Magic funnels into her body, charring her from the inside out and frying her to a crisp. I don’t kill her—I’m not sure I even can after what happened last time, so I pull my magic back because I don’t want to kill her. I want her to live knowing that I am stronger. That I could have destroyed her, but I’m choosing to allow her to live. Let her goddess punish her for failing her yet again. Those two deserve each other.

As I stare about the ruined study, my breath drags in on a ragged gasp. Surveying the spoils of my destruction, I feel only grim satisfaction.

When my magic cuts off, I stalk towards her and stand over her broken body, ash falling over her like snow. A crash signals the collapse of the far wall, exposing us to the outside air. As tendrils of hair whip across my cheeks, I don’t even blink as I glare at her.

She looks up at me and groans, her blackened fingers reaching for me, her chest rattling with a dry breath.

“That’s for everything. For telling Rion and Atlas about me. For trying to use me. For every moment of misery that me and my siblings lived in Nostraza.”

I crouch down and get in her face, dropping my voice to a deadly whisper.

“Don’t ever think you have power over me, Cloris Payne. I will fucking ruin you if you hurt anyone I love ever again.”

Then I stand up slowly as she blinks—the stark contrast of her eyes against her blackened skin is positively ghoulish. She moans, the sound withered and cracked, and I try to summon up an ounce of remorse.

“Do you understand me?”

She whimpers, but I see the defeat enter her eyes. The understanding that she’s been bested, once and for all.

“Stay away from me,” I say. “From my mate and my family.”

Then I spin around, take Nadir’s hand, and we exit the room, closing the door on Cloris Payne for the very last time.

CHAPTER 41

GABRIEL

With my hands behind my back, I stand outside the aviary, staring across Ouranos. Clouds roll in overhead, thunder churning in the distance. Why is it always raining lately? Combined with the heat, it’s so humid that even my bones feel like they’re sweating. A scuffle at the door draws my attention to Hylene, who stands with one hand propped on the frame.

“You need some company?” she asks, and I scan her from head to toe. She’s in a soft yellow dress that worships her curves, her red hair piled on her head with a few curls falling around her shoulders. We haven’t had another moment to revisit our interrupted encounter on the balcony, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it many times since.