Page 51 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses

Sonoma nodded. “To survive what’s coming, you’ll need their aid.”

You.

Notus.

I shoved that aside, forcing myself to focus. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make the fire burn as bright and hot as you can. I’ll do the rest.”

The flames flickered again, and I glanced into them. Summoning demons—who thrived on chaos, who ruled Hel and were the very definition of evil—was a line I never thought we’d cross.

But then again, the world I knew was already unraveling.

Sonoma was right. I had to do whatever it took to survive.

With a deep breath, I stepped forward, raising my hand toward the hearth. My magic stirred, the familiar warmth tingling through my fingertips as I whispered a word of powerto it, coaxing it to the surface. Flames shot from my hand. The fire leapt higher, crackling and roaring with renewed energy, casting the room in bright, orange light.

Sonoma watched the fire flare then turned to me, her face grave but resolute. “Are you ready?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

No.

Together, we stood before the fire, the heat pressing in on us as Sonoma reached for her blade.

“Blood of the bride,” she said quietly, slicing her palm and letting her blood drip into the fire. “The first offering.”

With a hiss, the fire turned black, curling with dark smoke.

I shot her a look. “Bride?”

She handed the blade to me. “Your turn.”

Whatever this magic was—whatever these words meant—she’d never mentioned it before. Not in all years’ worth of research and reading had I ever read anything about summoning the Furiosities. But Sonoma did it like this wasn’t her first time.

I sliced my palm and offered my blood to the flames.

“Blood of the heir. The second offering,” Sonoma called out.

The hissing grew louder as the flames expanded, licking up the chimney in bright bursts.

“And the third,” she said, pulling a vial from her cloak. “Blood of the darkness.”

Taking out the small vial of blood she’d gathered earlier, she poured it onto the fire, and it crackled, blazing so brightly it hurt my eyes.

I gasped as, within the flames, two figures appeared. They were nothing more than an outline at first. Then, almost as if made from the flames themselves, the forms solidified until two males stepped out of the hearth and into the room.

They passed right over the circle ofprotection stones.

Useless, even the ones etched with runes, apparently.

The one on the left was middle-aged with brown hair and a cruel snarl. The one on the right was an old man with a nasty glint in his murky eyes. Power, ancient and terrible, radiated from them both.

They blinked at Sonoma and then at me. The younger of the two sniffed at me like he was taking my measure. The older one just gave Sonoma a look that could’ve melted steel and said, “You have some nerve summoning us like this.”

My bones trembled at the furious power in his eyes.

Sonoma met his stare unflinchingly. “We need to talk,” she told them coldly.

---