Page 60 of Scarlet Wars
Emma fucking smiled back. “Lucky for you, I’m fluent in ‘crude.’”
The High Chief’s mouth curled. “Careful, Miss Thompson. There are consequences for disrespecting the United Chiefs.”
“Careful, misterunelected president,” Emma mimicked sweetly, “there are consequences for underestimating me.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Gods, I loved it when she was fearless.
The High Chief’s brows arched in mock surprise. “Well, gentlemen, it seems you haven’t educated Ms. Thompson on how the Chiefs operate.”
He rose to his feet with a calmness that was more threatening than any raised blade could have been, tugging the lapels of his jacket into place. “Seems a little demonstration is necessary.”
Without a warning, he might’ve been too fast for me, but the idiot was cocky, and I was a hell of a lot more powerful than he’d anticipated.
His invisible haze almost slammed into me, a wall of heat and pressure, but my own was already there to meet it, the clash between them sparking across the room in a shudder that rattled the stone walls.
His translation burned against mine, searing my skin, trying to rip through the shield I’d built, but years of drills and cycles of brutal training made my counters flow instinctively. It was almost easy—too easy—my strength cutting into his until I felt the give, the slight tremor that said I was winning.
My attention flicked to Emma. She stood taut in the haze-choked air, strands of her hair whipping around her face, as she looked…amused.
“Very impressive,” she said, her voice dry, the sarcasm landing hard enough to piss off the High Chief.
It should’ve been a warning. A signal to keep my focus.
But like a fool, I let myself get distracted, too wrapped up in the thrill of showing her I could hold my own against him, too hungry for a flicker of approval from the woman I ached for.
That’s when I saw it, too late.
The Corona.
One of the United Chiefs’ inventions, their favorite toy for keeping magi in line. It shimmered into view, dark metal catching the yellow light. A thin circlet edged as a blade, every inch of it designed for blood. Rune-like marks crawled along its surface, glowing faintly as though feeding on my energy, as though hungry for it.
It sliced through the air in a perfect arc, too fast for the eye to follow, and then it found me, biting across my stomach, the edge cutting deep enough to sear like fire.
Pain flared white-hot.
Flesh split open with a wet sound, warm blood spilling down my abdomen in rivulets that soaked instantly into my shirt. My knees threatened to give as the metallic tang hit my tongue, copper and bile thick in the air, and the chamber seemed to shrink as I fought to hold my ground.
James muttered a low curse and Emma’s eyes widened with the kind of fear that told me this wasn’t just a demonstration anymore.
Without hesitation she stepped in front of me, her body a shield, and the Chief’s haze recoiled like smoke pulled back by a sudden wind.
Thank fuck he needed her alive.
“What the hell is your problem?” she yelled, her voice breaking in all the right places, fury barely held together, but I knew her.
Her reaction was no more than a carefully crafted act.
And I was right, because as she stood between us, her left hand slid back, her fingers brushed my side, and I felt the hot rush of her golden energy pouring into me.
It lit me up from the inside, fire giving way to relief, the pain ripped clean out of me in an instant.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to move, not to betray the healing.
The High Chief only shrugged, smug bastard, and luckily oblivious to what she’d done. “Only showing you what it would mean to refuse me.”
He straightened his spine. “Now, let’s get on with it, shall we? Mister Walker is standing right here, and your marriage would be witnessed by the High Chief himself. I’d say that’s an honor few ever receive.”
The words sliced sharper than his Corona. My head snapped up, rage choking the air from my lungs.
