Page 9 of Burning Ice
Kylix’s amusement sharpened. “You don’t even know, do you? You have no idea what you are. But I do.”
Mirel gasped, dry throat tasting of iron. His hands trembled loud in the silence.
Golden eyes burned, amusement and hunger tangled. “Fight me, little ghost. Show me how far that ice can reach. I promise I won’t let you kill me, but I’ll enjoy watching you try.”
There was no turning back now. No way he was going to survive this. Mirel shook, lungs burning, eyes freezing, body trembling as the power tore loose without thought. He had never used his ice to fight, only to survive. Now it lashed out like panic. His vision blurred, spots crackling at the edges. Kylix’s measured step forward made vapor thicken around them, the distance shrinking until even fear felt intimate.
“Mirel?” Geron’s voice rasped through the cold. “What’s going on, son? What has happened to you?”
Across from him, the Imperial Prince lifted his hand.
“Run,” Mirel forced out, the word cutting his throat. Ice snapped from his fingers in a desperate burst, a jagged shard hurled blindly into the night.
Kylix watched it streak toward him, stepping aside at the last moment so it splintered harmlessly against stone. His laugh rolled low. He bared his teeth, jewels flashing. “Your aim is a little off. But my, do you smell good. I’m going to enjoy this.”
The residents huddled in the shadows, caught between terror and awe, their silence broken only by the moan of the gates.
Mirel hurled another jagged strike, ice flashing white across the dark. This time Kylix did not step aside. His eyes flared molten, pupils drowning in gold. Fire burst outward in a wave that split the night, meeting the ice head-on with a hiss of steam.
“You think you can taunt a prince? You think I would let you walk away after striking me in my own sight?”
Ice leapt outward in a wild lash, shards striking stone, climbing his boots. For a moment Mirel thought he had struck, but fire rolled back in molten sheets, breaking the shards to steam. His chest heaved, strength bleeding fast. Terror clawed higher. Another burst snapped loose, brittle spears shattering before they reached their mark, leaving him shaking and blurred.
Kylix pushed back, hunger curling in his tone. “I’m really hungry now.” Fire burst outward in a wave. The force made Mirel stumble, dragged a gasp from his chest. “Beg,” he said. His eyes burned. Voice low, velvet fire. “Beg me not to devour you.”
Mirel drew in a shuddering breath, fear clawing through him. Desperation tightened every muscle, he knew he could not win this. The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, a weight colder than the frost on his hands. He braced, filling his lungs until they burned, and shouted, “No!”
His cry burst sharp as he hurled another strike, shards of ice lancing hard against the fire.
Kylix staggered back, surprise flashing in his golden eyes before his smile returned, incisors glimmering. “Yes,” he breathed, almost delighted. He hurled back spheres of fire, each one bursting through the steam, forcing Mirel to twist and dodge by inches.
Panting heavy now, Mirel raised his hands again, summoning shards of ice and flinging them forward, his body shaking with the strain.
“Who are you?” Kylix’s voice was low, fascinated, vibrating against the air so close it thrummed against Mirel’s ribs.
Mirel spat instead of words, breath crystallizing mid-air. Kylix smiled wider, amusement curling his mouth as his eyes burned brighter.
“Do you think you can beat me? Those crime scenes you froze, the corpses stiff with your touch, I knew it was you. Little ghost leaving his mark, thinking he could stay unseen.” Heat surged through him and out his eyes, a blast of fire ripping across the barricade. The fight spiraled larger than the graveyard itself. Ice lanced upward into jagged towers, each one bursting as fire shattered it into steam. The ground split open, molten cracks glowing beneath as Kylix’s heat bled through the stone. Firestorms spun off his hands, while Mirel answered with spears of brittle light, each shattering in sparks.
Mirel moved with feral grace, wide-eyed, sharp, refusing the leash. Cold trailed his steps, sculpting statues that melted to ruin. Kylix stalked through the wreckage with blazing eyes, incisors flashing. The fire and ice tore the graveyard into steam and ruin. The ground hissed and spat where cold met flame, mist boiling up to blind them both. Sweat slicked Kylix’s skin beneath his coat, heat radiating in waves, while condensation rimed Mirel’s lashes. Every motion was labor, every surge dragging more from their bodies.
Mirel’s power began to wane, his chest rising and falling too quickly. Breathless, he watched as Kylix advanced, fireballs glowing in his hands. “Beg,” the prince whispered once more. Mirel shook his head, tears stinging his eyes, tears that iced before they could fall. Fear overtook fury. With one final, desperate attempt to defend himself, Mirel staggered back, palms spread. Ice bloomed again, this time not as spears but as walls, jagged towers rising to cage him from everyone and everything, a crude barrier against the Imperial Prince and the world beyond. A child’s defense, naïve, desperate, as if he could bury himself in frost and vanish from Kylix’s eyes.
The cold pressed tight around him, sealing him in his own wall of ice. Inside the frozen hush, his ragged breaths echoed back at him. His legs buckled and he sank to the ground, palmsscraping stone as exhaustion ripped through him. Panting, ribs sharp under the threadbare shirt, he lay huddled at the base of the wall, spent. For a moment he felt almost safe, until the heat of Kylix’s presence seared closer.
Kylix’s laugh rolled cruel from outside his wall of protection. “My men are standing outside of this pretty sculpture,” he mocked. “In a minute I will give them the order to detain you. Any final words to your friends here?”
From the stones Geron’s voice rang out, fierce despite the fear. “Mirel! Don’t give them the pleasure. I’ll find you, I swear it.”
Mirel’s power faltered. He staggered, chest heaving. His whole body ached with overuse, muscles trembling as though splintered. Breath scraped raw in his throat, lungs desperate for air that felt too hot, too thick.
Outside, fire roared. Mirel squeezed his eyes shut as his wall of ice melted in a rush of steam. The towers sagged and ran like water, the barrier collapsing until he was exposed once more, panting in the wreckage of his own defense.
Kylix stepped closer, standing over Mirel’s collapsed form, looking down at him like prey pinned beneath a predator’s shadow. From this distance Imperial Kylix was even more dangerous and devastatingly handsome. His bronze skin gleamed with heat, dark hair clinging in damp strands, golden eyes lit with wicked amusement. The jeweled incisors that glimmered when he smiled revealed something feral.
He murmured softly, almost tender, “Finally finished fighting, little ghost?”
He lifted a hand. The guards moved, but his gaze cut across them, and they froze. “Not yet,” he said. “I’ll handle him.”
