Not again. Jassyn’s distraught thoughts devoured him. His chest compressed with panic, throat tightening around his breath. He believed the general, that certainty in his voice. The finality of the sentencing.
Essence was nowhere in sight. Shoulders rising and falling rapidly, Jassyn flailed against the rending but remained kneeling, a prisoner to the shadows.
“And this little stunt you pulled with the prince?” The general rested his sword over his shoulder. His eyes flicked above Jassyn to the commotion of battle as fountains of power erupted around them. “Unacceptable.”
Fear clawed out of Jassyn’s gut. What was I thinking? He flinched when the general reached for him.
Elashor shoved Jassyn’s rain-soaked curls away from his eyes. Twisting threads of darkness across his fingertips, he said, “I see you wasted no time shedding the Vallende sigil.” A streak of midnight knifed straight for Jassyn’s head. Sharper than a blade, the rending sliced into his skin.
A hiss of pain escaped through Jassyn’s clenched teeth as Elashor started splitting his flesh. He refused to give the general the satisfaction of crying out.
“My mother will have to fix this, of course.” Elashor tilted his head, lips thinning as he concentrated on peeling Jassyn’s skin. “A shame I don’t have the skill to draw her trillium as well the capital’s tattoo artists, but she’ll appreciate the sentiment.” He flicked his fingers, weaving his magic. “I wasn’t asking for much, you know. But you’ve forced my hand.”
Retreating into himself, Jassyn squeezed his eyes shut. A gust of wind rammed into him.
“I’ll still get what I want,” Elashor growled, carving deeper. “I think I’ll have my soldiers bring Serenna back with us—she’s been as resistant as you. We’ll see how long you’ll continue this act of rebellion with…motivations to spur you into action.”
Jassyn’s eyes snapped open. He blinked away the blood and rain pouring into his vision. Now he’s threatening Serenna? A breeze thrashed him, sharper than the last. Beckoning. Elashor must not know she’s gone. He had to believe that wherever Serenna was couldn’t be as perilous as in her sire’s hands.
Jassyn’s fear began to crack, fracturing as it transformed. A flicker of defiance sparked, flashing through him like the lightning cleaving the sky. I’ll die before I let him take me.
As if he’d heard the thought, Vesryn’s reassurance rippled through their telepathic link. Hang on, I’ll be right there.
No. The ferocity of the word Jassyn pushed back at his cousin ripped something free that he didn’t recognize. Something Vesryn had been poking and prodding. Through their training, the prince had hauled Jassyn up to his feet in the only way he knew how—relentlessly pushing Jassyn to his limits.
Blood and rain sluiced down his face, dripping off his chin to the grass. Driving away the general’s familiar harassment and taunting, Jassyn mentally steeled himself, ready to rely on his strength to stand on his own.
I’m handling this, he told the prince.
Heart thrashing against his ribs, Jassyn slowed his apprehensive breaths. He silently pleaded to the stars that revealing his magic wouldn’t put others like him in danger. But he’d had enough.
Jassyn called the storm.
A primal fury consumed him as he cast out his perception, reaching past the torrent of whirling rain. Sensing a surging pulse of power, Jassyn yanked on a flash of lightning fissuring across the sky. The tempest answered with a roar, infusing him with a charge of energy that raced through his veins like liquid fire.
A streak of light spun from the clouds, harmlessly crashing into him, arcing and dancing over his skin. Elashor’s eyes widened. Jassyn bared his teeth, channeling the barrage at him.
Elashor staggered back from the volley, muscles twitching and seizing from the shock. Jassyn didn’t temper the lightning’s might. The general’s flesh charred, mauled by the searing sparks.
The rending that was wrapped around Jassyn unraveled. Body back under his control, Jassyn swayed to his feet, lightning spitting from his palms. The purple sparks hissed in the rain, tangling in his fists, dancing over his knuckles. Punching the power out, Jassyn threw another charged web straight at Elashor.
The general choked on a scream. Bands of lightning twisted across his armor and skin, burning red streaks into his flesh. He spasmed as the energy stole control of his limbs. Jassyn spooled sparks with a flick of his fingers, twisting the magic, forcing Elashor to his knees.
Unleashed rage fueling his actions, Jassyn assaulted Elashor with telepathy, a talent he’d thought useless beyond communicating. But he now knew the ability was capable of more. Weeks of studying and untangling coercion had flung open a window to its secrets.
Compulsive magic had nothing to do with strength, like everyone had been led to believe. Knowledge was the source of power.
Vengeful and wild, Essence and lightning poured into Jassyn as he hauled on both sources of power. His breaths came fast, vision spotting as he funneled a cataclysmic whirlwind of each magic.
Channeling Essence, he threw the entire might of his telepathy talent against the general. I’ll pry out everything the king intends.
A breath of time unfolded between them.
Jassyn’s awareness invaded Elashor’s oily mind, lurching and slipping through the maze of his thoughts. Sensing the general marshaling his strength to pummel him like a mob of swinging fists, Jassyn’s Essence surged. He impaled a spear of telepathy into Elashor’s consciousness, latching on, a leech preparing to dine.
Any attempt Elashor made to erect a mental barrier was too slow. Too flimsy. Jassyn ravaged those fragile defenses, rampaging like a bull. He charged further into the general’s awareness, blocking Elashor’s power before he could assemble a counterstrike.
Twisting his wrist, Jassyn stripped control from Elashor, taking over his body. Jassyn bent the general’s limbs with his mind, forcing him to hold his sword to his throat.
“I should make you do it,” Jassyn whispered through his disbelief, his voice snatched away by the wind. Forming a fist, lightning flared and slithered across his skin.
Jassyn stalked up to Elashor, chaining the general’s legs to the ground with sparks. A swell of anger barreled through him, imbuing his words. “I can see inside your feeble mind.”
Body trembling, veins thrashing in his forehead, Elashor snarled as he fought the sword. But the general’s physical strength was no match for the magic at Jassyn’s command.
He could control everything.
He could end everything.
“It seems so simple now.” Something vengeful had Jassyn tilting his head, a predator for once, cornering defenseless prey. “I can snap my fingers and make you sever your own throat.” He snapped. Elashor gritted his teeth in response, pushing the sword deeper into his neck, skimming skin to draw a thin stream of blood. “But you already know that, don’t you?” Jassyn spun sparks in his palm. “What else do you know?”
Show me what the king is planning, Jassyn seethed into Elashor’s mind.
Images unfolded, incomplete thoughts Elashor battled to withhold, discussions with—
Someone snatched his shoulder, startling Jassyn out of the telepathic assault. Blinking rapidly, the prince came into focus.
“Easy, Slayer,” Vesryn said, squeezing Jassyn’s arm, anchoring him back into his own mind.
