The fire fanned out from the door with breathtaking speed. Within seconds, it leaped all the way up the eastern wing’s facade to its tall, sloping roofs. Imeria watched the flames spread, helpless to stop them. The scorching heat warped her vision. She opened her mouth to call for Duja, but her lungs filled with smoke.

“Your Highness, don’t!” It was the booming voice of General Ojas. Beyond the flames, Imeria recognized his towering silhouette. He had emerged from the main building and was running toward the royal siblings. A wall of flame fanned out across the courtyard, blocking Duja off from all who could save her.

Pangil stalked toward Duja. Imeria saw the flash of madness in his eyes, as though he had been possessed by malevolent spirits.

“Pangil, please!” Duja cried.

He ignored her and wrenched her up by the collar with one hand. With the other, he conjured an arc of flame. Its shadows danced across his dark cheeks, and his lips curled into a sneer. He raised his hand, ready to cast the flame down toward his sister.

“Stop!”

The second his fingers flexed, Imeria shot to her feet. She launched herself at the prince’s back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pressed her hands to his forehead. The power she had long struggled to hide burst through her fingertips, hungry to be unleashed. Take him, it screamed in her head, and Imeria complied. She clawed deep into the rageful threads of Pangil’s mind and pulled tight.

“You won’t touch her,” Imeria said between ragged breaths. “You won’t touch her ever again.”

Beneath her, Pangil stilled. His head lolled back. He stared up at the smoke-filled sky, unseeing. Inky pools seeped out from his irises, blotting out the whites of his eyes. Only then did Imeria release him. She fell back on her hindquarters as the power that roared in her ears quieted to a dull whisper.

“Imeria⁠—by the gods.” Duja’s terrified gasp jolted Imeria back to her senses. She looked up in a daze. Her nose stung with the caustic scent of ash. The facade of the eastern wing crackled as Pangil’s flames leaped to the upper floors. Thick clouds of smoke rose from the broken windows, smothering the sunlight. Agonized screams reverberated across the courtyard.

Imeria barely heard them. Her eyes darted between her hands and the black-eyed prince, still trapped under her curse. Her entire body quaked when she realized what she had done.

“Duja”⁠—she croaked out a response⁠—“I can explain.” She reached for her, but Duja scuttled back.

The princess shook her head in disbelief. Beneath the streaks of soot, her cheeks had gone gray. “No,” she said in a strangled voice. “It can’t be.” When she stared back at Imeria, her face twisted into a look of horror.