But no one hears me.
They’re all too busy surviving. Sira’s laughter echoes like shattered glass as Ezryn is thrown across the floor. Farron shields Dayton with his own body. Green magic coils around Caspian like a second skin, and he’s spinning too fast, too wild, his eyes green.
No one is listening.
And if I don’t find a way to break these crystals…
We’ll lose everything.
54
The Prince of Thorns
The Green Flame sings.
It coils around my spine, warm and alive, filling every weak space. I see. The truth, the future, the way.
Farron and Sira—what fools they are. Believing themselves powerful, important. But they’re nothing more than stepping stones. Pawns to the Baron. To my father.
And he’s coming.
Aurelia’s death will open the gate. With her last breath, the final tether will snap, and he’ll enter our world. The Enchanted Vale will burn, yes, but it’ll be ours. Father and son. Green fire across the sky, smoke rising from the bones of weak princes.
Sira’s purpose is complete. She was the match. Now it’s time she’s snuffed out.
I smile.
My father’s will pounds through me like a second heartbeat. His hatred for the traitor burns brighter than mine. Farron, the unworthy heir. The coward who turned away. We’ll start with Dayton, his precious Summer Prince. Make Farron hold him as he dies. Then the High Prince of Spring will fall.
Farron’s life will be last.
He will beg.
I raise my hand, and the flame leaps with me, vibrant and wild, casting emerald shadows across the cavern. My body feels endless. Limitless. There’s no fear anymore. No doubt. No love.
Only purpose.
Only fire.
And I am ready.
“And what of this one?” the Baron says in my mind but also from the flickering form. He’s almost here.
I follow his gaze.
Keldarion.
Charging, blades of ice glinting in either hand. His expression is carved from fury, but there’s something else under it, something I know all too well.
Grief.
“He too must die,” the Baron says.
Flames coil over my body, forming a ball in my hands, one to launch at the High Prince of Winter.
“No,” I yell, forcing myself out of the way, flames whooshing around me.
“Kill him,” my father commands.
