Page 86 of Property of Scar

She doesn’t let go. Her fingers curl as though she’s gripping something solid, something resisting her, and the threads respond instantly, tightening in answer, dragging whatever she’s found closer to the surface. The Court reacts to that pressure, branches straining, stone shifting subtly underfoot, the air thickening as if the entire structure is pushing back against what she’s doing.

Raze moves before anyone else can.

He’s at her side in a blink, his hand catching her arm, trying to pull her out of it, but she shakes him off with a force that has nothing to do with strength and everything to do with refusal. Her focus snaps to him for a fraction of a second, eyes sharp despite the strain already pulling at her.

“I’m close,” she forces out, the words tight, dragged through the effort of holding whatever she has hold of. “Don’t…”

The rest is lost as the threads surge again, brighter now, harsher, no longer subtle as they flare through the Court in cutting lines of light, dragging something upward that doesn’t want to be found.

Her knee hits the ground. Hard enough that the impact cracks through the stone beneath her, but she doesn’t break the connection, her hand still locked in place, her entire body braced against something that is actively trying to tear free.

“Fuck!” Raze swears under his breath, reaching for her again, more force behind it this time. “That’s enough—”

“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, sharper now, her voice shaking, not with fear but with strain, with the sheer effort of holding onto something that is fighting her every second. “I’ve got it… just—”

The threads flare brighter again, blazing now, no longer delicate, no longer controlled in the way they were before, as they cut through the Court’s magic and lock onto something that resists with equal force. I can feel the pushback in the air, a pressure building fast, sharp, and unstable, as whatever she’s found fights to stay where it is.

And then Titania rises.

The movement isn’t dramatic, but the entire room responds to it, the space tightening, attention snapping toward her as her composure fractures just enough to reveal something underneath it.

“Yes,” she says, the word carrying through the Court with a sharpness that wasn’t there before, something almost electric threading through it. “I can feel it.” Her gaze locks onto Roxy, intent, unyielding. “Don’t stop, little witch.”

Roxy doesn’t hesitate. Whatever control she has left, she pushes it forward, driving into the resistance, and the backlash hits her immediately. Her body jerks hard enough that it would have dropped anyone else, her second knee hitting the ground as she leans into it instead of away, refusing to give it ground.

Raze doesn’t have that control.

“Roxy, stop!” The words tear out of Raze, and his power follows, surging in both directions at once, frost racing outward from his feet in sharp, crystalline fractures that split the stone, while heat flares across his skin in uneven bursts of fire. The two forces collide around him, pushing outward in a way that draws immediate attention.

The Seelie guards move as one.

They step in front of their queen without hesitation, staffs drawn, bodies forming a barrier between her and Raze, their focus locked entirely on him now, ready to respond if he crosses a line he can’t step back from.

I don’t give them the chance.

I step into Raze’s space, closing the distance fast, my hand catching his shoulder with enough force to ground him, to interrupt the spiral before it tips my hand burning against the flames.

“Raze.”

He doesn’t hear it.

His focus is locked on Roxy, panic and fury bleeding through every line of him as the frost spreads further and the fire burns hotter.

“Raze!” I tighten my grip, force the contact to mean something even through the ice and fire burning my skin. “Look at me!”

It takes a second, longer than I’d like, but his gaze snaps to mine, just enough, just barely, and I hold it there.

“She’s still in control,” I tell him, low and steady, cutting through everything else. “Don’t break it.”

His jaw tightens, the tension in him coiling instead of snapping, the frost slowing, the fire stuttering, not gone but contained enough to keep the room from igniting into something worse.

Behind us, Cali is already moving.

She drops to her knees beside Roxy, close enough to anchor her without pulling her away, her hand closing around Roxy’s arm, grounding her in something physical, something real.

“Hey,” Cali says, her voice steady despite everything happening around us. “You’ve got this.”

Roxy’s head dips slightly, the smallest flicker of awareness cutting through the strain before her focus locks back in, tighter than before.