41. BALANCE #3
“I do,” he insisted. “I’ve wanted to for most of my life.
I just never had the means to, nor did I have Maeson.
She’s . . . she’s my purpose, I think. If I could feel a damn thing, I’m pretty sure she would be my mate.
” He glanced at me, then looked back out over the mountains.
“She’s going to help me do it. Whatever that brings afterward is .
. . well, it doesn’t matter. It has to be done.
It needs to be done. And there’s no better time than this war.
That way, just in case things don’t go as planned and I end up .
. . at a loss . . . the benefits will outweigh the cost.”
I hated to hear him think that way. While I understood his reasoning, it still didn’t sit well with me that there was a possibility he might lose everything.
“So, you see.” He sighed. “We both need to get our shit together.”
His attempt to make light of the situation fell flat. I couldn’t get past the thought of him struggling. To be so eager, and yet so afraid of the one thing that might allow you peace . . .
And I thought my power struggle was difficult.
“I don’t want you to worry about me, Nye. I’ll handle it, however it plays out. I’ll find the balance, just as I know you will.”
“You’re just like Auren. You put too much faith in me,” I said in a tone that was far too ominous for my own taste.
“That’s why I’m your second,” he reminded me, a trace of his normal self breaking through and smoothing his brow.
“And as your second, and your chief advisor, I’m going to advise you to not wait too long to speak to Auren about all this.
She needs to know what you plan to do, and the magnitude of it. ”
“I know.”
His attention fell to where I was clenching and unclenching my fists. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He nodded toward my hands before meeting my eyes one last time. “Find your balance.”
I gave him a curt nod of my own, then he vanished.
In his absence, I became overwhelmed with emotion.
Too many things were warring in my mind. The sun was suddenly too hot, the air too heavy. My hands shook, my palms slick with sweat. Shadows whipped through my veins, but I tried to keep a hold on them—to make them obey my command—and wait until I called them forth.
I needed to gain control.
I needed Auren. She was always able to bring me back from the edge, even when I felt like I was about to topple over it.
I could tap into her mind, but she had never been here before.
There was no way for her to port. And did I really want her to see me lose my shit on a couple of old stone pillars?
The shadows surged again.
My goal had been to get my mind right and remain in control while releasing my power in small bursts, just as Verdi used to have me do. Instead, I was stuck fighting my own will, clenching my jaw as shadowfire swarmed my blood, my thoughts.
I had the urge to let it all out.
That same gritty voice as before, male and female as one, suddenly whispered in my head.
Let it out, Dark One.
My breaths faltered, and I bent at the waist, trying to keep everything contained.
Shadowfire unfurled from my palms, spilling into the air like a torrent of darkness.
I had no other option but to aim it at the nearest pillar, just as I had done hundreds of times before.
It shot across the space with deadly precision, and slammed into the stone with a force so powerful it shook the ground.
Silence filled my ears, and I watched as a current of black flames swarmed the pillar.
It felt like a spool unfurling, like an extension of myself taking its wrath out on the temple ruins.
A formidable tempest of darkness.
I clenched my teeth, trying to slow the shadowfire’s rage, but it . . . it wouldn’t stop.
Panic flooded my gut.
I tried to close my palms, to cut the power off. Still, it spewed forth like a dam had been broken.
Fuck.
This was not good.
The force with which the power vacated my body caused me to tilt back. I reinforced my stance, anchoring my heels to the ground so as not to lose my footing like I was losing hold of the raging black flames. They were beginning to spread, flooding the atmosphere like a stain on the world.
A strained grunt broke free from my throat.
Control, I told myself. I willed the word into being, calling the shadowfire back to me.
Finally, I caught hold of its leash in my mind and pulled. The last of it punctuated the air in every direction, and I heard the deep crack of stone echo throughout the mountains.
I heaved in deep breaths, staggering backward. My hands fell limp at my sides as the darkness faded into shadows on the wind.
Across from me, the pillar that had taken the brunt of the force bore a jagged fracture that cut diagonally from top to bottom. Never before had my power even come close to compromising the integrity of these structures. Not with whatever enchantment reinforced them.
A sharp tinge of fear—a feeling I’d long-since buried deep in the recesses of my mind—crept forth once again as I stared, gaping, and watched in stunned silence as the column splintered, and crumbled before my eyes.