Page 100 of Claim the Light
A faint glow of energy is building around me, the air becoming brighter, pushing at the black mist that wafts around him.
Our two powers are very slowly colliding.
I dare to edge forward, the warmth of my body pushing at the coldness of his. “Your dark energy has the capacity to obliterate everything around it,” I say. “Nearly.”
His eyes narrow sharply. “Nearly?”
Again, he takes my words—a statement of fact this time—as an insult.
“You said it yourself,” I continue quietly. “Life is nothing without death. But for death to exist, first there must be life.”
I take a quick breath, preparing myself for the huge risk I’m about to take.
Then I step in and close the gap between us.
My palm connects with his chest. I brace for my hand to sink into his shadowy body. I’m prepared for the sharp cut of his ash across my skin and the freezing cold of his power that could pull me down into despair.
But the moment my hand meets his chest, warmth bursts through me.
It’s instinctive, and I’m shocked that I don’t have to call it.
Heat bursts beneath my palm and shoots out across his form, transforming his ash in an instant.
My fingers now splay against very human-looking skin, which extends for at least three inches in every direction around my hand.
His eyes fly wide, and he gives a roar that sounds like pain.
Leaping back from me, he lands in a cloud of soot several paces away, crouching in swaths of dark mist as he glances at his chest.
I’m a little dismayed to see that it has returned to ash, but I’m certain I can turn him to flesh again.
I can make him vulnerable.
At the edges of the rooftop, the Scorn have lurched forward, some toward me and some toward Tyler.
His hand shoots out and he snarls at them. “Stay back! I’ll handle this.”
I’m conscious that my family will also be watching—and waiting for my signal to enter the fight.
Not yet.
I made them promise not to join this confrontation unless I was outnumbered. I’m painfully aware of how hard it will be for them to wait. They’re all incredibly strong dragons who have never backed away from a battle. I can practicallyfeelMicah’s rage beating down around me like the shield he wants to be for me.
But I need them to give me space to test my limits, while also providing the assurance that I’m not alone.
I don’t waste another second, storming toward Tyler as I give a cry to my dragon’s gold within my mind.
Come to me!
The golden belt is a blur at the edge of my vision as it rises up and shoots toward me.
Within a heartbeat, it has wrapped around my waist, the pieces unfolding as I continue to move. Plates of armor rise up across my chest and down my thighs, molding to my shape and cinching my dress close to my skin. The helmet wraps across my cheeks and forehead, along with the back of my head, fitting neatly around me without obscuring my vision.
Then the final piece—the dagger that the gold created for me—flies into my right hand.
I’m gratified by the hint of alarm in Tyler’s expression before he covers his reaction. “You think you can fight me, Sophia? You’re fooling yourself. I’ll crush you like the worthless trash you are.”
I don’t deign to respond to his taunt. Micah taught me to stay focused, to see my target and all of their vulnerabilities without the emotional crap that comes with who they are.
