Page 183 of Sienna Rossi: Beyond Shattered Trust

The last time I saw that power, it nearly killed me.

I remember desperately unlocking my sigils one after another, using up all my stored powers just to survive her assault, whilst she stood there barely exerting herself. I remember her amusement, her confidence, the way she treated me like a child to play with.

This time it’s going to be different. I am not that girl anymore.

Blood erupts towards me in a crimson storm, thousands of razor-sharp projectiles raining from every direction at once. I thrust my hand forward, and my power answers.

Shadows burst from all around me to counter hers, rising into a tidal wave of darkness that consumes her attack entirely. The collision shakes the battlefield, blood and shadows tearing through one another with enough force to crack the frozen earth beneath our feet, and for the briefest moment, Velasara hesitates.

The shadows behind me twist and surge higher as my aura takes form, and she rises, wings spread, her enormous form unfolding against the storm whilst glowing red eyes settle upon Velasara.

“How exactly did you create that?” Velasara asks for a second. I see pure intrigue in her eyes.

I shrug. “Apparently, I had what it took within me all along.” My titan form steps forward, becoming one with me, with me at the centre, and I allow it to lift me up.

It was control; I was taught that in Gods’ Realm. My titan form is my armour.

Velasara can no longer see me as I stare out at her through my titan form, as I bring my fist down on the ground, causing it to tremble.

Blood circles around Velasara again, thicker than before, runes forming one after another around her body until the air itself begins to hum with power. I recognise several of them instantly. Draining spells. Binding spells. The same magic that forced me onto the defensive the last time we met.

The runes shoot towards me.

Be careful, Jayce’s voice, filled with worry, comes through the mind-link. He’s caught up in his own powerful battle.

I don’t move, but my titan does. She swings her fist, raising a shield of darkness as more dagger-like spears are aimed at me.

My power surges upwards and collides with the blood magic head-on, consuming some, shattering others and hurtling some right back in her direction.

Then she vanishes. One second, she’s standing several feet in front of me on the ground, and the next, she’s behind me.

She’s fast!

A blade of pure darkness mixed with blood magic slices towards my neck, and I twist aside, feeling it skim past my shoulder before it tears through the snow behind me, causing the rock beneath to explode. The ground trembles from beneath the force of the attack.

I don’t give her time to take advantage of the moment.

Shadows erupt from the ground and wrap around her leg, yanking her sideways before she can recover. She cuts through them instantly, but by then I’ve already moved. Turning, she raises a barrier, the wind whipping through our hair.

My titan’s enormous fist crashes into her barrier. The impact detonates across the battlefield. The ground trembles and piles of snow and ice collapse. I feel the dome pulse, feel the energy simmer in the air.

Velasara is forced backwards through the snow before she catches herself and manages to keep her balance as she stops.

Then we race towards one another once again, a blur of powerful blasts and swift reflexes.

For several seconds, neither of us gains ground.

Blood and shadows collide between us, tearing through the battlefield faster than the eye can follow. The difference is that this time I’m not desperately trying to survive her assault or burning through years’ worth of stored power just to stay standing. I’m matching her spell for spell, strike for strike, forcing her to work for every inch of ground she gains, and judging by the way her crimson eyes narrow with growing irritation, she knows it, too. I’m not using power for the sake of it; I’m using the bare minimum needed for each attack.

The realisation seems to anger her, and she begins chanting a spell.

And that’s perfect because I want her angry. I want her reckless. I want her making mistakes.

Blood gathers around Velasara again, even thicker than before, the dark magic rolling from her in waves as more runes appear around her body. Once again I recognise several of them instantly, but there are others woven amongst them now, and judging by the amount of power she’s feeding into them, she’s growing tired of this fight dragging on.

The dome pulses again, and I glance towards it; every second we waste here is another second lost.

Velasara thrusts both hands forward, and dark magic surges towards me, swallowing everything in its path as hundreds of runes spin within it. The sheer amount of power behind the attack is enough to make the air tremble, but instead of retreating, I step forward.