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“Do not say something you will regret, Boraleashe,” Theodor warned instead. He was furious at Biorn for putting him in this situation and annoyed with Boraleashe for not being able to listen to reason.
Boraleashe’s snowy hair whipped violently around his face when he called on another gust of painful arctic wind that pinned Biorn to the door.
“Release him!” Theodor commanded, the ice against his chest stabbing him even deeper. He used his autumn heat to melt the ice over his body and the snow in his chambers, but it only made Boraleashe send for more.
If Theodor was experiencing muted pain from the storm that Boraleashe raged, he was positive Biorn had to feel as if he was being choked by death itself.
“Guards,” Biorn attempted. He’d stopped shivering, but his limbs appeared heavy and useless at his sides, his half-lidded eyes rolling to the back of his head. He was suffering from hypothermia, and if Theodor didn’t do something fast, he’d soon have a dead body in his chamber to account for. “My king, please… help me.”
Jealousy was all over Boraleashe’s face. He leveled his murderous gaze on Biorn, on the man who was now on his hands and knees, covered in icy sleet and crawling in his direction.
Boraleashe began to roll his hands one over the other, causing even colder air to veil the room like an evil spell, and no matter how much warmth Theodor called forward, his calming winds were immediately doused by Boraleashe’s avalanches of fury.
He had Biorn in his line of sight, continuing to rotate his hands around, forming a massive ball of northern energy, a formidable weapon that was already powerful enough to blast a hole clear through Biorn’s chest. Sure, it was his own fault he was in this situation—Biorn should not have been in his chambers—but it wasn’t a mistake he should die for.
Boraleashe reared back, preparing to throw the deadly frost in Biorn’s direction, when Theodor kicked into action. “Resta strixix viratorpus,” he chanted, then braced himself for the blast from the spell Mozraath had given him for dangerous situations.
The fire of Hades came fast and ferociously, causing the floor to tremble. The flames licked up the sides of the walls, merged into a blaze of rage, then flew toward Boraleashe, knocking him backward. The thick blocks of ice that had formed and sealed the room melted and boiled around his feet.
Biorn slumped to the floor, his face dripping with perspiration while he struggled to take a breath.
Theodor’s heartbeat accelerated as he watched Boraleashe climb back to his feet in slow motion, his angry glare locked on the orange glow still clinging to Theodor’s hands and forearms.
“How did you do that?” Boraleashe’s voice was sharp enough to slice like a blade. He was asking how, but Theodor knew that wasn’t what he meant. Boraleashe’s defeated stance was asking him why he’d fought against him… and not for him.
Theodor shook his hands out, trying to release the demonic energy surging through his fingertips. Dread and fear coiled in his chest when he saw the hurt, betrayal, and agony etched across Boraleashe’s beautiful face before he turned and bolted for the balcony.
“No, Boraleashe, wait! Don’t—” Theodor yelled. But it was too late.
Boraleashe was already in the sky.
Fuck!
Theodor
It’s His Loss
“Theo, Theo!” Mozraath rushed into his bedchambers with about thirty guards, who were all five minutes too late. “What the hell happened?” His friend lowered his mismatched gaze to Biorn’s tormented state, then to the destruction that could only be caused by two titans of elements. Without much thought, Mozraath muttered solemnly, “Boraleashe.”
Theodor was standing just inside the door of his balcony while Biorn continued to groan and curl into the fetal position on the floor. “Have him taken to the healers immediately.”
Mozraath directed a few servants to help heft Biorn to his feet.
“And I want the guards assigned to my door relieved of their positions immediately,” Theodor barked. He walked outside, gazing up at nothing in the sky.
Biorn should’ve never been allowed into his quarters, especially his bedchambers. He could be deep inside Boraleashe right now if he had more competent staff.
“Have you gone mad?” Mozraath seethed, gripping both of Theodor’s wrists and flipping his hands front and back in his, checking him for burns. “You could’ve hurt yourself, Theo. You could’ve burned down the entire palace. Or the whole realm!”
“Don’t exaggerate, Moz. You taught me well.”
Theodor continued to stare into the sky, but he knew Boraleashe wasn’t coming back. Still, he watched, hoping to catch a glimpse of white light amongst the darkness.
More rushed footsteps pounded outside the hall of his quarters. “Is the entire kingdom going to come to witness my humiliation?” Theodor snapped.
“Are you serious?” Mozraath gaped. “You just summoned hellfire! It might have felt like a ripple to you and Boraleashe, but for everyone else, it felt like Fhomhair was under attack.”
