Crowned in Crimson Cinders

Chapter 49: The Final Straw

I spent hours immersed in my abilities, a desperate attempt to find control in a world spinning out of it. Inky, black flames danced in the palms of my hands, obeying my silent command as they snaked up my arms, eventually engulfing my entire body. They didn't burn, and wouldn't harm my clothes unless I willed it, something I had worked tirelessly on in order to avoid burning them to a crisp like I did when I first discovered my powers. I felt their raw power, a cold comfort. I reeled them back into my core, a silent vow forming in my mind. One day, I would unleash them on someone truly worthy of my rapidly diminishing mercy. Amora would be who I target first. She had inflicted a lifetime's worth of pain on me, I was curious to see how well she would equal my ancient and powerful magic.

Sometimes, when I delved too deeply into the well of my power, the voices returned. They were relentless, a persistent echo that haunted my waking hours and invaded my dreams.

"Why do you continue to wait? You have the evidence. Destroy Amora and bring justice to your siblings," it whispered, a chilling suggestion that slithered into my thoughts.

"Who are you?" I managed to push back, my own voice a faint tremor against its insidious presence.

It paused, as if weighing its answer, a deliberate silence that unnerved me. "I... am you. But different. I am what you could be."

I froze. The voice mimicked my own, yet I knew it wasn't my true thoughts. It was a twisted reflection, something alien. "No, you're not me. I won't be manipulated by you."

"You and I are bound now, your powers are a mirror image of my own. We are one, you and I. Follow in my footsteps, and I can show you everything you are capable of." The voice pressed on, its whispers a plague behind my eyelids, a constant thrumming in the back of my mind. It spoke with such conviction, as if it were a separate entity, a conscious being.

Despite my resistance, its words pricked at my curiosity. What was it talking about? Follow in its footsteps? My destiny was my own, and I would not be swayed.

"I was hesitant once, like you are now," it continued, its tone laced with a dark knowing. "I soon realized I was only preventing myself from reaching my full potential. By holding back, you will never achieve the revenge you deserve."

I had enough. With a fierce mental effort, I slammed shut the door to the deepest part of my power, severing the connection to the voice. I watched as the black, inky tendrils receded from my fingertips, and the oppressive presence lifted. I was myself again, but the lingering chill of its words remained.

I walked out onto my balcony and my eyes gazed over the landscape below and stopped at the gardens. It had been a week since Darian led me to the garden. A week since our almost-kiss, since Amora's interruption left us with unfinished business. He'd returned to my room that same afternoon, and we'd watched the sky dim, the moon ascend, and the stars emerge, tiny pinpricks of light in the vast darkness. If this somehow turned out to be a dream, I never wanted to wake up. Never. Against all odds—a forced marriage to a prince I was taught to despise but now loved, murdered siblings, and these new, terrifying powers—I had found a fragile peace. My life had twisted so quickly, irrevocably.

I often found myself wondering if I could go back, return to the life before Darian. Would I choose it over this one? That older life would mean having all my siblings, their familiar presence a comfort I now desperately missed. But it would also mean the constant sting of my parents' abandonment, Amora's endless cruelties. I wouldn't have Darian, though, or these powers. Even with my brothers and Breya gone, I felt like I was finally understanding who I was. And somehow, despite everything, I was happy now, with Brock and Darian by my side. As much as I despised the death and destruction this murderer had wrought, my siblings' deaths had forged an undeniable bond between Brock and me, making us closer than we'd ever been. That was something I might never have gained if I'd stayed in my old life.