Page 114 of Blade of the Nightking

The air around him crackled with restrained power. It pressed against my burning skin like the charged stillness before a lightning strike, the fine hairs along my arms lifting beneath the force of it. His magic filled the room instantly—vast and suffocating and leashed so tightly it made mine feel rabid in comparison.

Mine was chaos.

His was a blade.

I wanted to throw my power directly at him. Burn him where he stood. End him once and for all.

My magic reared beneath my will like a panicked horse. If he died… then I died. And Aedric⁠—

Aedric.

Emotion crashed back into me so hard I nearly staggered.

Terror. Fear. Grief.

They slammed through me all at once, feeding the fire already raging beneath my skin. Flames licked wildly across my hands and wrists, sputtering over my skin as the magic inside me continued building and building, too large now, too furious to contain. My blood felt like molten metal inside me.

“Out,” Rìan barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off me. “Now.”

“Rìan—” Segolayne started.

“Now.”

She dashed to the door.

Then we were alone.

My breaths were ragged now, almost gasps. Heat clawed through my veins so ferociously I thought it might consume me from the inside out. I tried to force the magic down. Tried to shove it back into whatever dark place it had erupted from. But it wouldn’t obey me.

Rìan took one slow step closer.

Panic surged through me. I threw the magic to one side instinctively. Flame exploded into another towering mirror, glass shattering across the room.

He stood directly before me, towering over me, his eyes locked onto mine while fire writhed across my skin.

“Breathe,” he commanded.

I couldn’t.

My chest felt too tight. Too hot. Like my lungs themselves were burning alive.

“Breathe.”

His nostrils flared slightly as he drew in one slow, deliberate breath before releasing it. I forced myself to copy him. The exhale that left me carried smoke with it.

“Again,” he said. “Breathe.”

So I did.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I clung desperately to the rhythm of my breaths, focusing on the cool path of air moving through my burning body instead of the memories threatening to consume me. Slowly, piece by piece, I pushed away the image of my father collapsing into the snow. Aedric's blank stare.

With each breath, the magic weakened.