Maybe later, I would even think back to the conversation I’d had with Casteel—the one where I had said I’d give those who stood against me a second chance, and how this was the exact opposite of what I’d said.

Then again, these men and creatures were actively trying to kill me, so maybe not.

I opened my senses wide and let the other side of my gift out, the half that took life instead of giving it. It was a lot like when I healed someone, but in reverse, I realized. My skin began to vibrate as the taste of metal filled the back of my throat. The hot, acidic burn of anger from the Unseen and the stark, frightening nothingness from the Gyrms reached out to me, and I took it—the hatred and even the void, letting it enter my veins and pour into my chest where it joined the eather. Under me, I felt the ground begin to faintly tremble as my gaze swept over those in masks. The primal power of the gods invaded my every sense.

My flesh sparked.

Silvery-white embers erupted over my skin, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Casteel step back, and the wolven retreat. “Get ‘em, girl.”

I smiled as wispy, crackling cords stretched out from me. Someone gasped, likely an Unseen as glistening spiderwebs of light stretched out from me, crawling across the ground in a network of radiant veins. Several Unseen whirled, started to run, but they wouldn’t make it. I would ensure that.

In my mind, I saw the webs of light falling upon the Unseen and Gyrms, their bodies breaking and crumbling, their weapons dropping and falling to the ground. I focused on that image as I took all the hate and fear and nothingness I held in my chest and fed it back through the many cords.

The rush of power swept over the trees, rattling the leaves until several fell. The webs of light lifted and then dropped over the Unseen and the Gyrms, those standing in the road, the ones running toward us, and even those who’d fled.

Bones cracked like thunder, arms and legs snapping and backs twisting. Bodies of inhuman creatures collapsed into themselves, shattering and sifting like dirt. One after another, they either broke or crumbled until they were just things on the ground, and then I pictured the remains turning to ash to match the piles of dirt.

After all, it seemed unsanitary to leave the bodies behind.

Silvery-white flames erupted over the still, twisted things on the ground, swallowing them and fading until all that remained was ash. The silvery webbing thrummed as the ancient, raw power pulsed through me.

“Poppy.”

Static crackled through the air as I turned my head to where Casteel stood on the bank of the road, his chin lifted and hair tousled. What I felt from him wasn’t acidic or empty. It was warm and sultry, spicy and sweet.

“That was incredibly hot,” he remarked.