by Lexi C. Foss
The earth source brightened as I ripped the necklace from my neck and released the reins. Create and destroy. Create. And. Destroy.
Brighten it all.
Then burn it down.
Life.
And.
Death.
Welcome to my world. Prepare to bow.
STUNNING.
Aflora resembled a goddess, her power pouring out of her at an impressive rate, turning over tables and eliciting screams in her glorious wake.
Burning thwomps sprouted all over the ballroom, their charred limbs shooting toward the ceiling and releasing flames of monstrous proportions.
She screamed again as she sent their branches searching, spearing all those in their paths.
“Aflora!” Zephyrus shouted, his green eyes wild with concern. He’d ripped off his pin the moment he’d realized how he’d been used, his annoyance palpable. Now he resembled a disheveled guard, his dark hair wild and his eyes layered with unshed tears.
If anyone should understand Aflora’s reaction, it was him.
Yet he seemed hell-bent on stopping her show of power.
“Let her be,” I said, adoring this passionate display of temper. It was a literal dream to watch her let go, to use all that harnessed energy in vengeful glory.
Hmm, although, those who deserved the brunt of her explosion weren’t here. All the Councilmen and Elders were in another room. Except for Constantine.
It would do for now. He deserved this more than anyone.
However, his eyes were gleaming with approval as he met my gaze, his victorious smile giving me pause. Then, like a switch, that look dissolved into one of horror as he shoved away from the table, yelling, “Abomination!”
It took me two long seconds to realize his ploy, and to curse myself for not seeing it sooner.
“Everyone, run!” he screamed, his power igniting as he took on a defensive stance, the Warrior Bloods aligning with him. “Run!”
Fuck.
He was making an example of Aflora. Using her provoked display of power as a platform to stand on in his war against Quandary Bloods and abominations.
An alarming fact that came to fruition as whispers cascaded around the ballroom, the mounting terror feeding into his performance.
This was the real show.
And Aflora responded to her role in kind as flames engulfed all the exits, her emotions driving her reaction, not logic.
There were too many innocents in this room.
If she exploded now, she would never be fit to lead, even under a new regime. Everyone would fear her, realize Constantine was right to abolish those with too much power, and we would suffer another thousand or more years of this imposed segregation.
Destroying Constantine and the Council was what I’d always desired, and Aflora could absolutely accomplish that in this state.
But it wasn’t the right way.
Now wasn’t the right time.
It wouldn’t be on Constantine Nacht’s terms but on ours. I couldn’t afford for him to use her as a pawn like this, not after everything else he’d done.
He would not win. Not this round. Not ever.
I ripped my watch off and engaged my mental connection to my mate. Aflora. You need to calm down. This is what Constantine wants. He’s going to use this episode as a platform to stand on in his quest to annihilate us all.
She didn’t reply, her concentration on the destruction growing inside her, that beautiful ball of cerulean energy mingling with green and purple and her earth.
Life and death. She was repeating the words in her head with another phrase. Create and destroy.
No, Aflora, I said, crawling over to her on the floor.
She’d fallen off her chair moments after chaos erupted in the source, and I hadn’t stood back up after Constantine had hit me with a spell. I’d been too dazed and confused by the descension of power to attempt to fight. My father had drilled strategy into my mind from a young age, a gift I was astutely thankful for right now.
I grabbed her wrist. Aflora.
Flames sprang up between us as she tried to shove me away with her cerulean WarFire. I inhaled the spell with my mind, dismantling it before she could burn me. Then I encircled us with an impenetrable bubble. Zephyrus fell inside it, my enchantment tied to those with Aflora’s best interests at heart—which apparently included him.
Fine.
He could stay.
“Help me,” I demanded, catching his gaze. “We need to ground her.”
I flinched as Constantine hit my shield with a spell meant to eat through the fabric of my outer layer. The source energy gave me momentary pause, my gaze sliding to his through the invisible barrier.
Then I caught the inky lines writhing across his skin, the dark source growing in him by the second, confirming his re-ascension. Only, it wasn’t the traditional form. No trials. No rituals. Just a call to the dark source to grant him access, to name him the rightful king.
And another piece of the puzzle snapped into place.
He was using this incident as a reason to retake the throne. He would claim Malik wasn’t powerful enough to stop Aflora, so he took over the mantle to protect his people.
A fantastic platform for a dictator.
All with Aflora at the heart of it. Then he’d use his newfound rise to power to call for mass extermination again, and this time, he would have the full backing of the people.
Fear was a motivator.
And Constantine was an expert manipulator.
I saw it all play out in my mind, his strategy masterful.
“Zakkai!” Zephyrus shouted as more WarFire poured out of Aflora, heading straight for my shield. I yanked it back with my mind, squandering it and shoving her to the ground.
“Stop!” I commanded, my hands on her shoulders, my legs straddling hers. “It’s what he wants!”
“We need to bite her,” Zephyrus said. “It’s helped before.”
“Her other implosions were unintentional,” I gritted out through my teeth as she started creating a wall of her own in her mind to block us all out. If she succeeded, my barrier would dissolve beneath her power, and she’d destroy the fucking room.
I leaned down to kiss her, putting the full force of my power on display while I took control of her as the Source Architect. I weaved my energy through hers, dismantling her wall block by block. She growled, creating more, faster and faster, but I countered each one and kissed her harder.
Come on, Aflora. Hear me.
No! she shouted, her agony a blade against my soul. They killed him! They killed Kolstov!
I know, I whispered.
You wanted him dead, she accused. You. This is all because of you!
I sighed, hearing the pain in those words and realizing how much she would have hated me had I fulfilled my plan to end the entire Nacht line. It was too late now, the deed already done, and no apology would right this wrong for her.
So I tried another avenue. There’s too much innocent life in this room, Aflora. The ones who deserve retribution aren’t here. Look at their souls, sweet star. See who they are.
He’s here, she growled. He’s right there!
And he’s surrounded himself by innocents, I tried again. This isn’t the way.
It’s what you wanted.
I know, I agreed. But not like this.
Another scream split her lips, more power rushing out of her in tormented fury, her emotions piercing my heart and temporarily muting my senses.
“Aflora,” Zephyrus breathed as he collapsed beside us, clutching his chest, his eyes wide as fiery energy swathed him like a lethal blanket. His defenses came alive as he tried to fight it, but her power destroyed it in a flash, touching his skin and eliciting a tortured bellow from his mouth.
“You’re going to kill him!” I shouted, my hands moving to her throat and giving her a squeeze. “Focus, Aflora. See what you’re doing!”
She snarled at me, so I cupped her cheek and tilted her head
toward Zephyrus. The flames had engulfed him completely, and I didn’t have the energy to dismantle that spell and keep up our barrier—which Constantine had almost gotten through with his growing magic.
A gasp caught in Aflora’s throat, the energy dying in an instant as she tried to squirm toward him. I moved, allowing her to reach his now still form.
Constantine threw another deadly spell our way, one I caught this time and volleyed back at him while Aflora’s dangerous energy morphed into one of life and vitality.
She pressed her palms to Zephyrus’s chest, her new spell warm and comforting as she pulled her negative enchantment from his spirit.
He inhaled sharply in response, then muttered a curse and clutched his chest. Tears poured down Aflora’s cheeks, apologies flying from her lips. But we didn’t have time for that. We had an irate Elite Blood hammering on my shell with far too much power.
Ascensions took time for a reason. They were about balance and control, neither of which he seemed to possess at the moment.
And he was surrounded by Warrior Bloods and Malefic Bloods, their combined energies forming a lethal weapon that would destroy us all if we didn’t find a way out.
“Aflora,” I whispered. “I need you to shadow us.”
We weren’t ready for this battle.
And there were still too many innocents, Aflora’s flames having blocked their exits.
“Aflora, I need you to shadow us,” I repeated, grimacing as the final layer of my shield began to crumble. “Right fucking now!”
She grabbed my wrist, her other palm still touching Zephyrus, and engaged her connection to Shade. It was visceral and real, my mind so connected to hers that I felt her growing energy.
She found what she needed from him without much thought, her powers working on instinct alone. Then she whirled the three of us into a cloud of dark magic and took us to a bedroom I didn’t recognize.
I collapsed on the floor, my energy reserves depleted and in dire need of restoration.
Aflora fell to the ground beside me, her shoulders shaking as she deteriorated into sobs. Zephyrus pulled her to him, holding her with a ferocity that made me envious. I wanted to do that. I wanted to comfort her. But I couldn’t fucking move.
And I knew she didn’t want me right now.
You wanted him dead, she’d said, the accusation thick in my thoughts.
Had I known what it would do to her… I… I wasn’t sure I would have been able to go through with it. It’d been my goal all along. But seeing her now, hearing her cries, watching her fall apart… I never wanted to be responsible for such agony.
She was my mate.
My other half.
My Flora.
I would never put her through something like this. Fuck, she’d been through so much already. She didn’t deserve any of this.
It left me wondering what would have happened had I refused my father’s command. No bond. No yanking her into this world of war and destruction. Would she be in a flower bed now? Playing with her earth magic? Smiling at some boy, a good mate, who made her trees and other forms of blooming life?
My heart thudded wildly against my ribs, my mind forming the picture perfectly.
Sweet Aflora, growing into her Earth Fae Queen status.
Happy.
Twirling in a circle.
Flowers in her hair.
So fucking beautiful.
But her cries to my left reminded me of her reality, her dark hair spilling across the carpet, as her body trembled beneath violent sobs.
The enchantment had worn off. She was herself again. Except her cerulean irises were blurred with tears, her cheeks red, her shoulders rounded.
This wasn’t who she was meant to be. She reminded me of a wilted flower, her final petals falling to the ground as the life disappeared from her features.
I’m sorry, I whispered into her mind, my heart breaking for her, for us. I’m so fucking sorry, Aflora.
I reached for her, needing to do something, when feet landed to my right, Shade’s essence clawing at my senses and drawing my gaze up to him and the body in his arms. “I need you all to listen and do exactly what I say,” he declared. “Or we’ll lose Kolstov forever.”
Several Minutes Earlier
“HIS DEATH WILL BE your burden to bear,” my grandmother had warned me weeks ago.
“I think I screwed up,” I’d told her that night.
“Come,” she’d replied. “We’ll discuss it over cookies.”
I knew then that she had bad news for me. But this… I hadn’t expected her to warn me about this.
She’d said that Kolstov’s life was the price I would pay for all my fucking around with time.
Well, I don’t accept that, I thought, repeating the words I’d said to her that night.
There was no way to come back from death. Once a life strand ended, no amount of magic or time manipulation could fix it.
Which was why I couldn’t afford for Kolstov’s life strand to permanently end.
Come on, Emelyn, I thought. Do your thing.
She was my distraction. The ticking time bomb. The one I knew would explode if pushed enough. And I needed her to erupt for me now.
All I need is a few seconds. My teeth clenched a little at the thought, but I quickly schooled my features once more and covered the oversight with a yawn. No one could sense my intentions. And I only had one chance to get this right.
Come on. Come on. Come on.
My pulse kicked up a notch.
Just a little meltdown. I know you have it in you. I’ve seen it.
“You’re killing him!” Ella screamed, lunging forward and being thrown back by one of Malik’s spells. Lima winced as Ella hit the wall.
A few other Councilmen exchanged glances.
I looked at Tadmir. He angled his chin just a little, saying, Not yet.
He knew what I planned to do.
He’d helped me strategize this entire event.
He also knew what would happen if I got this wrong. “Only one shot, Shade. And you’ll be risking everything to do it,” he’d warned.
“Kolstov doesn’t deserve to die for my choices,” I’d told him.
“If he knew the alternative fate, he might disagree.”
“We’re not having this discussion,” I’d snapped. “Either help me fix this, or fuck off.”
I very rarely lost my temper, but I was at wits’ end with all this bullshit. Aflora had detonated seven times under my watch. Nearly destroyed countless lives. Then almost took her own life after realizing the extent of pain she’d caused others.
Never again.
Tonight, we would get this right.
Just as soon as I fixed this problem.
Malik gathered energy into his palm, readying the next phase of Kolstov’s punishment. A few Councilmen gaped at his decision to force his own son to serve both sentences back-to-back. This would kill him, and they all knew it.
Yet no one spoke.
My father even grinned.
Could no one see the truth before their eyes? That this wasn’t really Malik, but Constantine’s doing?
“Stop!” Emelyn shrieked as the power grew.
“Dad,” Tray whispered, his eyes rounding in horror.
Emelyn shot forward, WarFire forming on her fingertips.
This was my moment.
Five seconds, I thought, concentrating on Kolstov’s soul and whispering an enchantment through my mind. Alqiama Fi Al Mawt. Energy hummed along my skin, subtle and disguised by Emelyn’s outburst as she nailed Malik with her power.
Several gasps followed, then the Elite Blood King hit Emelyn with a paralyzing enchantment that stunned her into immediate silence. Lima cursed, catching his daughter as she fell.
“This is why females are forbidden in Council matters,” Malik seethed, the words ones I’d heard Constantine say almost verbatim. “Too emotional. Get her out of here.”
Lima didn’t argue, carrying his daughter from the r
oom on quick feet.
Tray gathered Ella close, shielding her with his body, his eyes wide with horror as his father resumed his spell, nailing Kolstov with the exsanguination charm.
A jolt hit my chest as I absorbed the spell with Kolstov, my ties to his soul forcing me to endure the pain with him.
My burden, I thought, gritting my teeth. I. Accept. This. Burden.
It burned like a motherfucker, sucking the life from my lungs and weakening my knees. To everyone else, they would see our bond dying and chalk up my reaction to the pain of losing a mate.
I’d planned this moment perfectly.
Previous experience had prepared me with a manipulation plan, one where I informed Constantine of everything as it happened. Including the mate bonds.
Because he already knew everything from Dakota.
She’d been his asset all along, having seduced Zephyrus and Kolstov to teach the future king a valuable lesson. Then she infiltrated the Quandary Bloods under the guise of being ousted from society after the prince ruined her reputation.
So rather than hide, I presented myself as forthcoming and trustworthy. But I only went to Constantine with my information, then he told me what to tell the others.
He thought I was his puppet, that I believed his lies about grooming me as the future king.
I played every game, won every riddle, and volunteered for the tasks he desired, all the while knowing how they would truly benefit me in the end.
Constantine used Aflora’s disappearance as a way to discredit Kolstov, stating he’d failed his trials. Then he’d told me to let Chern sense the other bonds, to have him reveal the truth to the Council.
I’d claimed innocence. “Their bands hid the link from me,” I’d said. “But Chern detected them while searching for Aflora. Her essence leads to Zeph and Kols.”
Several Councilmen wanted to bring Kolstov in for questioning.
Constantine quieted them, said to watch him instead, and suggested I be in charge of monitoring the Midnight Fae Prince.
And that was when I’d recommended the bite. “It’ll provide me with a way to really keep tabs on him, just like Aflora.”
The approval in Constantine’s irises had been unnerving.
Then Malik had disagreed.
And the two had dismissed themselves to engage in a private conversation, one where Constantine weaved a spell that no one seemed to see except for me. Perhaps because I’d witnessed variations of it in other timelines.