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The fucker laughs.
He actually laughs.
“Is that what has you so riled up?” he says, moving away from me towards his kitchen. He pours two glasses of amber liquor and hands one to me. “If you want to be accurate, though, she kissed me.”
Despite my anger, I drain the glass he gave me and slam it on the table next to us. “You fucker.”
He moves with infuriating calm to sit at his table, gesturing for me to join him. I don’t. I move closer but make no motion toward sitting, choosing instead to leer over him for once.
“That cannot be the only reason you’re here, Zeph.”
“She’s mine, Mace.”
His laugh is brutal and piercing. “Viola is her own, Zeph. If she chooses to spend time with you, she can. If she chooses to spend time with me, I will embrace it. She is miraculous.”
I slam my hands on the table in front of him, shaking with barely contained rage. “I know how miraculous she is! That’s why you’re going to stay away from her. You’re offering her up as a sacrifice!”
His face falls, and I see a flicker of indecision flash in his eyes. He takes another slow pull from his glass. “The Gods need to return, Zeph. I have to hope that Viola is strong enough to withstand the ritual.”
“Strong enough? You would risk her life? For what? For Gods who abandoned us? Does she know? Does she know it could kill her?” When he winces, I know my answer.
“I will tell her.” His words are measured and final. “I will tell her solely so she has the information to make her own decision.”
I grab my empty glass and hurl it against the wall. “You would let her choose to die?”
He doesn’t flinch when the glass makes an impact, sending a rain of broken shards around his head. “I would if it was what she wanted. She deserves to make the choice.”
“Fuck the choice! I will not let her die! I have waited too long for someone like her, and I will not lose her.”
“You do not have her nor possess her, Zeph.”
His words hit me in the gut because I know he speaks the truth. Viola has kissed him and not me. As long as he is around, she will never choose me. Anger boils inside me. “From the moment I saw her in the games, she has lived in my head. I cannot let you kill her.”
“Don’t you see, brother?” Mace sneers. “You will not have to let me do anything. Viola will make her choice, and I will support whatever choice that is. Fuck Stone, and fuck you, frankly. Neither of you have considered what she wants. Have you ever considered her a person and not an extension of your desire?”
“It doesn’t matter what she wants! I will not let her die! If I have to take her away from here, I will!”
Summer magic is the magic of warriors. That’s what my mother always told me. I have always preferred to fight with my words, but today, for her, I can unleash my full potential.
It takes me only a moment to set my intention, and then flames are licking up Mace’s legs. He snarls and buries the fire in a mound of dirt. “So, is that what this is coming to, Zeph? You’d fight your own brother?”
I direct a blast of light into the room, blinding him to me, charging forward. I get him around the waist and slam him into the wall. Caught off guard and unable to brace himself, Mace takes the full force of my strength in the form of a fist to his nose.
The bone cracks, and I feel the warmth of blood cover my knuckles. He howls in pain, shoving against me and pushing me into the table. “You’re acting like a child, Zeph!” he roars. “Fighting over a woman! She will make her own decisions. You do not own her.”
I visualize flames dripping off my fingers at his words, and when they do, I slam the flaming fist up into his chest.
He groans and stumbles backward, freeing me to slide off the table. “Zeph, stop. There is no need to fight.”
My eyes track his fingers flexing. “Trying to influence me, Mace? Haven’t you learned by now I’m immune to your skills?” A lifetime of him trying to manipulate me into taking the blame for childhood mistakes has given me immunity over his magic, and today, I am grateful for that.
The snarl on his face could rival my own, but he knows I have him beat. Autumn magic is not particularly dangerous in the physical sense. He does manage to manipulate the metal of a spoon from his table, extending it like a blunt sword to swing at my stomach. The impact of it doubles me over, but carefully placed flame had the metal melting in his palms. He never was great at Geomancy.
I lunge towards him again, my fist connecting with the side of his head. I feel it knock back, but when I attempt to punch into his chin, he counters me with a knee to my gut. “Is that all you’ve got, Mace?” I pant, erecting a shield around me to allow me to catch my breath.
“I do not wish to cause you harm, brother. You’re clearly going through something, and my offensive magic can have dire consequences. Stop this so I do not have to decay you.” My shield falls, and he charges towards me, knocking me to the floor. “I do not want it to be like this, brother! I care for you!”
“Fuck. You.”
