Page 51 of Fated In Ruin

I tried to crush down my mounting jealousy, which I had no right to feel, descending the stairs quickly, as though movement could stop my doubts from circling like vultures. When I reached the bottom, I paused, closing my eyes.

For better or probably worse, I had made my choice.

And now I had to live with that decision.

Even if it meant enduring the weight of my own betrayal crushing me from the inside out.

* * *

“Rememberwhat the magic felt like before?”

“Oh, I remember,” I muttered, my eyes constantly drawn to the beds of roses around us, gently swaying in the salty breeze. Why had he brought me here, to this garden, where the roses were a constant reminder of…everything?

“Good,” he said, totally ignoring my sarcasm. “Now find the end of the tether, grab hold, and don’t let go.”

Shadowy flames twisted around me, curling like smoke, except they weren’t smoke. They were echoes of something deeper, darker. They coiled into dark, writhing figures with hollow faces and clawed hands, remnants of people’s worst deeds made manifest, sin, burning like the darkest fire.

“We don’t have time for anything complicated.” He circled me, his mouth pinched in a tight line. “All we want right now is for you to control your magic long enough for us to cross the grounds, get into that building and get you close to Ravok.”

“You might be overestimating my abilities,” I grumbled. In the tub, my body supine beneath his clever hands, the magic had purred like a contented cat. Out here, it gnashed and snarled, lashing against my insides, flaying me apart.

“You’re afraid.” His voice was quiet, steady, and despite myself, some of that calm seeped into me, smoothing out my clenched muscles, easing the ache in my belly. “But that’s good. Fear means you understand the danger.”

“Trust me, I understand, because I might actually implode at any moment.”

“I’m right here. I won’t leave you.” He stopped behind me, set his hands on my shoulders and my entire body relaxed, the cold stone beneath my feet in stark contrast to the heat roiling inside me as he turned me toward the opening to the garden, the empty space beyond.

“Now, Vicious,” he murmured, his voice a tether in the dark. “Let your magic rise.”

I swallowed. Something inside me cracked open, like I wasn’t just summoning magic—I was letting something terrible escape its cage. But I closed my eyes and reached for the tether, letting my controls drop away at the same time.

The air thickened.

A slow, curling cold rose in my chest, tendrils of black flame unfurling from my fingertips. And then, the shadows emerged, clawing their way out, screaming without sound, faces stretching in agony. Sins given shape. The weight of their agony crushed me, threatening to pull me under.

“Control them,” Malachi said. “Don’t fight the power. Guide your fire, control the flames.”

Guide it.Right. Like that was easy when the magic wanted to consume everything in sight.

I clenched my fists, which only made things worse. The shadows stretched, writhing, drawn toward Malachi now. My breath caught. No, no, no—I tried to haul them back, but one clawed hand reached out and brushed down his cheek, leaving a trail of blood.

Fear swept through me when I realized I’d hurt him, like the entire universe stopped.

Out of the writhing mass something solidified, a pale face taking shape from the shadows, then Rhiannon stared out at me through crystal blue eyes framed by dark lashes, a tattered dress whipping around her, one hand rising in greeting—or warning.

I reeled backwards, away from those too-familiar eyes, from the past staring me right in the face. My gaze went to Malachi, his mouth open, horror etched across his features and any doubts I might have had about he and Rhiannon faded away.

Rhiannon was kept hidden away, protected by someone Aoife trusted.

The roses.

They once…were beloved by someone I was very close to. I keep them in her memory.

“Evie.” Malachi’s sharp voice cut through my shock and Rhiannon melted away into the mass of writhing forms. “Don’t react, they are yours to command. This is your inheritance, your destiny. You were born for this, don’t be afraid, embrace your power.”

I forced myself to breathe, to remember what he’d told me. Magic wasn’t just power—magic was carved from intent. I focused, pulling the shadows back, trying to make them move the way I wanted instead of the way they hungered.

The figures twitched, resisting at first. Then, slowly, they followed my lead. They coiled around my arms, no longer snapping like rabid creatures. The cold fire still burned, but it was contained, only the flowers closest to us had been reduced to frozen ruins.

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