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She could move her hands.

She glanced over to the Supreme and was greatly surprised to see a fear in the depths of her eyes as she watched her men go down one by one. She wasn’t focused on keeping Emara in place anymore, she was focused on Torin. Emara could see that the probability of Torin’s death was dwindling with every man he took down. And so could the Supreme.

The dark portal that was spitting out blackness and whirling catastrophe closed shut. The door to the underworld was locked.

Emara noticed her uttering something under her breath. After a moment, she realised it was chanting.

Was the Supreme gathering her strength to take down Torin?

She needed out of this Gods-damned circle—now.

“You have to break the circle,” Emara shouted to Torin, taking advantage of the stillness of the head witch.

“Angel, I am busy breaking necks, not circles,” he shouted at her from across the room, his swaggering confidence returning.

“No, for once in your life, Torin Blacksteel, listen to me. Break the circle.”

The Supreme was in disbelief, frozen by shock at the unrelenting power of Torin Blacksteel as he brought down yet another who had betrayed his clan. She clearly thought he would have fallen by now, or she wouldn’t have gone into shock as she watched him defy the odds. Emara knew she had to get out of this circle before that shock wore off.

“Torin!” The scream left her mouth as the tension of time ticked on.

He heard her.

He spun, crossing his swords and slamming them into a guard. The man flew through the air and skidded into the circle. The black salt crunched under the man’s body, the metal from his belt scraping a line in the shape that held her captive.

She heard another clash of steel to see two of the guards now cornering Torin, doing everything they could to stab him. He blocked the blows, but how long could he keep it up?

Shit!

The guard who had broken the circle began to stir on the ground.

Emara scrambled across to where he lay and removed his sword from his hand before he could fully wake. It wasn’t exactly her weapon of choice, it was much too heavy, but it could cut through flesh in a way that she knew was necessary to survive this. The guard’s eyes flew open, but before he could speak, she straddled him and drove the weapon right through his heart. He choked, gaping up at her. She looked away, unable to digest what she had just done. He didn’t have the same red eyes as demons did, but if she hadn’t stabbed him, he would have stabbed her—or worse, Torin.

The Supreme glared at her. As she took in the Supreme’s dismay, Emara finally let a smile cross her face.

“You may have put a chain around my neck to suppress my magic,” Emara said as she rose from the ground. “You may think you know who I am.” Crimson blood now soaked her nightgown. “But you made another mistake here tonight.”

Doubt set in around Deleine’s features as she watched Emara rise instead of the battle behind her. Emara was about to take advantage of that doubt as she realised the Supreme wasn’t cordial to violence. She wouldn’t let the hunters train in her palace. She hadn’t been at the Uplift to witness the destruction she caused, choosing instead to pull the strings from the background.

Violence was Deleine’s weakness.

“What you failed to realise is that I have another power, a trained power that you don’t have.” Emara gripped the sword in her hand. Fright and indignation crept into the dark pools of the Supreme’s eyes. It was the most human emotion Emara had witnessed cross her face. “I can wield a weapon. And not of fire, air, water, spirit, or earth, but of steel. And I am going to drive this weapon right through your soulless, dark heart.”

The Supreme flinched, actually flinched. But then she gathered herself with a dark snarl on her mouth. “Try your best.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Angel, you can’t distract me like that,” Torin panted as he fought with the other guards. He turned, kicking back. His foot connected with a guard’s face and he went down, unconscious. Torin’s sapphire eyes found hers, and that beautifully wicked smile warmed his lips. “You can’t say things about wielding a sword, wearing that nightgown, and expect me not to get excited and utterly distracted.”

“What did I say? Stay focused,” she barked back before bringing her eyes back to the Supreme. “If you think immortality is more important than integrity and honour, then maybe you don’t deserve life at all.”

The Queen of the Witches’ temper shattered. “And you think you do? You don’t deserve to rise in any form of power, you’re an imposturous little worm.” Her jaw shook and she clamped it shut. “You don’t deserve the crown of air or of fire, and you absolutely don’t deserve my crown. Just like your demon-loving whore of a mother didn’t deserve it either. That’s why I told your father where she was the night he found her, to make sure he would smite you both.” Her eye twitched.

The most indescribable fury rushed over Emara, shaking every part of who she was. “You told Balan where my mother was?”

She’d thought she could never hate anyone as much as she hated Taymir Solden, but the Supreme…

“Of course I did,” Deleine shouted. Emara flinched. “Even though she wasn’t practising magic for the ascension, her power was still untouchable, unmatched.” Abhorrence engulfed her eyes as her gaze bore through Emara. “It was only a matter of time before she took it all. And I was supposed to be Supreme. Me, not her. She didn’t even want it. That ungrateful bitch didn’t want any of it.” She paused, shaking now too. “I wanted it. I wanted it all, and she was going to take it from me. She was predicted to take every crown I wanted.”