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Holding her hand in his, he’d never uttered a word. Never tried to communicate telepathically. His presence was enough. It always would be.
And then he was simplygone.
Silvan cradled her now, kissing her hairline. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah… a little beat up.” She searched for evidence that Bastian was still around, still watching. He would be in the shadows, imperceptible to most preternaturals. But not to Romy. “You made it?”
“Wolves are a hell of a lot more slippery than people. They can weasel their way out of just about anything.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Sil.” She winced and rolled her mended ankle. “Whatarethose things?”
He grimaced. “I don’t know, princess, but when I stepped on that field, I triggered every single fucking one on the island.”
“Shit. Any idea how we get out of here?”
“Got one in my head, but you’re gonna flip…” Silvan helped her stand and looked her over. “You sure you’re not hurt?”
“Nothing too serious.” Thanks to Bastian, her ankle was tender but not the searing pain from before his gentle ministrations. “Now, what’s the plan?”
His smile was knife-sharp and devious. Also sexy. Everything about him was sexy, including the fact that he was nude and hard as a rock. “You’re gonna blast them to hell, Ro.”
“Excuse me? Say that again.” He had to be joking.
“I said, my little fire witch, you’re gonna blast those things to hell…” He caressed her shoulder and sparks shot from her fingertips.
“I’m not a fire witch,” she insisted.
“Tell it to the pretty purple sparks, princess.”
“I can’t so much as move a pen across the room, Silvan. Tonight’s little flares are just smoke and mirror magic—not my candescence.” Right? Had to be. Romy wouldn’t get her hopes up for something that might or might not happen. Thora was closer to activation than she was.
“Have youtried?”
“Well… no.”
“Try,” he pleaded. “For me?”
Even though it was a stupid idea, the dumbest yet, Romy couldn’t refuse him. She groaned and closed her eyes, visualizing an inferno and the diverse colors within. Orange. Gold. Red. Finally, she isolated the purple spark. A violet flame, burning hotter and brighter than any of the others. This washerflame. Her fire.
Could this be real? Had her powers finally materialized?
Despite the predicament with Thora, or perhaps because of it, she’d felt more alive in the past few days than she’d ever felt in her life. Romy assumed Silvan and Bastian had been the catalyst, and maybe they were a part of it, but the more she entertained the possibility of blasting those cursed monsters to hell, the easier it was to manifest the flame.
“Holy shit. Look, Romy! Smoke and mirrors, my ass, girl. ”
Her eyes opened, fixated on the flare hovering above them. Silvan was right. She’d done it. Romy had finally reached her candescence. Fearful for the moment to pass, she turned to Silvan. “We have to do it right now. I don’t know how to control this, but I don’t want it going anywhere.”
“It’s not, princess. This is a part of your gift. But you’re right. It’s time we get the fuck off this island. Follow the big sexy wolf.”
As Silvan shifted, Romy could sense his strength, the brute force, the survival instinct, linking to the fire deep within her. Bastian's power joined them somewhere nearby, somewhere no one could see.
She guessed Silvan wouldnotlike that part if he knew.
Quicker than anticipated, they scaled the ravine’s incline, but she was unprepared for the horde of creatures surrounding them. Silvan wasn’t kidding when he said he’d activated the monstrosities. Relying on the reflexes she didn’t know she had, heat gathered in her core and spilled out her fingertips. Blasts of purple light disintegrated most of their adversaries into dust, and Silvan finished off the stragglers.
But the creatures—whatever they were—were healing. Their mottled, gray flesh and black blood regenerated as they watched in horror. Confusion pooled in Silvan’s wild eyes. He signaled to Romy, changing course, and they dashed for the shore.
When they clambered into the boat, thousands of branka launched an aerial raid, targeting Romy. They seemed to know she posed the greater threat. If simpleminded bugs had enough cognitive function to attack as a unit, how much more could those humanoid monsters accomplish if given a chance?
