Kingdom of the Feared (Kingdom of the Wicked, #3)(77)

A second, stern message had Greed grudgingly allowing me into his royal House, especially with the promise of aid. And a threat from Wrath’s newly restored wife.

Fine hairs suddenly stood at attention along the back of my neck that had nothing to do with the icy wind. Demons wielding bows nocked their arrows, the sensation of their fear prickling over my skin like needles. Wrath didn’t move, but I sensed his attention shift to the lawn beneath us. He felt what I did.

Greed signaled to a guard who peered over the edge. I stepped forward, that prickling feeling growing in intensity. And I realized it wasn’t the guards’ fear I was sensing. It was our enemies’. The witches were already here. My eyes narrowed at the seemingly empty lawn, then I noticed the tracks in the ice-coated grass. The broken blades had been trampled.

“Wait!” I cried out.

The guard didn’t heed my warning. He leaned over the ledge, noticing what I had a second too late. Before anyone could act, blood burst from his eyes and he toppled over, crashing into the snow. Shouts rang out down the line, guards firing arrows into an enemy they couldn’t see and, therefore, couldn’t hit. If they continued like this, the witches would succeed.

And that was not something I’d allow to happen.

“Have them stand back,” I yelled to Greed. “The witches are using magic.”

“They are nothing but pathetic mortals. And we are using weapons.” Greed signaled to the next line of guards.

Ignorant fool. He’d lead them into death.

Despite the miserable winter storm, my magic lit up the sky, plummeting like raging, vengeful stars shooting to earth. The rose-gold balls of fire hit with such speed they left craters in the ground. Screams rent the silence, the sound like animals being taken to slaughter.

I summoned more magic, more fire, watching emotionlessly as I rained fury down.

Whatever spell the witches had been using to render themselves invisible broke. Just as I imagined it would. Magic could only be battled with magic, and theirs was nothing but a mere dilution of what mine was. It was time to remind them of that.

“Fiat lux.”

Hooded witches caught fire, their flesh burning and melting from their bones—the sickeningly sweet scent rising high. They fought back with impressive power of their own. They sent magic arrows careening through the air, striking demons with enough force to fell them. I could end this now, end them now, but forced myself to fight fairly. I wanted Wrath to know for certain that I could be trusted, even when emotions were running high.

A magic arrow sliced through my arm, drawing my attention to the witch who’d fired it. Nonna wrenched her hood back, her expression hard. Her look indicated that I had chosen to become her enemy the moment I removed my spell-lock.

I stared at her for a moment, allowing myself to fully digest that she had fired the shot. I could kill her right now. Mete out justice and vengeance for what she’d done to me and my sister. And yet…

“Run,” I mouthed to her.

It was the one and only warning I’d give. And it was more than she deserved.

I didn’t look in her direction again, was unsure if she listened. In the end, she had made her choice just as I had made mine.

Demons to the left and right dropped, and I didn’t know if they were dead or badly injured. I kept firing my magic at the front line, doing my best to push the witches back to the woods, to frighten them away from House Greed. Soon they’d give up; their magic wasn’t unlimited. We only had to keep them from doing any serious damage while they depleted their sources. A task that shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.

I sensed Wrath’s ice magic, and then I heard a hiss of pain. I jerked my attention to him, seeing a magical arrow that had cleanly pierced his shoulder.

“Are you all right?” I shouted over the sudden roar of sleet and wind.

He gritted his teeth and yanked the arrow out. “They coated them with dragon’s bane.”

Another flew through the air, aimed straight for his throat, and I plucked it from the sky, snapping it in my fist. Two more arrows with the burning agent soared toward Wrath.

Nonna must have told the witches to aim for him to either distract or punish me for choosing him. Rage, white-hot and all-consuming, ricocheted through me. My husband was being targeted and that was where all pretense of civility ended for me. To hell with our plan.

“Enough.” My voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried over the guards and witches. It was like the gusting wind of a hurricane, and the witches must have sensed the danger sweeping in. They stopped firing their magical arrows, grabbed one another’s hands and began chanting. As if their magic could ever hope to outdo mine, especially now that I was truly mad. I inhaled and drew in the power pulsing in my center, tapping into Source fully.

That well was never-ending. Infinite. With my spell-lock in place, my power had been skimming only the surface of what I was capable of. And the witches’ anger, their fury over the reemergence of House Vengeance, the attack on Sea & Vine, and the fear I now felt coming from them in waves fueled me. I became every twisted tale they’d told. I embraced my true self. I was now Fury in the flesh, and they would not forget what it meant to strike out at a goddess.

Stories would be told in their coven of this battle. Warnings whispered in hushed tones as they kept one eye on the sky, searching for an omen that they’d stoked my sin by even daring to speak of this day at all. Wrath would live, but none of them would.