Blood filled my mouth as every bone in my body shattered. I would heal in a matter of moments, but first my physical body would be destroyed by the collision.
I accepted it with ire.
To be made whole again, I first had to submit to the pain.
A hiss left my deflated lungs as the stone exploded around me into walls of Hellfire, then settled into dust that filtered through the air. My palace would only be partially decimated by my fall.
The Hellfire was from the power of my Source. It would remain eternal.
Just like me.
My bones re-formed in seconds that felt like hours, working to pull all of my organs back into shape as my body knit itself together again.
How the fuck did this happen?I wondered as I stared up at a statue that was miraculously unharmed. The stone displayed my prone form on the ground, lifelike with gold threads through red marble. Its depiction was one of agony, of my fall and the horror I had endured.
The pain had not been purely physical, despite the evidence of bloody slashes down the statue’s back.
It had been an emotional wound, one that had never healed.
Now, I’d landed at the entrance to my personal wing, specifically where the impact of my original fall kept the stone warm.
The molten material had been the foundation of this entire realm. I’d built it up from dirt and dust, forging a new world where others rejected by those they trusted could seek refuge.
Molten hatred andresolve—that was what my realm had been based on.
No one will reject you here.
It was what the statue was made of. The ground underneath me went on for miles, and I’d built my palace around it. The broken balcony overlooked a city that I had grown from nothing but desperation and pain.
But now I felt like I was being reborn all over again. That day I had fallen, I had lost everything.
This time, I wasn’t the one who had made the sacrifice.
Camillia had.
Where is she?As I curled my fingers into the molten rock solidifying around my form, I crawled to my hands and knees.
Everywhere.
My nostrils flared as I drew in her scent of decadent roses, this time with a tinge of ambrosia and fire.
A mixture of Melek and me.
It was an intoxicating combination, one that settled a craving deep within my soul that felt strangely whole.
I hadn’t felt like this since… before.
Before Camillia De la Croix.
Because she gave it back.
All this time she had been stealing my Source, but now I was certain it hadn’t been on purpose.
Someone had been using her ability to siphon my power, but she’d figured it out the same moment I had.
And she had fought back.
Just like I would expect of a future queen.
