Page 301 of Emylia

But it didn’t.

It fed me.

Made me stronger.

Wilder.

The stench of burning cloth clawed down my throat, tearing tears from my eyes. My clothes were gone, scorched away. My humanity was gone too.

The price of my power?

My soul.

The magik tore through me, feeding on me, gorging on everything that was still human.

And I—I let it.

A blade of ice snapped into my palm. I hurled it—felt it skewer bodies like they were made of air, made of nothing—I watched them fall.

The power was vindictive and unapologetic.

The last seven enemies didn't even scream.

The water rose up and swallowed them whole.

Still—it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

I needed blood.

I needed screams.

I needed the world to burn.

A fissure tore open inside me—deeper than bone—deeper than soul.

“Emylia, they're dead!” Maalikai’s voice slammed into me.

I didn’t care.

“If you don't stop, you'll die!”

Let the power claim me. I didn’t care anymore.

“Let it!” I growled—or maybe I screamed it—the words weren't mine anymore.

Nothing was.

"I refuse to lose you!" He sounded broken.

Fractured.

Something sacred shattering.

But it wasn’t enough.

The sea roared to one side. The trees screamed on the other. I threw my head back, laughing—sobbing—some horrible mixture of both.

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