Page 229 of The Wishing Game

"What's that supposed to mean?" Thea intervenes, taking a step forward.

"Stay out of this, Thea." Wyn shakes her head at Thea. "This is between me and Elora."

"And the entire Aperion that will laugh at you." Elora rolls her eyes.

"You're just jealous my brother happens to be Aethon's best friend, and he's going to come to my ball. I doubt he'll come to yours," Wyn says as she pushes her chin up.

"You—"

"What was it in that letter that you sent him?Dear General Aethon, it would please me immensely to invite you to my debut ball. It is going to be the grandest ball Arche has ever seen..."

Elora's eyes widen. "How did you?—"

"This?" Wyn raises an eyebrow as she opens her palm, materializing a stack of letters. "Sorry to say they got lost in the mail." She smiles.

"Damnation! Wyn's going to be in so much trouble," Thea mutters under her breath.

"I think she rather reminds me of someone I know," I add jokingly.

Elora moves to grab the letters, but Wyn takes a step back, holding her hand higher as the letters turn to dust.

"Oops. I do not think General Aethon is going to be able to come to your ball, Elora. Such a pity. But rest assured, I'll put in agoodword for you when he claims the first dance. I'll tell himallabout you."

Elora's chest rises and falls in frustration, anger evident in her features.

"Don't tell me they're fighting for a man," I whisper to Thea.

"It would appear so. It seems I have not been watching Wyn as closely as I should have." She grits her teeth, her body tense.

"You are going to regret this, Arwyn. My father will hear of this." Elora points her finger at Wyn, her nostrils flaring.

Wyn rolls her eyes. "Promises, promises. You might outrank me, Elora, but that doesn't mean I don't smell the jealousy off you from a mile away. You knew I was going to have my fitting today, at this hour. So you decided to bring your sour self here to ruin my day. Well, guess what? You've merely given me a boost of confidence because I just remembered that I havenocompetition for Aethon."

"You fucking bitch!" Elora rages before she throws herself at Wyn, removing a pin from her hair and slashing at her dress. Pieces of tulle fall to the ground, the body of the majestic blue dragon ripped apart.

Wyn's surprised gasp echoes through the shop as she stares at the torn embroidery. Her lips quiver, her lashes misted with tears.

"Let go of me." She pushes at Elora, doing her best to avoid getting nicked by the dagger-like pin.

"Oh, no, no. You're not doing that," Thea curses before she intervenes to pull them apart.

Elora swivels, her eyes connecting with Thea's as she waves her sharp pin around.

"Ladies, please!" the seamstress calls out in distress from behind.

"What are you going to do, Erithea? Everyone knows you're the useless one," Elora spits out.

Thea's features become tense as she morphs her hand into claws, blocking the pin from cutting her face.

With Elora distracted by Thea, Wyn grabs a handful of Elora's hair, her fingers lodging into her scalp.

"Ah!" Elora yelps, her eyes watering. But that only prompts her to become more aggressive, slashing blindly at Thea with one hand while punching Wyn with the other to free herself. Their positions are awkward, and neither can land a good blow on the other.

Seeing that there are two against one in the fight, the other girls accompanying Elora rush forward to help. One of them tries to get Wyn's hand out of Elora's hair while the other attempts to push Thea off.

There's a cacophony of gasps, whines, and moans as they all get tangled within each other. One of the girls gets her hand in Wyn's hair, pulling on it. Wyn winces and she pulls even harder on Elora's hair, her fingers turning white from the deadly grip she has on it.

"Bitch," Wyn yells. "You're going to pay for ruining my dress," she vows, twisting her neck to push the other girl off her. She suddenly releases her grip on Elora's hair, but she doesn't let go. A black smoke erupts from the center of her palm, enveloping Elora's hair and turning it into ash, tip to root. Just like the letters, her hair disintegrates until there's nothing left.

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