show.” I shrugged. “Can’t let them go home empty-handed.”

The crowd cheered their agreement. The man’s eyes darted around at his soldiers, but he made no move to attack.

“What are you waiting for?” I teased. I let my swords dissolve into mist and wiggled my fingers. “I’ll make it easy. No weapons.”

His hand tightened on his hilt. Still, he held his ground.

I grinned. “You can’t, can you? You have no authority to attack a Crown.”

“You haven’t been coronated. You’re not yet considered a Crown.”

Sorae swooped from the sky and soared across the open square. Her wings snapped in a thunderous beat, the powerful downdraft sending the soldiers stumbling backward.

“I think she disagrees,” I said.

His glare hardened. “Soldiers, take her in.”

I tutted in disapproval. Tendrils of light sprouted from my palms and slithered across the ground. The soldiers hacked in vain as the glowing vines wrapped around their hands and hilts, then swore as the metal in their hands turned a molten red. Melting blades dripped to the dusty stone in puddles of steaming orange-yellow sludge.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I taunted.

“Fine,” the man ground out. “No weapons. We’ll do this the Descended way.”

The soldiers hesitated. Descended were reluctant to use magic in front of mortals for fear it might reveal their weakness, and in this crowded square, there was no shortage of riveted mortal eyes.

But the Fortos commander’s pride was on the line, and there was no greater enemy to good sense than a wounded ego. His eyes glowed scarlet as his palm rose and his fingers curled.

Unlike the female Fortos Descended, who all had healing magic like the kind I’d used on Luther, the Fortos men wielded a rotting, deadly force that decayed their victims’ bodies from within.

It left me wondering—if I hadallthe Kindred’s magic... did that include the Fortos power to kill?

His magic hit me like a foul odor, a rank wave of rot and mold. My skin briefly tingled, then flared with light as it harmlessly absorbed.

I cocked my head. “Is that it?”

His nostrils flared wide. “Soldiers, attack!”

This time, there was no hesitation. The crowd gasped as magic erupted from every angle and pummeled me in waves of sparks and fire and wind and snow. I held my ground, and my chest rose in a slow, calm cadence as my energy built.

Alixe once told me that godhoods fed on our emotions—perhaps that’s why mine was so strong and so frequently out of control—and with each brush of magic, I caught glimpses of its wielder. Some hateful, some angry. Some terrified of my reaction. Some wishing they could just go home.

My skin grew brighter, and so did my smile. “Are you done, or shall we keep going?”

The soldiers gawked at their commander, awaiting an order I knew would never come. The thinly veiled panic in his eyes told me I’d finally made my point.

I jerked my chin to the left. “I’d move, if I were you.”

He frowned. “Why would I—”

A massive shadow fell over his body, and his words cut off in a yelp. He dove out of the way with not a second to spare as Sorae slammed to the ground where he’d just stood. She growled, low and vicious, and snapped her jaws at the circle of soldiers to push them back.

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