Aurora’s mouth went dry, and she knew if either of them looked closely enough they would be able to see the light of the storms flashing furiously in her chest. Let him come. She was not helpless. If he touched her, she would pump enough skyfire into him to stop his heart or char him from the inside out, whichever came first.

When Cassius did not respond, the older man turned to her, crossing the room with a calculating look in his eyes. She let her arms hang loose at her sides, but she could feel the buzz of energy already collecting at her fingertips.

He lunged at her, and she raised her hands up, bracing for impact, but it never came. Instead, Cassius tackled him from behind, and the two men crashed into a table, sending a vase and other knickknacks crashing to the floor. Aurora gasped, and Nova grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward the wall, and out of the way of the brawling father and son.

They rolled over and over each other, grappling for dominance, and eventually Cassius ended up on top. He reared back and landed a hard punch across his father’s jaw. The king grabbed one of the broken pieces from the vase, slashing it across Cassius’s cheek with an enraged snarl. Streams of red splattered the rug, and Cassius scrambled back, out of reach. The two stood, breathing heavy, circling each other.

“You would fight me over her?” the king growled.

“I have been waiting to fight you all my life,” Cassius said. “It is what you built me to do—to conquer whatever stood in my way.”

“I am not standing in your way. I am trying to give you a kingdom without another powerful heir to challenge your claim.”

“You do nothing but destroy. You will ruin this kingdom, like you ruined ours. I do not need or want your help.”

The king lunged again, and Cassius grabbed the arm holding the shard that cut him before, spinning and bending the arm back painfully until his father’s grip loosened, dropping the makeshift weapon. The king reached back with his free hand and grabbed Cassius’s hair, and then the two of them smashed into the wall—twisting and punching and trying to gain the upper hand.

The king broke free and grabbed the water basin nearby, dumping the contents, and then swinging the piece of pottery at his son’s head. Cassius ducked and rammed his shoulder into his father’s midsection, sending them sprawling on the floor once more.

“You ungrateful—”