Page 85 of Dark & Dreadful Brutes

“They’re enchanted, and part of the glacier’s magic. This land was originally a prison, so there are enchantments everywhere to keep it frozen and prevent crops from growing. We fight through it.” He looked out at the two other huge fae and their large weapons.

All three of them were men, but I assumed Ravv wasn’t concerned about them. He was certainly possessive enough to attempt to keep me away from anything he thought was a threat to either of us.

I did have two idorr by my sides though, and I’d have three to help protect me when the one carrying Ravv returned.

“You break the ice over and over again, every day?” I asked him, surprise coloring my voice.

Cree grunted again. “Our other option is to starve.”

I supposed I’d be willing to break ice every day if it was the only way to fill my belly. I certainly would’ve done it for food a thousand times over if given the opportunity when I was trapped in the cellar.

“Last I heard, you can’t control your flames,” the man said, his voice even.

Panic started to swell in my chest, and I ignored it fiercely as memories of the fire in my childhood home blossomed to life. “I’m learning.”

“You’re still young.” The man studied the river for another moment before calling out, “Pirr, trade places with Laeli.”

I blinked.

Already?

With no instructions?

I supposed he couldn’t give me instructions to help control my own magic. I’d have to figure that out on my own, if it was even possible.

When one of the fae stepped off the rock, I strode toward it like I wasn’t absolutely clueless.

I was absolutely clueless, though.

My heart beat erratically as I carefully placed one foot on the frozen rock. The pain in my handprint had vanished, at least. The surface was slick beneath the warmth of my bare foot.

I didn’t dare put my second foot on it, and instead lowered to my knees on the stone. Even that felt a bit slick.

I could feel the icy magic pooled in the stone, thrumming with life. It was as if someone’s life force had been embedded in the rock itself.

Where my magic touched it, the power seemed to recoil and shrink away.

I focused on my emotions—on my anger, frustration, and helplessness—and waited for my fire to ignite.

After a few moments, it burst to life beneath my palms, and the magic within the stone reacted immediately. The ice pulled back as my fire flooded the space, overwhelming the cold power.

I pushed harder, forcing the flames brighter and hotter until they met the icy magic and burned against the enchantment.

The ice fought back, hard and unyielding.

My fire burned on, and on, and on.

Some vague part of me sensed that the warring magic was draining my power, but I was too set on destroying the icy enchantment to pay any attention to the strain.

Finally, the ice started to melt.

I distantly felt a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead and face before sliding down the center of my chest.

There was a slight tremble to my hands.

I ignored that, too.

My stomach clenched as my determination wavered.

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