Too far. I’ve gone too far.

Again.

“Kiran,” says Fin, and I see it now through his eyes, what’s happening. Me pinning Blaise to the wall, consuming her with my anger, just like I did with Ophelia.

Fates, no.

Shame washes over me, and I let go. Blaise slumps, but I catch her before she hits the ground.

No, no, no.

I brush my fingers against her neck, trying to soothe what I’ve just unleashed upon her, the memories I’ve just made her relive without realizing it.

Had I realized it?

I feel as though I’m going to be sick.

But the more I try to calm her, the more I try to seep tranquility into her flesh, the more the emotion escapes me. Since I can’t grasp onto it, can’t remember what it feels like, it resists me, refusing to be transmitted.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, the apology gravelly in my mouth.

It takes a moment for the glaze in Blaise’s eyes to dissipate, and though her breathing is still heavy, she speaks with little shake in her voice.

“It’s all right. That’s good. That’s really good,” she says, to which I furrow my brow.

I have the sudden urge to look back at my siblings, to see if they’re as confused as I am, but something tells me I shouldn’t turn my back on the vampire whose mind I just tortured.

“I was worried that wouldn’t be strong enough,” she says, letting out a shiver. “But it’s definitely strong enough.”

I let go of her, stretching my fingers, which are sore from pinning her to the wall.

As the sounds in the room come back into focus, my ears focus in on her companion’s ragged breathing behind us. The scent of burnt flesh tinges my nostrils. I turn to discover that Lydia has been holding the other vampire off by searing his skin with her Flame.

Still, she’s sweating profusely from the effort of holding him back.

She finally lets go, and he runs to Blaise, scooping her in his arms, shoving himself between me and her.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Why are you here?” asks Lydia, and while I’m still reeling from what I inflicted upon Blaise, how much further I almost went, my sister holds no pity for the girl in her voice.

Blaise untucks her face from her companion’s grasp, and strengthens herself, though she’s still blinking hard, like she’s trying to remind herself that the emotions she was feeling were mine and not her own.

There’s a bit of vulnerability there. Knowing I’ve let Blaise into that portion of my head.

“Because,” she says, steadying herself against her companion, who’s glaring at me like he wants to rip my throat out for touching her, “I know how to stop Az.”

It’s Fin’s turn to be distrustful now. “Wouldn’t it have been more convenient if you’d figured that out before you betrayed Asha?”

Blaise looks as if she’s about to say something quippy, but then her shoulders falter. “I’m sorry. I really am. And I wish I could be saying that to Asha right now. I can’t… I know I’ll never be able to make it right. That I can’t undo what’s happened to her these past few months. But I think I know how to stop him.”

“And how is that?” Lydia asks.

“Piper can lead the Others back to the Rip,” Blaise explains. “The only problem is, Az still has mental control over them. Piper thinks if we can break his focus, she’ll be able to cut into the line, lure them with her magic flute.”

“This all sounds very convincing,” says Lydia, her tone conveying the opposite.

“Distract him? Like seduce him, distract him?” Fin asks, irritation biting his tone.

Blaise shakes her head. “No, it needs to be something more earth-shattering than that.”

“You want to use me. My powers,” I say.

Blaise nods.

“I would have imagined you would have already told him about my powers. Or was that the one thing you decided to keep for yourself?”

Blaise’s companion growls, but she doesn’t flinch from my gaze. “Az knew about your powers from your first wife, Gwenrial—Gwenyth, whatever her name was. What I’m hoping he doesn’t know is that you still have them.”

My mind wanders back to my now deceased father. How intentional had it been that he’d only taken my power over fire? Did he know about my ability to control emotions? I’ve been assuming that power came from my mother, but what if...

“You want Kiran to upset Az so much he loses a mental grip on the Others?” asks Fin.

“That would require getting close to Az, but I’m sure it could be done,” says Lydia. “Assuming Kiran’s powers can cause that kind of emotional distraction.”

“Believe me, they can,” says Blaise, standing up taller, though I can’t help but notice that the tips of her fingers are still flexing and unflexing.

Guilt sluices off of me, so much so I’m shocked no one else can feel it, even though I’m not touching them.

“And how do we know this isn’t just another one of your schemes?” asks Lydia. “Just another way you plan to betray us to Azrael? It’s rather a convenient plan for him, don’t you think? To lure Kiran back into the castle? Convenient that the only person who might challenge his throne is the only one who can use this power.”

Blaise bites her lip, looking uncertain.

It’s Blaise’s vampire companion who speaks. “Blaise ran across the Sahli to get this news to you. She was burning in the sand, the sun cresting the horizon when I caught up with her. If that’s not enough evidence that she cares for your friend’s safety, I don’t know what is.”

“Az intends to send the Others to attack Othian tomorrow,” Blaise says. “Again. If you don’t believe I’m doing this for Asha, then at least believe I’m doing it for Evander. For Ellie. For—”

Whatever Blaise is about to say gets caught in her throat.

“It’s better than the plan we had,” says Dinah, piping in for the first time.

Lydia makes a noncommittal noise, though even my stubborn sister can’t help but admit that our plan had its holes.

Like what we planned to do in the aftermath of stealing Asha out from under Azrael’s nose.

I’m of two minds. There’s the part of me that wants to be the one to pull my wife into my arms and carry her out from the nightmare of the palace.

Then there’s the part of me that wants to have somewhere to carry her to. A home where she won’t have to live in hiding, constantly hunted by the male she used to call a friend.