Page 293 of Heat of the Everflame

The High General bristled at my taunting tone. He raised a palm to attack, then paused, jaw working with indecision.

“Don’t tell me Fortos men are afraid of one weak little woman,” I mocked.

My arrow struck its bullseye in his pride. His magic barreled toward me, marked by its telltale stench of death. As my skin flashed with light and my energy rose, I dipped my chin to hide my triumphant smile.

He doubled his efforts, joined by his soldiers, and my body became a brilliant, shining star. I egged them on with pleas for mercy and a theatrical crumple to my knees. Scattered laughs arose from soldiers gleeful to see a Queen of Emarion beg for her life at their feet.

“The prisoners are getting away,” a man yelled. “We can’t get past her gryvern to follow them.”

The High General whipped his head toward them, then frowned. Slowly, he slid his gaze back to me, brows dipping as he watched his solders’ magic pelt my skin. “Gryverns always come when their Crowns are hurt. Why isn’t hers here?”

Awareness dawned in his eyes.

“Send the mounted cavalry.” He grabbed his sword and strode toward me. “I’ll draw the beast back here.”

Shit.

“Give me a blade and make it a fair fight,” I called out, backing away. “Or do you only get off on hurting women when they’re defenseless?”

The High General laughed. “You’re not defenseless. You’re thedistraction.”

His blade whistled toward my head. I hurriedly cast a shadow sword to deflect the strike.

“The Crowns will have your head,” he growled.

I smirked. “They’ll have to catch me first.”

“You think you can hide? You’re not even in power in your own realm. There’s no place on the continent where you’ll be safe.”

Dread tied a noose around my throat. His words were landing where his blows had not.

I ducked another swipe of his blade, my focus darting to the soldiers racing away on horseback. In a burst of panic, I hurled out my arm—and prayed.

A shocked but victorious cry tore out of me as the horses reared on their hind legs, courtesy of Faunos magic. Angry neighs joined bucking backs, sending their Descended riders plunging to the ground.

Searing pain lanced through my side.

The High General had taken advantage of my distraction. Hot, sticky blood oozed from a gash below my ribs.

The air rippled with Sorae’s distant, enraged snarl. Across the bond, I yelled an order to hold her position, assuring her I could survive without her help, but my doubt in my own words seeped through, weakening the binding force of my command. Her winged silhouette soared back and forth across the battlefield as she wrestled with the conflict.

I pushed the High General back with a shot of light, but I could barely lift my arm, let alone a weapon. I needed to heal—and I neededmagic.

I turned and ran at the nearest line of Descended soldiers. Just as I’d hoped, they reacted on instinct, pelting me with a violent buffet of magical attacks.

Energy surged through my blood and awakened my nerves in a deluge of fire and ice. Soldiers shielded their eyes and looked away as my skin grew blindingly bright. It was intoxicating, the highest high, a euphoric torrent of liquidlifeinjected directly into my veins. My wounds stitched together as my godhood gorged with abandon.

“Stop,” the High General bellowed. “Stop attacking her!”

Hundreds of heads—including mine—swiveled at once. His crimson eyes were as vibrant as fresh-drawn blood. “I don’t know how, but you’re getting stronger. Youwantus to attack.”

“You do that a lot, don’t you?” I asked.

His scowl wavered. “Do what?”

“Convince yourself that womenwantwhat you’re offering.”

A venomous smile that I very much disliked the look of unfurled across his face. “You know what? I think I’ve finally figured you out.”

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