Page 65 of A Reign of Malice
Elyn doesn’t falter under the scrutiny. She meets Isla’sglare with unshaken calm, her posture as steady as the goddess beside her.
“I’ll be the anchor for Aurora,” she says simply. “What she’s doing for you is beyond reason. It’s a risk to her power. A big one. I told her she shouldn’t go through with this, but our goddess does as she wishes.” Her violet eyes flicker with firmness. “Something you’d do well to remember as you stand here judging her.”
Another stretch of silence. Then, Isla exhales, low and slow. “How can we help?”
Aurora smirks. “Funny you should ask.” Her attention flicks toward me and Sloane, eyes glittering with mischief. “The two of you will be in charge of restraining her.”
Sloane stiffens beside me. “Excuse me?”
Aurora gestures toward Isla. “If she interrupts my process, you’re all as good as dead.”
A growl tears from Asher’s throat. “I don’t really think threats are necessary.”
The goddess lets out a resounding chuckle, one that lacks its usual edge of amusement. “Oh, darling. That’s not a threat. You have no clue what I have to do next.” Her expression hardens, and the air around her thrums with something deeper, something primordial.
“Here’s an idea,” she purrs. “How about everyone just does their best not to piss me off while I do this and then we can all go our separate ways and never suffer one another’s company again?” Her smirk grows as her still-golden eyes glow. “Sound fair?”
Nobody says anything, no objections or agreements, but that doesn’t seem to matter to the goddess.
A deep pulsing spreads around us. The room is heavier now, charged with something unseen but potent enough to make my wolf stir.
Aurora steps forward, her bright aura stretching outward, the dim light of her home bending toward her as if the entire house breathes in anticipation. Elyn follows, her movements fluid, almost eerily calm, like she’s done this before.
Still, no one speaks as Aurora stops before Estee’s and Theo’s covered bodies.
“This is your last warning,” she murmurs, her voice almost too eager. “What comes next isn’t gentle or kind in any way.”
The truth of her words settles over us. Isla flinches but doesn’t look away. Asher’s grip on her shoulder tightens, his knuckles paling.
Sloane shifts closer to me, her body rigid, and even though neither of us speaks, I feel her tension in the mate bond.
Aurora lifts her hands, and the entire room changes, the floor vibrating.
A golden light snakes through, creating cracks in the pristine white stone beneath our feet, branching out like veins in a living body. A gust of wind swirls and power crackles, hot and electric, lifting Aurora’s hair from her shoulders in long waves of liquid fire.
She breathes out, slow and measured, then moves her hands in deliberate, circular motions, her fingers glowing at the tips, leaving behind trails of golden embers in the air. The runes on her skin ignite, spreading like molten metal along her arms, glowing brighter until the very air trembles beneath the weight of her magic.
And then the first sound breaks through the room.
A deep, resonant hum, low and elemental, like the voice of something long forgotten that’s stirring awake.
It echoes through the walls, rattling the very bones in my body, sending a pulse of energy into my chest. Sloaneinhales, clutching my wrist as the tune deepens, vibrating through the floor.
Then Aurora slams her hands against Estee’s and Theo’s chests, kneeling over them with her head bowed.
A violent blast of energy explodes outward, so fierce that my vision whites out.
Sloane stumbles against me, Isla lets out a strangled cry, but none of us move. We can’t.
When I can see again, my eyes focus on the golden light seeping into Estee’s and Theo’s bodies. The magic burrows beneath their skin, tracing their veins like liquid fire. Their bodies jerk—once, twice, each more violently than the last.
Elyn steps in then.
She settles herself next to Aurora, her white hair glowing like an electric charge, eyes dark with something deeper than power. She presses a palm to the goddess’s back, steadying her, anchoring her.
A new color seeps into the magic swirling around us, a deep, rich violet, likely Elyn’s magic. It wraps around Aurora’s, tightening the golden tendrils as if holding them in place, keeping the balance as the goddess works.
The runes on Aurora’s skin darken, shifting, twisting into new shapes, something older, rawer, dangerous.
