Page 162 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Ignoring the pleas of untrained fae—most as powerless as she without fire or mind magic—she prioritized those who had no magic at all.
The chains seized her, manacles of shadow clamping around her wrists.
They burned cold against her skin. Welts bubbled beneath the pressure, her body trying to reject the inherent evil of their magic. Scarlet eyes locked onto hers, endless shadow gaping behind them. It was the last thing she saw before plunging into the worst kind of hell.
Starfall. Memories surged back, graphic and unrelenting. Flames roared to life around her. Screams of those she loved split the air. Desperate pleas for help. The smell of roasted flesh. She saw herself, small and powerless, huddled in a corner, watching in horror as everything she loved was consumed by fire.
From ashes to flames.
Pain at her wrists intensified, twisting the vision to blackness. A creature of the deepest night promised to find her again. The taunt: no matter where she went, he would find her. She would never know peace or serenity.
She jerked against the chains.
Fear, agony, and terror cycled endlessly until they felt like the only things she had ever known.Flames, darkness, pain.
She, too, would be swallowed by the fire that had disintegrated everything she’d ever cherished. And in the end, she thought, perhaps it would be easier to let the flames take her too.
Slowly, the will to fight slipped out of her like the last strains of a melody drifting into stillness, fading into deafening silence.
It was endless. All-consuming.
Until a glorious warmth enveloped her, like stepping into the sun, promising the pain was almost over. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the blazing light that pierced the darkness of her memories.
“Now,” a voice spoke into her mind, wrapping the warmth more firmly around her.
With a guttural scream, summoning every shred of strength she had left, Alaire pushed back against the chains. The shadows of Umbra’s wraiths fought viciously, dragging each painful memory to the surface to reinforce their manacles. Alaire clung to the light with all she had, gritting her teeth as her knees cracked against the floor, glass biting her palms. Still, she pushed back.
Over and over.
Miraculously, they snapped. The power binding her was severed clean. The nightmares fractured around her.
Free of the spectral chains, Alaire braced herself on her hands, body heaving, the ghost of their icy grip skittering across her skin. When the tremors subsided, she opened her eyes.
Alaire froze. She blinked, sure it was an illusion induced by exhaustion. A bubble of crimson light surrounded her, pulsating like a heartbeat. It painted everything in deep red hues.
Hope flared. Could it be her magic?
Her gaze dropped to the ruby she’d forgotten was on her finger. The band burned hot against her skin, radiating energy like trapped sunlight—her mother’s ring.
The ruby glowed brighter in response. A Vallorian heirloom that only answered to her.
She rose unsteadily, limbs quaking. The crimson light followed, surrounding her like armor.
Awe washed through her. The ring had protected her. Saved her from their chains.
The wraith recoiled, its form flickering. The light grew brighter, widening its reach.
Empowered, Alaire widened her stance and thrust her hand higher, letting the scarlet aura drench the air around her.Takethat, suckers. Somehow, she’d broken free—a feat she celebrated with a triumphant smile.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw two other humans rolling, trapped in their own torturous nightmares. She stepped toward them, her once-perfect gown now in tatters, the slit ripped higher up her thigh. Grime streaked her skin. Each movement burned with the drain of her exertion.
Once steady enough, she angled the red glow toward the wraiths.
“Kaia, get them behind me!”
Light from the ruby snapped the shadow shackles binding the two humans. One wraith’s mouth opened in a soundless cry of anguish. Enraged, the wraiths slammed against her shield again and again.
Alaire fought to keep her hand steady.
