Page 153 of Commanding Flame and Shield
Alec mumbled something that sounded a lot likethat's what we're trying to avoid.
When Aren rounded on us again, his voice was low and steely. “You get the fuck in, you find them, and you get the fuck out. We fight another day.” Ally’s jerky nod was amputated by a collision with The Commander. Aren crushed her against him in a bear hug, and she buried her face against his shoulder for a beat before peeling away.
Ansel set his hand on my shoulder as Alvara slid her gloves on, already armed to the teeth. She continued rattling ideas through her mind with the rest of them. No decisions. We all followed her from one plan to the next—each crazier and more explosive, not allowing our minds to settle.
“August,” Ansel said in that gravel voice of his. I jerked my eyes from my mate to the warrior. “Now, would be a good time to move.” I gave him a blunt nod of understanding, and took Alvara’s now-gloved, outstretched hand. He inclined his head as he said, “Godspeed, both of you.”
When she jumped, she dropped us directly in the center of Adrastos’ host. Dropped us in the center of a sea of leather and canvas tents, and an enormous fire pit. Right in the place he had taken her himself. Foolish move.
We were surrounded in Renown finishing their breakfasts. They startled back from us as the dust plumed around the impact. One fell over a stool. Another poured coffee down his front. Shouts began—she hadn’t bothered to be quiet or subtle as we landed. Wanted them to know who was coming for them.
When she opened them, Alvara’s eyes glowed a terrifying gold and green, and she snarled a warning growl as the soldiers fell over themselves, stumbling from the shock of our appearance. She lifted her chin.
“Fuck the odds,” she growled.
Then she wholly unleashed herself upon the war camp.
SIXTY-ONE
RETRIBUTION
ALVARA
If Adrastos wanted to make this bargain personal, I would make it personal. I’d spent days burning through the surface of my elements, burrowing down into the depths of my power through my fear, anxiety, and rage. The drowsy camp of Renown, wielding mostly earth on their best day, didn’t stand a chance.
It took only four steady heartbeats to draw up that strength, that power and anger, after my feet hit the dirt in the center of the war camp. My mind had exploded as our boots hit the dirt—searching, shredding, clawing through what little I'd left of the wards, and scanning for any sign of them. There was none. The brothers hadn't returned either.
Flames, white hot, and searing pale blue, burst forward in a colossal wave. A terrible, awe-inspiring wall of fire—even as I wielded it.
Row after row of tents vanished, save for the drifting clouds of ash.
August, back pressing against my own, was only a heartbeat behind, blotting out the watery sunlight with livid thunderclouds. The horizon flashed, and the ground shook under the ensuing clap. No rain came to spare them, only the livid bolts of August’s fury, released on any daring and stupid enough to run towards us, instead of joining the waves of shouting, fleeing men.
Is she here? Are they here?August asked, realizing the advantage we had in a surprise attack. I pressed my mind through the camp again, stretching far and wide. Plenty of concerned confusion at the sound of our arrival, but no mortal minds were present. Each fragment of terrorized consciousness was laced in shadow and death.
No. Not yet. We beat them back.
Anger rumbled in his chest. “Burn it all.”
“My pleasure.” And then I roared, burning further into my strength, through layer after layer of livid outrage. The camp became an inferno.
Realizing the source of the attack, looming figures began racing through the smoke towards us, from all directions. I could see them through August’s eyes, as much as my own. My flames licked and devoured. His lightning struck with lethal precision.
Christ above, Ally.Aren’s voice was nearly a whisper in my mind.
At least twenty-five hundred of them.Ansel’s voice was gravelly and weighted with warning. August bristled behind me.
I’d seen what a blast of my temper would do. Seen it again, and again, on different fields in vision, after vision. I knew its reach precisely. That didn’t stop the sick oil from twisting in my stomach, sliding up the walls of my ribs. Chest heaving, I surveyed the damage.Jesus Christ.
Don’t you dare, baby.August’s command was soft, but my eyes burned anyways. I furrowed my brow, remembering their faces—Freya, James, Sam, and Layla at this motherfucker’s mercy—and why this had to be done.
They brought this on themselves,Aren muttered.
It was easy to say when he wasn’t the one that had incinerated an enormous crater in the center of the camp, leaving no trace, not even bones to prove they’d been here at all. My temper quelled, mind pressing out, searching for Adrastos or Agamemnon, for Sam or James, as their minds would be most familiar. Nothing. My rage began to simmer in my blood.
He won’t be stupid enough to put them where you’ll easily find them. But you can make him pay until he begs forgiveness.Ansel nudged us forward. I gave a nod that he was not here to see. More for myself, if I was being honest. This was war. This was war, and I was a weapon.
Reluctantly, cautiously, energy swirling around us, and wind tearing at the intricate pony my hair was swept into, August and I peeled our backs apart. We stalked a few paces forward towards the approaching shadows.
