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Fey stopped and slowly turned, fire blazing in her eyes as she faced Alastair.
Let him see me for what I am,she thought.Let him see a goddess’s wrath.
He froze under her stare, fear flashing in his eyes. Across the bar, she heard Jasper swear. Heard the Shifter hiss a command to Ferus, “Get everyone out of the building.Now.”
Howling exploded throughout the club, and suddenly there were Wolves everywhere, shepherding the patrons out. Wolves appeared from all corners, herding people toward the door, racing to clear the building. In the chaos, someone screamed.
This was why she could never be queen, why she could never wear the crown. They wanted a Witch who could protect the city, a Witch to stand between them and whatever threats may come.
They couldn’t understand that she was the threat.
“What the fuck was that, Alastair?” Fey asked. The electricity buzzing at her fingertips crackled louder, arching towards the ground.
“I…” Alastair stumbled back a step, lost for words.
Oh, that beautiful fury. That exquisite rage. It roared inside of her, eager to be set free. It would be so easy to burn this place down with him inside. So very easy.
“Youusedme. You don’t get to touch me like that, to use me like that. I’m not your fucking prop.”
“You’re mine,” Alastair told her through gritted teeth. “Not his.Mine.”
Cold. So, so cold, that beautiful anger inside her.
“When will you learn? I’m not yours, Alastair,” Fey told him, lightning trailing up and down her arms, crackling with energy. “I don’t belong to anyone but me.”
The ground shifted just slightly, the only warning before her power rose to a crescendo.
And the world exploded.
Chapter 25
ALASTAIR
Alastair ducked, dropping to his knees as lightning cracked through the air. It hit the walls like a bomb, shattering bottles and exploding furniture. In its wake, it left black scars of scorched wood marring the floor and spiking up the wall.
Considering the circumstances, the blast was remarkably contained.
Somewhere in the building, something was burning. A chair, a table, hell, maybe the very foundations of his club. He could lose it all right now. Fey could burn the entire building to the ground.
The thought of losing his nightclub didn’t scare Alastair. Seeing Fey in all her dark fury, seeing the extent of her power finally revealed, didn’t scare him.
But in that moment, he knew he had gone too far. Far enough that he might lose her.
And that terrified him.
He rose to his feet and took a step toward her, ignoring the instincts that screamed at him to run.
“You’re not mine,” Alastair admitted, taking another step. That rage in her eyes was so cold. He should be terrified of her. Terrified of this dark power. But this was all just another part of her, wasn’t it? Just another facet of the Witch he loved.
Goddess help him, he loved her so much.
Swallowing hard, he took another step. “But I’m yours, Witchling. Fully, completely, yours.”
The icy rage thawed. Just a fraction.
And Alastair did the only thing he could think to do. He dropped to his knees before her.
Let her kill him, if that’s what she wanted. Let her do with him what she will.
