Page 80 of Ascendant King

At his words, there was a throaty cry, a rush of power that filled the room, and suddenly, we were faced with six more mages, each fresh, each with tattoos so thick they crawled up their exposed throats.

“We are House Bartlett! He is no king of ours.” Zaiden laughed, the red slowly drawn back to him, blood flowing downhill.

I had to stop him before his magic returned. With a shift of my muscles, I leapt, darting around one of the remaining council members, landing next to Zaiden and then yanking at his other arm, using it to pull him off-balance before I brought my elbow down, cracking his joint.

He stared, gaping, at his arm. His mouth worked for a moment before he cried out, both arms hanging limply at his sides.

“No!” he shouted, and it was a starter’s pistol at an Olympic event.

The other mages rushed toward Petrona and the shield she had up around Cade and Sonja. They hit it with a resoundingclang, two pieces of metal slamming against each other hard enough to leave ears ringing.

“You’ll pay for that.” Zaiden hissed in pain, but then I heard a disconcerting crack.

I was used to the sound of bone breaking, flesh and muscle tearing, but only during a werewolf’s shift.

Zaiden met my eyes, grinning, and this time, the red that streaked his teeth was blood. In front of my eyes, his broken arm straightened, the joint healing, the damage to the muscles and bone repairing itself.

His magic twisted around his arm until he could lift it, and then long claws extended from his fingers again, and he reached for my throat. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

I leaned back, but not quite fast enough. The very tips of his magic nicked my skin, and I knew I wouldn’t have any time.

I dropped low, underneath his guard, bringing myself up and slamming my hand into his chin, snapping his head back. Then, I ripped at the magic on his newly healed arm, tearing it off, letting it become ash in my hands.

He yelled, but his other arm was healing too, and his face contorted in pain. I could feel his magic crawling up my skin. No time.

Raising my hand, I wrapped Cade’s black magic around my hand, reinforcing the blow before I smashed it against his face.

His eyes went wide, then up, as his body collapsed down. The crack of thunder that preceded Petrona’s magic was weaker, and when I turned, two of the mages had cracked holes in her protection spell.

Sonja was speaking quickly, and Cade was answering her just as fast, his words landing on top of hers as they rushed through the ritual. I sprinted over, picked up one of the mages who had made it through the protection spell, and threw him against thewall. He landed hard against the books, several falling on his head as he slid down.

The other woman turned to me. I recognized her as one of the Jennings daughters.

“What are you doing here? Leon is the one that had your sister killed.” I grabbed her arm as she reached toward me, pulling her off-balance.

“Cade doesn’t deserve the magic he has,” she spat, and violet magic leapt from her skin to mine. I didn’t give it a chance to dig in, ripping it off with my free hand.

She hissed in pain, but more magic flowed up my arm, ants that had discovered a source of food, returning no matter how many times you smashed them.

“He deserves his power.” I leaned in, wrapping a hand around her neck, pulling it back. I could feel her desperate gasping for air against my palm. “You’re the one who’s stealing your power from helpless werewolves who have pledged their service to your house.”

“He only has power because of the atrocity his father committed.” She grabbed my hand, clawing at my fingers, digging in with magic and her nails. But she couldn’t get free.

“What atrocity?” I asked, confused.

She laughed, the sound vibrating against my palm. “His treacherous father is the reason for all of this.”

“And where did you get your information?” I asked with a snarl. “From the man who killed your sister?”

“He is the reason for all of this. His fault—” She went still, her body jerking uncontrollably. Violet magic spilled over my skin, dripping down as though it was a physical thing.

I dropped her automatically, trying to shake it off my hand and wrist. It wouldn’t come off, and when I caught it with my free hand, it came loose as a sticky, honey-like substance.

No, not ahoney-like substance, like the sap that poisoned the ley lines of House Bartlett.

I could feel it flowing underneath our feet, the pulse of it, a heartbeat underneath the soil. Somewhere inside the house, a mouse feasted on forgotten food in the kitchen, the crumbs behind the stove, sniffing until it found half a loaf of Siobhan’s delicious bread still tucked in a bread box.

I came back to noise and chaos. The Jennings daughter was at my feet, her eyes lifeless. Three of the mages had been taken out, but with them had gone the rest of the council.