And this scream is audible.

It splits the air and echoes through the entire arena as he staggers backwards. His shadows evaporate and his body disappears from mine. I cough and gasp air into my lungs while that intense pleasure courses through me again.

It’s addictive.

My entire soul is just chanting,more, more, more.

I increase that flame of fear that I forced into Oleander’s chest until it practically consumes his entire body.

Urine trickles down his leg, wetting the sand underneath his boot. His eyes are wide with undiluted terror and his entire body shakes as he screams.

Then he cuts and runs.

The entire arena stares in shock as Oleander runs like a bat out of hell towards the door where the rest of our teams are waiting. I stare after him, pleasure still coursing through me while my mind tries to process.

Then something inside me snaps free.

It’s a violent shattering.

Like slamming a boulder through a building.

Walls that I didn’t even know I had inside me shatter like an explosion.

Gasping, I stagger backwards and lose the grip on my magic as memories flood my mind.

My parents. In our kitchen. The broken drinking glasses on the floor before me. Their faces as I look up. My pleading voice as I beg them not to hate me. Their eyes… Oh Goddess, their eyes as that slow but steady change starts. That moment when I can see their expressions change second by second until only deep resentment remains.

The memory that the Unseelie King has been using on me. The memory that I can’t remember having before he forcefully showed it to me.

My legs give out and I crash down on the ground.

Somewhere above me, Rosea’s strong voice booms across the arena. “What a shocking finale! Oleander Darkmane runs screaming off the arena, forfeiting the match. Ladies and gentlemen, with his shocking surrender, we have our winner. Selena Hale and the Black Faction!”

Screams and cheers and whoops sweep across the arena. But I can barely hear them.

Because now, a terrifying question has crept into my mind.

Icancreate emotions out of nothing. There is nothing stopping me from it. Nothing limiting my powers in any way. I am entirely capable of doing it.

Those crystal-clear seconds when my parents’ eyes go from looking at me with surprise to glaring at me with sudden resentment flash through my mind over and over again. That memory that I had repressed until now.

And all I can think about is that one terrifying question.

What the hell did I do to my parents?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Chaos fills the waiting room on the other side. The entire Red Faction, and half of the White Faction, are arguing with their respective faction owners, trying to persuade them to in turn argue with the guards that we should be disqualified because we’re technically not citizens of the Unseelie Court.

The guards themselves are busy glaring at Draven, who apparently almost shattered the door to get to me when he realized that I was truly in fear of dying. There are black scorch marks on the pale stone door where his lightning hit, and half of the tables and chairs closest to the door look to have been smashed against the stone by a blast of wind. Isera is standing by that charred door, gazing out through the slot towards the Unseelie King’s section with a slight smirk on her lips.

Draven, however, isn’t acknowledging the guards’ glares. Instead, he is seated on the ground next to where Galen and Lyra are lying on a pair of blankets. Galen’s hands are badly burned, and his leg is sticking out at an odd angle. Next to him, Lyra is breathing, but her eyes slide in and out of focus. Alistair is kneeling next to her, his hand hovering over her arm but not quite touching it.

Jocasta, who was celebrating our miraculous win earlier, has promised to take both Galen and Lyra straight to Haldia and pay for their healing as soon as the guards give us all permission to leave.

The moment I stepped through the door, Draven was there, checking my injuries and demanding to know if I was okay. I assured him that I was, that he should focus on Galen and Lyra, and that I needed a moment to myself.

In truth, I need more than a moment.