Page 90 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame

To punctuate that statement, I heard the roar and whoosh of fire. The same sound I heard in the Last Guard and Wyfell—flames eating wood, destroying whole buildings.

“Almost,” he grunted. “I need to be able to touch it, Mak—yes, stay there!”

My eyelids sagged, lashes brushing my cheeks. I couldn’t see what was happening but Ifelthis power. It rose around me like an air current, like the warmth of the sun and the comfort of his embrace. I knew that warmth could turn to ice, sensed the danger within it, but all it did was make me lean into it.

His breath hissed over me. “It’s not enough,” he said, so quiet I didn’t think I was meant to hear it. “Fuck, Sabira can you—”

“Already doing it,” she replied brusquely.

I would have loved to open my eyes to see what was happening, but every eyelid was made of lead, heavy and immovable. “Varidian,” I murmured.

“You’re alright, dearling, I’ve got you,” he said, a strain to his voice that I didn’t like. Washealright? I tried to force my eyes open to no avail, tried to move my body, to help. He was my husband and I didn’t like to hear him sound so drained.

“It’s not working,” Sabira shouted.

“I know,” Varidian said through gritted teeth, stiffening behind me, his body made of ice and steel.

“Should I find another rider? Everyone’s trying to push back the wyverns but—”

My head lolled against Varidian’s shoulder. I tugged on my eyelids, trying to get them to open. “I have magic,” I whispered.

“You don’t have strength to spare, dearling,” Varidian argued, his tone hard despite the term of endearment.

“I can… do it,” I rasped, my brow furrowing as a wave of dizziness hit. Oh, the poison was bad. I lifted my hand, grunting when my heavy arm dragged it back to Mak’s back. I swore, or grunted, or maybe the sound was just in my head. Raheema’s fierce shriek made my ears hurt, but the meaning of it warmed my heart and gave me enough strength to lift my hand an inch, then another.

She can do it. Let her do it,Raheema cried.

“Forgive me if I don’t trust you with my wife’s safety,” Varidian bit out, his voice both sharp and quiet.

He’s weakening,I tried to tell Raheema.He’s snapping because he’s afraid.

Shit, that was true. He was afraid—afraid we wouldn’t get the shields back up, that we’d be overrun by a hundred wyverns, that our home would be demolished and we’d be left flying over rubble and ashes. Or maybe that we’d be dead. His fear lifted my hand another few inches. I locked my jaw against a scream as pain tore through my thigh, breathing fast through my nose, cracking my eyes open.

My fingertips hovered by the dome, so close I only needed an extra push to touch the gilded stone. I strained, breathing faster, sweat dripping off the end of my nose. Exhaustion pressed down on me, crushing my chest, threatening to close my eyes again. My breath hitched when Varidian’s fingers encircled my wrist, warm and comforting, and then my palm was flat to the dome, the stone cold and rough against my skin.

I didn’t know how to summon my dark power, didn’t know where it lurked within my body or where to reach for it, but any fears were blast apart when the second I touched the dome, my magic reacted to Varidian’s.

He hissed a curse, tightening his arm around me as magic whooshed across the stone like a match thrown on tinder, catching and spreading—power, heat, and fury. It was my anger, my rage at these wyverns invading my home, making my husband afraid, ripping open my thigh, infecting me with iron, hurting more people, more children.

Enough, my soul snarled, teeth bared, and as if it was that simple the maelstrom of magic gathering around us caved to my wishes. I felt the fire warp, its fire shift and change, felt my purpose sink into the storm of magic Varidian had built around the dome and then—

“They’re falling,” he breathed in horror or awe. “The wyverns are falling from the sky. Ameirah… you… you killed them all.”

My eyes fell shut again, my arm too heavy to hold up my hand. I’d killed a hundred wyverns, and I couldn’t bear to think about what that said about me, what that made me.

“What a wonder you are,” Varidian murmured, kissing the top of my head. “You saved us all, dearling.”

I killed them and… I saved us. Saved everyone in Red Manniston, my magic joining Varidian’s to make a lethal shield. And I knew what that made me—not evil, not a monster or anything else my father said I was. It didn’t make me perfect or good either. Just a fae, capable of both. Capable of murder without mercy, but also of compassion and good intentions and the odd bout of reckless heroism.

“I saved us,” I sighed, letting my hand fall away, my head growing heavy on Varidian’s shoulder.

“Ameirah,” he said urgently. “Don’t go to sleep, stay with me.”

But I’d only held on because we were in danger and Varidian needed me. Now the shields were up, unconsciousness came for me, and I greeted it with relief. The pain swept away, the burnof poison, the exhaustion… all of it faded under a blanket of blackness.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

AMEIRAH

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