Page 189 of A Flame of the Phoenix

They brought him to the center of the room and pushed him to his knees beside Augustine and the silver-haired fae. Zaiana’s vision tilted. There were one too many fae.

Faythe gave the outward reaction Zaiana could hardly tame from within herself.

It became clear to her then…so hauntingly clear.

This night wouldn’t be to Transition Faythe.

It was for Kyleer.

She could only conclude it was meant to break Faythe’s spirits, which remained strong despite any other efforts. And it was working. Faythe didn’t stop struggling against the two guards who held her. Despite the Magestone buried in her flesh and the near-death sight of her pale, slicked flesh, Faythe fought for him.

It was futile, and this Transition…unstoppable.

He won’t survive it.

It was all her thoughts roared. A pounding erupted in her head, filling her ears with cotton and blocking out any logical sense to leave, only impulse and desperation threatening to break her.

“Maverick.” Marvellas called him over.

Kyleer meant nothing to her.Shouldmean nothing to her.

Yet that statement gave a haughty laugh in the voice of Death that laid a closer claim to him.

Maverickhesitated. Near undetectable. No one else would have noticed.

“Please!” Faythe cried, becoming hysterical.

It took three guards to restrain her, and she sympathized with Faythe then, knowing exactly how it felt to harbor magick that could destroy them all and have it silenced when she needed it most.

Zaiana had never wanted anything in her life. Never thought she cared for anything enough to place it above her own survival.

Her fingertips flexed behind her back, feeling a prickling sensation grow. It wasn’t enough. Not close to the well she knew could erupt lightning through this room.

“You’ve defied me for too long, Faythe. I’m hoping this might make you realize how impatient I’m becoming.”

“I’ll do anything you want—just please don’t hurt him!” Faythe sobbed.

Zaiana could hardly hear her. Anything. Her mind was stilling to a calm so cold and lethal as she watched only Kyleer. Seconds turned to a sound in her mind: a loud countdown to the end of the world.

“I’ve tried to be patient with you—even kind. I’m afraid your chances are gone.”

Augustine spoke, spilling a silent tear as he did, only to Faythe. “You were right. She was absolutely wonderful, and a privilege to have met.”

Faythe knew what he meant, and it broke down the heir even more.

Then a blade sliced his throat. Zaiana wanted to look away from his final stare of agony held on the stars.

She couldn’t move an inch.

A guard came forward, collecting blood that pooled from his neck as he choked on it. Everything about this was a painting of gruesome depravity. A heinous way to have Faythe watch her friends die.

Zaiana’s next exhale shuddered from her with a slip of rage when Maverick gripped Kyleer, yanking his head back. Augustine’s blood spilled over the sides of his mouth as he was forced to drink it. Murderous rage toward Maverick overcame her far more powerfully than anything she’d felt in the heat oftheir worst battles. He leaned down subtly, saying something in Kyleer’s ear.

A cloaked person on their knees was reciting the forbidden and ancient words of the dark spell, tracing markings on the ground with the spilled spiritual blood.

“Please stop,” Faythe sobbed.

Time raced forward so fast. Too fast.

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