It wasn’t just her strength that was being taken; it washer, the very essence of who she was.
The essence of Kaelypso.
Even as her vision blurred she could see the glow clinging to Naserysa’s form as her power seeped into her.
She could faintly hear Draevyn’s desperate screams for her, begging her to get up, pleading with her to fight back andlive.
Esmyra’s jaw locked against a scream, but the terror in her chest was undeniably real.
“I won’t let her win,” she whispered to Kaelypso as she forced her mind to anchor, shoving the panic back.
She pushed herself up, every muscle screaming in protest from the loss of power. Her knees nearly buckled, but fury braced her spine.
With a gut-wrenching scream, she threw her arms wide as power detonated out of her in a blinding surge. There was nothing controlled or precise about it. Esmyra had become a storm breaking loose. It ripped through the chamber, colliding with stone, fire, and flesh alike. The shockwave slammed intoeveryone—the guards, her crew, and her sister—hurling them in all directions with bone-shattering force.
For a heartbeat, the silence that followed was filled only with the crackle of fading sparks and the ragged pounding of her heart.
Esmyra’s vision was edged in white, but there was a savage satisfaction burning in her veins as she stood in the center of it all, glowing in the light of the crimson moon.
CHAPTER 69
Draevyn
The blast sent Draevyn flying back into a pillar, the force of the impact cracking the stone. His lungs were burning, ribs aching, but as he was finally able to open his eyes and focus through the haze, it was the sight before him that stole the air from his chest.
Esmyra stood at the center of the ruin she’d created, power still rippling off her that made the castle groan and splinter. Midnight and silver hair whipped around her like a living flame, her glowing eyes fixed on her sister with a fury that could tear the world in two.
Draevyn forced himself to his feet, his body trembling, not from the pain, but from what he’d just witnessed and the unknown of what would follow. He’d seen her wield unbelievable levels of magic before, but this was something else entirely. This was her power unleashed, raw and unchecked, in something both divine and all consuming.
And it terrified him.
Not because he fearedher. He could never fear his Wildfire. What terrified him was what it wascostingher.
The look in her eyes, the way her chest heaved, the faint tremor in her hands… she was burning herself hollow. Esmyra was giving everything she had to protect them, and he didn’t know if she could withstand it. Didn’t know ifanyonecould even survive it.
Draevyn’s fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. He needed to reach her, desperate to drag her out of this madness, but the truth clawed at him, gripping and shredding his heart with invisible talons. And that truth was that this wasn’t a battle he could fight for her. All he could do was stand with her, bleed alongside her, and pray to every force beyond their world she didn’t destroy herself in the process.
The clash between Esmyra and Naerysa continued to shake the throne room as the wrath of gods consumed them. The very air split with the violence of it, pressure tearing outward until the domed ceiling above them shattered like glass. Stone and crystal rained down on them all, scattering across the floor as the skies opened to their fury, the Blood Moon nearly at its peak.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Movement drew his attention to the far side of the room and that was when he found his brother. Atlas had broken from the fight, sprinting across the wreckage toward the far wall. Elowynne still hung there, chained and trembling, her wrists raw where iron dug into her skin. Atlas’s roar echoed off the shattered walls as his shadows dove into the locks.
But then something else shifted at the edge of his vision.
Out of the corner of the chamber, Azarian crawled along the fractured marble. Draevyn couldn’t believe the bastard was still alive. His face appeared half-burned, armor dented and smeared with blood as his black eyes gleamed with the kind of devotion only madness could breed. He pushed himself to his feet, drawing his spear as his focus locked on Atlas’s exposed back.
The sight made Draevyn’s throat tighten. His brother was seconds away from freeing Elowynne, but he couldn’t see the reaper aiming for him with his attention locked on those chains.
Draevyn’s hand snapped up, flame roaring from his palm in a searing stream meant to engulf Azarian where he stood. The blaze howled across the wreckage, scorching the air before striking his chest, but the fire immediately fizzled out to nothing but embers.
Draevyn’s eyes widened as Azarian’s armor shimmered faintly, swallowing the blaze into itself—just as the cave’s rocks guardingMaerinys had when they locked him out. The light of his flames rippled across the scale-like armor, its heat vanishing.
The ugly fuck only smiled, his face twisting into something grotesque as he leveled the blade of his spear once more and stepped forward.
Draevyn cursed under his breath, fire dancing along his knuckles.
Fine. If the bastard thought his armor would save him, then he would tear through it with his bare hands if he had to. Azarian crept closer, blade lifting for the strike, and Draevyn’s fury kindled into something sharp and merciless.
