Page 236 of Season Warriors & Wolves

Open entirely.

And so it did.

Every inch of my skin turned a glowing white, bones, blood and whatever soul I had left turned into pure lightning. I felt the power hum against my bones and sing to my blood, a melody of drenching power—a melody of destruction.

Power slipped through my fingers and it surged out of me uncontrollably. And just before all sense of control began to disappear, my lips formed the words, “Hur ma’hazur kahaz.”

Aurora’s eyes were wide. “No—”

“Yes.”

Ice blasted all around us and Kilian’s shadows and darkness blew into the wind that howled uncontrollably, dissipating and screaming almost in agony, crawling back into their master. The dome peeled back, lowering to reveal the battlefield around us.

Aurora’s head hung low, a hand over her chest, her power flailing and her form freezing into a sculpture of ice which then vanished like fog.

Hur ma’hazur kahaz, the voices in the wind echoed.

When all signature and scent of her magic disappeared as if it had never even been summed, I breathed out a shaky exhale of relief and fell to the ground, struggling to contain what spilled from my fingers.

Power.

So much of it.

Too much of it.

The seal had broken entirely. The seal I’d had since the day I’d been born.

I had become what the realm had always feared. What the prophecy had sung since before my birth.

I had become it.

And I would end it.

The hand to push a blade through my heart had been mine.

So…I had not stopped it. The fate I thought I no longer deserved.

“Snow?” his voice called, and my eyes drew shut, failing to hold back the tears that spilled down my cheeks. The fate I wanted, needed and begged for, called my name with such desperation that I dared doubt one last time.

So little time.

Always so little time for me and him.

A slow curtain fell over my eyes, beginning to overtake my sight. My voice died entirely at the call of his name, “Kil.”

Chapter fifty-three

White Rook takes D8

Kilian

Silence followed like the collapse of dominoes, then it turned so loud it began echoing along the battlefield. No one moved. Not a soul, Isjordian or Adriatian. Aurora had disappeared back into the sceptre, Demir had the soul killer nailed in his chest, laying defeated on the ground.

But it wasn’t him or their disappearing weapon everyone was looking at.

They were looking at her.

And the skies.