My body glowed, skin gold and red, the air around me shimmering with heat. I walked through the smoke, through the silence of their fear.
"What. The. Fuck," he gasped, stumbling back a step.
Not far enough.
I didn’t stop.
I reached for him. My fingers closed around his throat.
He convulsed the moment my skin met his. Fire leapt from me into his body. Flesh blackened beneath my hand. It bubbled and split, the stench of burning meat flooding the air.
His whole frame jerked violently, and a silent scream stretched across his face. Eyes rolled back as the flames crawled down his throat, devouring him from the inside out.
And I felt it.
I felt the moment the fire consumed him. The moment he took his last breath. The moment I became a murderer.
And then I felt the eyes of the other men, staring at me.
When I snapped my head in their direction, daring them to do anything but run for their lives, a wet stain spread across the crotch of one of them, trailing down his thighs.
I actually thought he might shit himself too.
The one who’d kicked the shit out of Aran backed away. Slowly. Hands raised, as if he didn’t deserve to die.
And the third one bolted. Just turned and ran for the trees without a sound. The others followed, tripping over each other., falling into the dark.
They wouldn’t dare come back.
And that fear, the way they looked at me like I was something monstrous, it healed something in me. That sense of safety I never thought I'd see again.
Because if men likethatwere scared of me...
What did I have to be afraid of?
And if being the monster meant Will and Aran lived, even if it took everything from me, it would be worth it.
The fire curling around me began to pull back. It pierced itself inward, slow and quiet, sinking beneath my skin. The air stilled. Only ash and faint embers remained. I stood there, shaking. It settled, and everything that happened came crushing down.
My arms were covered in blisters, raw and weeping, the skin red and pink and half-gone in places.
It hurt.
Everywhere.
But I was still standing.
I blinked through the haze. My vision blurred, but I could just make him out—Will.
He was sitting on the ground, legs splayed in the dirt like he’d fallen there. Blood dripped from his mouth, smeared down his chin. He was breathing fast.
But he was breathing. Relief surged through me, just enough to keep me upright.
Then I saw Aran.
He wasn’t moving.
Not a twitch.
