The energy of the tether between Enzo and myself now shifts, pivoting the balance of power. The tendrils of my energy that had been wrapped so securely around Enzo’s heart a moment earlier now start to loosen. Something pushes back against it. I claw for control, but suddenly Enzo’s energy surges back at me, seeking my heart. It is the same surge I’d felt when he’d first returned, when we were alone together and his strength overwhelmed mine.
“I love you,” I cry out at him. “I didn’t want to see an enemy nation use you for their own gain. They are taking your throne—can you not see that? Your Daggers are traitors!”
I stop when Enzo’s power hits me again through the tether. It makes me cringe in pain. His fists tighten. An anguished expression haunts his face. “You nearly killed Raffaele at the arena,” he shouts back. “You killed Gemma. Are you not using others for your own gain? Your new Elites? This war, your aim for the throne? Me?” His voice breaks a little, and beneath his rage is a deep pain. “How could you?”
His words stir the whispers in my mind. They are angry now, and so am I. “And who did I learn that from?” I snap. “Who taught me to use others for my own gain?”
Enzo’s eyes fill again, pooling with darkness. “I loved you once,” he shouts. “But had I known what you did to Raffaele in the arena—had I known what you’d do to Gemma, I would have killed you myself when I had the chance.”
The words stab me, one by one. I feel a wave of grief, even as my anger continues to beat against my heart. How easily he turns away from me. How quickly he forgives his own Daggers’ betrayals. I grit my teeth through my tears. “I’d like to see you try!”
Enzo’s eyes are fully black now. I feel his energy overpowering mine, wrapping me in heat. I try to move my limbs, but I can’t. No.
He lunges at me.
I fling my illusions at him, wrapping him in a net. He staggers backward for an instant, clawing at his face—he thinks there is a white-hot blade stabbing him in the eyes. But somehow, through our link, Enzo is able to discern which threads are real and which are illusion. He pushes it aside. Then he shakes his head, fixes his eyes on me again, and sends fire searing toward me.
Enzo, no. I throw my hands up and scream. So, after everything, this is how I will die—burned alive, the way I should have gone all along.
The flames sear my skin. But then, an instant later, an ice-cold blast of rain strikes me hard, quenching the fire. The force of the wave knocks me to my knees. When I look up, Sergio clings to the back of a balira right over our heads, the creature’s enormous wings spraying water across the deck as it turns in a spiral.
Enzo looks up too. His moment of distraction is all that I need. I take the opportunity to reach out and hurl my threads of energy through our tether. Enzo winces as my claws rake back into place, returning control into my hands. Enzo shudders. He fights me once more, but then stops. I fall to my knees on the deck, breathing hard. Nearby, Enzo crouches onto one knee too. His head is bowed. We are both exhausted.
“You live because I say so,” I hiss, my teeth clenched together. My rage builds, filling every corner of my body. I can no longer see the boy I once loved. I can hardly see anything at all. The whispers take over, wrenching away my control over myself. My voice is no longer mine, but theirs. “And you will do as I command.”
Once more, I reach through our bond and pull hard.
Set this world on fire, Enzo. With everything you have.
Enzo turns his head to the sky. He takes a deep, ragged gasp of breath.
Raffaele steps forward. “No!” he calls out, but it’s too late.
Fire explodes from Enzo’s hands.
It leaps over the railing of our ship and races across the water in all directions. The closest ring of warships catches fire instantly. From each of them, the flames radiate out, one ring expanding after another, setting alight the honeycomb of ships. Every Elite on board our ship freezes to watch it unfold. Screams echo from the burning ships.
Enzo’s power flows endlessly, engulfing everything in its wake. Explosions deafen us as the fire finds cannons on board the ships. The blasts throw us all to our knees. I can feel the tremor of it through the deck’s wood. Farther and farther burns Enzo’s fire, until all of the Beldish warships are ablaze, connected to one another by lines of fire as far as the eye can see. The flames lick high into the sky. I lift my head and let the rain fall on me, soaking in the feeling of his darkness. I am taken back to the night at the Spring Moons, so long ago, when the Daggers had set the Estenzian harbor on fire.
Finally, Enzo lowers his head. His shoulders hunch, and he falls to his knees. He lets out a moan, and when I look closer, I realize that the horrible burns that have always plagued his hands are now as high as his elbows, his skin destroyed, crisped black. His eyes remain dark pools, and a small ring of fire still encircles him.
All around us, the Beldish warships burn. Maeve looks on, stricken with disbelief. It is the first time I have ever seen her stunned into silence.