“For fuck’s sake, that’senough,Leona!” Cedric slammed his fist on the table. “Stop antagonizing every stars-damned champion that’s left. We’ve all been through it today. We don’t know what’s ahead. Fighting amongst ourselves won’t get any of us closer to the crown.”
“Maybe not. But if it keeps it out oftheirhands, it’ll still be worth it,” Leona said. “You may have gone soft as shit on these magic-hoarding cretins, but not all of us are so quick to forget our roots,Sir Thorne.”
With a huff, she turned to face Belien, content enough with having gotten the last word to end the conversation.
Belien, as it turned out, was not.
“Fairy fucker,” he muttered, distinctlynotunder his breath. “All his morals tossed in the gutter for a soft piece of fae ass.”
In a flash, Cedric was on his feet. He reached for his token before he could stop himself, heat flaring in his chest. He’d teach Belien to watch his words, to think twice before acting this way again. Even if it meant breaking whatever nebulous, unspoken truce the champions had been operating under thus far. He would pay the price, if it meant Belien paid one too.
Turns out, it didn’t matter.
Because before Cedric could activate a single spark of his magic, a tendril of shadow had shot out from Elyria’s outstretched hand and wrapped around Belien’s neck.
Zephyr gasped. Leona screamed.
“What was that you said?” Elyria’s voice was a gilded dagger—beautiful and deadly. “Not sure I heard you correctly.”
Belien clawed at the shadow with both hands, straining for breath.
Cedric’s stomach turned as he watched Elyria’s magic coil around Belien’s neck. He had heard tales of the power of the Revenant, of course. Spent night after night imagining it, dreaming of what it would be like to face it. To face her. To bleed her power from her, watch the light drain from her eyes, his parents’ deaths avenged.
Seeing her wield it now was everything and nothing like he imagined.
It was so dark. So devastating. So breathtaking.
So similar to the power he had just watched tear his mother into pieces.
“Nightwielder.” Nox’s red-black eyes were locked on Elyria. Their voice was a reverent whisper, barely audible over Leona’s screams and Belien’s labored wheezing.
Kit stared at Elyria too, her mouth agape. Like this was the first time she was truly seeing her friend.
The shadow cinched tighter. Belien’s face started turning purple.
That golden thread in Cedric’s chest propelled him forward until he stood beside Elyria. Her body shook, though whether from the strain of using this dark magic, or fromrestrainingherself from using more of it, he didn’t know.
“Elyria,” he murmured into her ear, his voice low. “That’s enough.”
She didn’t react.
He lifted his hand. Paused. Drew it back. Then, with as gentle a touch as he could manage, he placed two fingers on the side of her chin and turned her face toward him.
Magic sparked where their skin met, sending a shock zipping through Cedric. Elyria too, from the sudden way her arm fell, her shadow dissipating into nothing.
Belien was on the ground, wheezing, gasping, crying as Leona fussed at his side. Cedric barely heard them. Not as emerald eyes bore into his, mere inches apart, his hand still on her face.
“Yes, that is enough,” came the Arbiter’s voice.
Cedric dropped his hand.
And everything stopped.
26
RECOMPENSE
ELYRIA
