Page 47 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

“I’m not going to ask you to,” Will muttered. “Can you burn the wagon without hurting yourself or us?”

Aidon glanced around the wagon. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Managing my affinity has gotten easier, but…”

“This wouldn’t require a great deal of power,” Liam assured him. Will shook his head.

That wasn’t Aidon’s concern.

“You still struggle to control it when your emotions are high,” Will answered for him. He had the burn scars to prove it. Aidon’s fire had seared his arm just days ago, and it hadn’t been a purposeful attack.

And now, Will had goaded him into a state he wasn’t sure he could trust himself in.

Will loathed the sour taste of remorse.

Aidon gave a terse nod. “And there’s the matter of trusting the Royal Guard to come to our aid,” he added.

Of course Will didn’t trust the Royal Guard. But…he did trust that he knew greed intimately. Hyacinth could tout her devotion all she wanted, but this—arresting them and ordering their return alive—was about more than obeying her gods.

This was about coveting revenge in the name of the Divine.

“Liam’s right,” Will murmured. “They won’t let us die. At least not on purpose.”

“Reassuring,” Aidon grunted, but he lifted his chin and scanned the space again, as if he were mapping every nook and cranny.

“I can start at the front,” he finally said, his jaw set in resolution. “It should catch their attention faster and give us more time in case I…get carried away.”

He motioned to the rear door. “You two will need to stand there and be ready to fight.”

Will rolled his neck, the joints cracking with the movement. “That won’t be a problem.”

“We know,” Liam deadpanned. But Aidon…Aidon was watching Will carefully.

“We’re outnumbered,” he reminded him, as if Will didn’t know. Will opened his mouth to retort, but the firm set of Aidon’s mouth halted him. There was a question woven in the warning.

Is this the risk you want to take?

It was terrifying to not be able to trust his own instincts, to know that Desperation had rendered him rash and unpredictable and uncertain. It choked his air and made his thoughts half-formed, made him miss solutions that were right in front of him.

Is this the risk he wanted to take?

Will closed his eyes for a beat before nodding to the front of the wagon.

“Ready when you are.”

***

Aidon had placed several bad bets over his lifetime. One did not become a notorious card winner without suffering a loss or two. He knew that sometimes, it was worth going after the long shot for the incredible win.

Lighting a wagon on fire while he was still inside it and had dubious control over his affinity, however, gave him serious pause.

It wasn’t his own death that bothered him, necessarily, but the deaths of his friends. Perhaps his unwillingness to kill them would serve as motivation.

He rolled his shoulders as he inhaled deeply through his nose, silently reciting all Liam and Will had taught him thus far about controlling his well of power.

Pull steadily. Sense the depth. Go slow. Start small.

He had managed to melt the iron chains, at least. Their wrists, still shackled as they were, were no longer fastened together.

Another careless oversight on their part.

He braced his feet apart, his core tightening to hold himself steady as he faced the side of the wagon. Will and Liam stood pressed against opposite benches at the rear door, ready to attack the guards as soon as they unlatched the lock outside.

Gods, this was a foolish plan. They had no weapons, no advantage .

Aidon swallowed down his doubt, his jaw set as he called his affinity forward. Flames sparked to life in his palms, gently licking his skin.

“Ready?” Aidon asked with a glance to his friends.

They nodded.

He turned, his hands reaching toward the front wall of the wagon.

But a shout sounded from outside, and Aidon frowned, his hands hovering above the wood. The wagon jerked to a halt, and he just barely caught himself before he slammed into the wall.

“What the hells?” he hissed, his fire vanishing instantly. The shouting continued, the sound of swords clanging joining it. Aidon darted to the side wall and crouched down to squint through the small hole.

He could make out flashes of the Royal Guard darting around the wagon, their weapons bared, but he could not see who attacked.

The shouts grew louder, peppered with the screams of the dying. A bang drew his attention to the back of the wagon. Will threw himself against the locked doors, his shoulder slamming into the wood again and again.

Liam grabbed him and wrenched him back. “We have no idea who’s out there,” the Persi snapped.

“I will not sit here and wait to be killed,” Will snarled.

The wagon shook as a body slammed against it. It was enough to have the three of them still, their gazes fixed on where the noise had sounded.

Quiet descended as quickly as pandemonium had, and for a moment, Aidon could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears. It was interrupted by a sharp howl that set the hairs on the back of his neck standing.

Will ceased his struggle against Liam, his body going utterly still as his breath released a shocked, “What?”

There was a heavy thud and the rattle of iron, as if someone had taken an axe to the lock across the back of the wagon. Aidon did not think as he called his affinity, fire wreathing his palms. The doors swung open, flooding the inside with sunlight.

“Seven hells,” Aidon swore as he took in Dauphine Adair, bloodied axe in hand.

She wasn’t alone.

A wolf of pure white stood at her side.