He slowly opened his eyes, and in an instant his gaze was locked with hers. He furrowed his brow.
“Princess . . .”
“You know,” she began, “I really think you should start calling me Cleo now, exclusively. Proper royal titles are so . . . yesterday.”
The serious look remained in his eyes, but his lips curved up to a cautious smile. “You think so, do you? Hmm. I’m not sure I like it. Cleo. So short, so . . . cheerful. And it’s what Nic calls you.”
“It is my name.”
“No, your name is Cleiona. A goddess’s name shouldn’t ever be shortened.”
“I’m not a goddess.”
His smile grew, and he stroked the hair back from her face. “It is encouraging that you haven’t run away from here yet, away from me.”
“I haven’t, have I?” She brushed her lips against his, dizzy from the knowledge—both sweet and scary—of how she felt about him. She hadn’t even realized the truth of these feelings until she’d spoken them aloud last night. But this was real—realer than any emotion she’d ever felt.
“Wait,” she gasped and sat up, pulling the blanket around her. “Magnus . . . it’s light out.”
o;Yes, I know what you are,” she said, her throat tight. “You are the god of fire.”
“Yes. But you have no concept of what that truly means. Allow me to educate you.”
With narrowed eyes locked directly on her, he began to grow in size. Twice, three times . . . four times as tall and wide as his usual stature.
He towered above her, a monster created from fire.
A monster who was fire itself.
The fire Kindred in his truest form.
As she trembled at the sight of him, Lucia fought to stand her ground, to not cower before this creature she had dared defy.
She had come so very close to helping him destroy the world. And now she needed to get as far away from him as possible so she could have the chance to save it.
He lowered his blazing face to hers, coming close enough to singe her hair. “I am eternal. I am fire. And you will do as I say, or you will burn.”
“Is this who you really are?” she asked, breathless. “Have you been lying to me all this time? Using me like all the others have? I thought we were family.”
He roared, and more flames rose up all around Lucia. Her cloak caught fire, so she shrugged it off, quickly stepping away from it.
“You won’t kill me!” she yelled at him. “If you kill me, your dream of destruction and re-creation is over.”
“I can do plenty of damage without you.”
“Not nearly as much as you need to.”
“Do you really think you’re so special? That you’re the only one blessed with these gifts? I will wait until a new sorceress is born, and she will help me. As you like to remind me, I have time to wait. You, though, are fragile—even more fragile than Eva was.”
With that, a gigantic blast of his fire hit her full on. She squeezed her eyes shut and raised her arms, as if that pathetic effort might shield her from his elemental rage. She screamed, expecting the whole of her body to be consumed by burning pain as her flesh melted from her bones.
But she felt nothing.
Tentatively, she opened her eyes.
A whirlwind of fire swirled violently around her, but didn’t touch her. It had been stopped by a barrier of violet light, surrounding her like a cool, glowing halo.
She looked down at her ring, the amethyst now blazing like a tiny violet sun on her finger, its light bright enough to blind.