Page 19 of She Who Holds My Wrath

More useful than you.

I push harder until my vision blurs, until the fire is the only thing left holding me upright. And only when the edges of my sight darken, do I drag it all back, the dome shrinking until it fizzles out completely.

Chapter 10

MAELKAR

Fuck me, I’m glad the fire protection gear held.

Between the flamebeast scale and my own shadow magic, I thankfully didn’t get roasted alive. I had to goad her. I had to make her angry enough to use everything she had. It’s the only way she stops overthinking, stops tiptoeing around the idea of destruction, and actually wields the damn gift she’s got. She has so much potential, and she’s wasting it clinging to the sweet little flower who scurried into my realm all those weeks ago. Beneath it, though? There’s a woman who could take all that hurt, all that hate, and forge it into something legendary. Did it sting, watching my words hit her like a blade? Yeah. But I’m nothing if not phenomenal at playing the soulless bastard when a job calls for it. Especially when my life is on the line if she doesn’t get her shit together.

Her fire fizzles out, and I push myself up on my elbows to look at her. She’s on her knees, sweat clinging to the golden strands of her hair, palms pressed into the dirt as her body rises and falls with heaving breaths.

“There she is. My little demon,” I purr.

She lifts her head, hatred burning in those ocean-blue eyes, the dark rings swallowing almost all of the colour. Oh, she’s pissed pissed. “Fuck you, Maelkar,” she spits.

I get to my feet, brushing the dirt off my leathers, checking for scorch marks. Thankfully, there’s none. Not on me, anyway. Strolling towards her, I see her raise a shaky hand. “Don’t come near me,” she growls, her eyes going darker still.

Maybe I pushed too far. But no one else around here is going to shove her past her limits. And time? We don’t have that luxury, not anymore. “Daisy,” I say, stepping closer again.

She bares her teeth. Gods, she’s beautiful when she’s feral. The old queen I remember so well is truly shining through. “I didn’t mean those things,” I tell her. “I needed you to use your power. To see that you can. That it’s okay to wield it.”

“So you thought bringing up my dead husband and telling me I’m useless was the way to do it? Gods, you’re such a freaking ass.”

I shrug, doing my best to feign nonchalance though her words leave a small sting. “It worked, didn’t it?”

I extend my arm, offering her my hand. She slaps it away, pushing herself up on trembling legs instead. Feisty. I see what Korithax saw in her. You know, besides the curves and killer good looks. But I won’t tell her that, just in case she thinks I’m trying to make a move and she decides to scorch me alive.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and for once, I actually mean it. “But we don’t have time for you to keep being afraid of yourself. Your fire? That’s not even half of what you can do. Not if you’ve still got Dasmyrin’s gifts in you.”

“I’m not Dasmyrin,” she mutters, dusting off her trousers.

“I never said you were. You’re Daisy. You’re someone better.” I give her a genuine smile, something rare for me. Because it’s the truth. I knew Dasmyrin. She was a badass, but she believed she was untouchable. That arrogance got her betrayed by the very people she created. The Divine Six—liars, manipulators, every last one. They never tried their shit on me because they knew without a doubt, that I could have ruined them. And because they left me alone, I let them be. Selfish? Maybe. But I didn’t care enough back then to get involved. I cared about my magic, my realm, and my monsters. Now I see how power-hungry they’ve become—how powerful they’ve become—and I can’t sit back. They need to be eradicated from the realms. And Daisy? She’s the one who can do it. They have become too powerful for me to do it alone now. But her? She just needs someone willing to shove her straight into the fire. To push her to her limits, so she can see how truly magnificent she is.

I’ll gladly be that bastard if it means each one of them dies a painful death with no hope of return.

Chapter 11

ARAN

Iwatch as Daisy’s fire engulfs Maelkar, her fury burning white-hot after he quite clearly provoked her.

I don’t know what words he used, but judging by the rage twisting her face, he was being his usual Shadowtongue self—an unrepentant bastard. It’s not how I would have trained her. I’d use patience, control, and strategy. Not cruelty and goading. But damn it, it’s working. The protective part of me wants to break his jaw for making her hurt like that. But even I know we don’t have the luxury of fragility anymore. Not now. Not with Velentha lost as our spy and the Six making armies.

I glance back over my shoulder, into the quiet of the chamber behind me. She’s still sleeping soundly, her short black hair spilling over her face in soft strands. She looks peaceful. From the outside, it almost looks like she’s entirely untouched by the chaos clawing at us from all sides. If only that were true.

Gods, I love her so much it aches. Despite the cost to our plans, I’m glad she can no longer return to those parasites. Every time she slipped away, fear consumed me. I was terrified they’d catch her. That they’d expose her and then destroy her. And they almost did. They got so close to killing her.

I thanked the healers personally after Daisy released me from the dungeons. Since then, I’ve hardly let Velentha out of my sight. She says I’m driving her insane, but I can’t help it. I almost lost my wife, my mate, my aeshira.

She’s trapped in this room, caged by necessity. The balcony’s the farthest we dare let her go, and even that’s a risk. One glance up from the wrong pair of eyes, one whisper that a member of the Divine Six hides in Zeriavoss, and everything would unravel. Chaos would take over, and the trust Daisy is slowly building would crumble within seconds.

My gaze pulls back to the sparring ring. Daisy is back on her feet after falling to her knees, and Maelkar has the audacity to pull her into an embrace. My jaw tightens. If he dares try anything beyond training, I swear to the unseen gods, I’ll end him. That man knows no boundaries at all when it comes to women and men alike. So I keep watching closely, quickly realising he’s not trying to seduce her at all—he’s consoling her. Apologising, maybe. For once, his embrace looks genuine and not at all like he’s being a slimy prick.

I tear my attention away and lower my eyes to the grimoire in my hands. The Særathi’s legacy, stolen and butchered by the Divine Six. The deeper I read, the more gaps I find. Whole enchantments missing. Spells ripped clean out. Only scraps remain of the most dangerous pages. Waking the Dormant and Godbinding. Torn out almost entirely from the book. Velentha was right. There would be no other reason for those pages to be missing, other than if they had been trying to master them.

The thought makes my blood run cold. Even with seven realms prepared to band together, facing such power will be a slaughter. With Waking the Dormant, they could rouse ancient beings best left buried. With Godbinding as well? The power is beyond comprehension. They don’t even need thousands. A handful of those creatures created by the Særathi spells would be enough to tip the war. A shiver creeps along my spine at the thought. And still, it isn’t only their spells we must fear. It’s the traitors. Fear is the sharpest weapon they wield, sharper than any blade. Already, whispers are spreading through the dominions. People believe siding with the Divine Six will spare them. But those fools don’t understand that if the Six win, mercy will be extinct. They’ll make slaves of us all, just as they made puppets of the gods they once swore to serve.