Page 198 of Mother of Death and Dawn

All of them were clad in what had once been white—all Threllians. I noted this numbly, like I was watching another version of myself make this observation. My blood rushed in my ears, dulling my senses. A strange power still thrummed through me. The heart was still clutched in my hands.

Max staggered to his feet beside me, taking the heart and tucking it back away in his pack, but I still felt its power even when it was no longer in my grasp.

We looked to the east. Beyond the balcony, the Fey moved away from the city in neat lines of green. Retreating.

We walked up what remained of the stairs. The top of the building had once been a dining room that showed off a view of the city below. Now, it was just a slab of stone, open to the elements, with the rest of the house collapsed around it.

The blond hair stood out in the carnage. Lady Zorokov cowered beneath a pile of ruin, curled up like a frightened child. When I approached her, she let out a sob and put up her hands, which were so badly ruined that they were just a mass of bloody fingers jutting out in all directions.

“Please, no.Please, no.”

I looked at this terrified, pitiful, injured woman, and I felt nothing but hate.

I grabbed her and dragged her out into the waning sun. “Please,” she wept, over and over again.

“Is that what they said?” I could barely hear myself—could barely hear anything but the roar of my own power. It was painful and intoxicating, thicker even than Reshaye’s rage. “Did they beg for their lives when you cut off their hands? All those innocent people? All those babies?”

Tears streamed down Lady Zorokov’s cheeks. “I can give you anything. I can give you money, influence. You want my title? It is yours.”

“I don’t want your title.” My hand fell to her throat. It was so fragile beneath my grasp, the lingering magic lending me strength. “I could say that this is for them. For every one of the people you murdered. But the thing is, that’s a terrible trade. What good does your life do for theirs? It’s worth so much less.”

Her face crumbled. I forced her to her knees, her back to me, my arm tight across her chest. Max stood silently beside me, his hand sliding into mine on the opposite side.

“Look,” I snarled in her ear. “Look at the country that you worked so hard to steal. When I kill you, this country will fall. And I want that to be the last thing you see, Lady Zorokov. I want you to watch your empire die.”

“Please—” she wept.

It was so easy. I was so connected to this power that Max and I shared, the boundary between our magics erased. The flames understood me like they were the air in my lungs. Lady Zorokov ignited easily. I held her there as she screamed. I wanted to let her burn, wanted to let the heat consume her slowly.

“Tisaanah…” Max’s hand tightened. I knew what he was saying, even though I didn’t want to hear it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing against the seductive draw of my own rage.

“This isn’t you,” he murmured.

Burning was a slow, terrible way to die. But she had inflicted such painful deaths on so many innocents. I wanted her to suffer. Ihatedhow much I wanted it.

But Max was right. It wasn’t who I was.

I reached through the flames, gripped her face, and snapped her neck in one powerful movement.

Still, I let her body burn there, high up at the top of her fallen empire.

A beacon across all of Threll, signaling the end of an age.

* * *

By nightfall,the city had gone quiet. There was no one left to kill. Threll had fallen. The Fey had retreated, for now. They would return. That would be tomorrow’s problem.

Today, though, the rebels celebrated. What had been a field of carnage by day turned into a blood-drunk celebration by midnight. Maybe to some they would have looked like they’d lost their minds, laughing to the moon while still covered in battle-drenched clothing. But freedom was a drug these people had been denied their entire lives. It hit a heart hard.

I felt strange, like I was walking through a dream world. I was injured, but didn’t hurt. I smiled at my countrymen, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Serel.

I staggered through the chaos and debris looking for him. After hours, I found him sheltered beside one of the remaining houses, crouching on the ground, his blood-matted head bowed.

Cradled in his arms was Filias’s ruined body.

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