Page 48 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she hissed. “No sane person would willingly want to touch the power that lives within them.”

“I didn’t claim to be sane.”

“It is not kind—not a fantasy that will grant you an easy upper hand. To even attempt to merge with such an amplifier is a torture you think you can handle until it’s too late.”

“You seem to be thriving just fine,” he observed.

She hated the sting within her with every mention of her magick while she couldn’t wield it.

“It wasn’t without great difficulty, and many times, I almost never made it. They forced it upon me without a care whether I lived or not. They’ve tried many others since, desperate to have a personal army of unparalleled magick wielders able to turn their abilities to something unmatched.”

“You’re the only one?”

“Yes.”

As far as she knew at least. She’d never heard of anyone else conquering it, only of their deaths for trying.

Despite her warning, Izaiah didn’t flinch. Gave no indication that the high possibility it could claim his life frightened him. It exposed a new side to the fae she didn’t expect. Something cold and distant. She wondered if his companions had ever seen past the layers he wore for a crowd.

“This is my request,” he said calmly.

Zaiana gave an exasperated breath.

Then a flare ofhopeerupted. What if exposing herself to a ruin could drag her magick forth?

“Where is it?” she asked with a new urgency that didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m not such a fool to take you right to it yet.”

“Then how else am I supposed to teach you?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. There’s always steps to be learned without ever lifting a sword.”

Her jaw clenched. “It’s not a moral weapon.”

“If you don’t,” Izaiah went on, ignoring her, “I won’t be coming for you. No. You like to pretend that still heart of yours can’t feel—make people think there’s no way to hurt you, but there is. Two ways, in fact, within reach. And I won’t hesitate to kill them and watch your black heart bleed for them.”

His threat toward Tynan and Amaya flared a wild rage under her skin. She should have felt the heat of her lightning, and that stillness only riled her to a maddening degree.

Zaiana took a second to calm her fury, as she’d done so many times in her life when the masters had pushed her for a reaction. Only to punish her for lashing out.

She wrote deadly promise in her eyes, closing the distance to Izaiah. “You think I don’t know?” she taunted.

His jaw shifted at her slow assessment of him, the energy between them charged with electric challenge, and in those green eyes he knew what she found.

“A good attempt at masking Tynan’s scent—I’m sure it’s working for most. You’re a damned fool if you thought I wouldn’t see it. Not only in scent—it’s written over every damned inch of both of you in a room together. Let me tellyou,Izaiah. If you harm him, I’ll tear the heart from your chest and let the last beat of it shudder at his feet.”

“You don’t get to threaten me with that,” he hissed, matching her standoff. “Not after what you did to Kyleer.”

Zaiana almost winced. Then, there it was: a common ground she hadn’t seen coming.

“Is that what this is? Your attempt to get back at me for your brother by leading on Tynan?”

“Maybe it is,” he sneered.

His heartbeat betrayed his words. Zaiana had tuned herself in to it the moment she’d begun to follow him. Izaiah’s was well-mastered. She’d never found one that could remain so steady even when she was sure his emotions would strike to give away anything his straight face wouldn’t. Until now, with the subject of Tynan, it had sped for just a few seconds before it could be tamed.

“Don’t test me,” Zaiana said, beginning to walk away. “You won’t like how it ends.”

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