Fury ripples through my system. Of course my brother would choose to do this on the night of Zella’s coronation. It’s supposed to be a special time for her, but yet again, he’s making it about him.

“No powers,” he states, circling me. “Hand to hand combat and weapons only.”

“Agreed,” I grit out through clenched teeth, and I feel the flutter of our vow in my chest. At least my powers won’t make an unwanted appearance. They’re bound to the promise just as I am.

“Keryth.” Zella wrings her hands, worried, and I know she’s thinking about a time not too long ago when she saw two family members hurt each other.

It adds fuel to my rage. This isn’t fair to her, but I don’t have a choice. “It’ll be fine, my sweet. You and Tehya stand back. This’ll be over soon.”

Well, soonish. Hopefully.

Silas has been known to put up quite a fight before. As twins, we’re evenly matched in height, weight, and skill. The only way to end the fight is for one of us to subdue the other.

Without my powers, it isn’t going to be pretty. There will be blood. Which is why I’m ten times more motivated to end it quickly. For Zella’s sake.

I don’t hesitate to swing, and Silas blocks my sword with his. I repeat the action a few times, pushing him to the other side of the fountain, farther from the women.

Once we’re a safe distance away, we unleash on each other.

Blades slice through the air. Metal clashes against metal. I dodge and duck.

The first cut lands on Silas’s thigh. The gash isn’t deep, but I hear Tehya whimper. If their bond is as strong as mine, then I know she can feel it. I feel bad about that, but this is her mate’s doing.

Silas is temporarily distracted by her, and I take advantage of the moment. I jab the tip of my sword at his gut, but he jumps out of the way just in time.

“Zella,” he calls without looking away from me. “Your father was right about the plague.”

“What?” She sucks in a breath.

Ah, a different strategy—he’s trying to cloud my judgment with rage. And it’s working.

“Now isn’t the time to joke about that.” Clang. Clang. Spin.

“I’m not kidding.” He grins. “I paid the witches well for their labor. A sickness like that isn’t easy to produce.”

If he’s saying what I think he’s saying… “You caused the plague?”

“I did.”

He uses my shock to stab my torso. His blade slides between two ribs, only an inch or so. Zella cries out, and I retaliate by hitting him in the eye with the hilt of my sword.